#well not new new crush per se

[foolishjellyfish]

NEW CRUSH NEW CRUSH NEW CRUSH NEW CRUSH NEW CRUSH NEW CRUSH THEY BLEW ME A KISS LAST NIGHT AS THEY WERE WALKING OUT THE DOOR AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (4)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan wants to clear things up about the night out and his mystery companion, and the reader gets another surprise in LA. Will the two finally have their first date or will something get in the way once more?

Ewan's publicist Donna has never had any issue with her client before. Always present and accounted for, on time for whatever interview, photoshoot or audition he has booked for the day.

But she hasn't been able to get a hold of him in the past two days, which is worrying her to no end, because he is set to meet with a major casting director in New York some time in the coming week.

Donna may have a clue as to why. It's only been two days as well since the pub incident, when The Sun ran a story speculating on Ewan's lovelife - the exact kind of thing he's always been trying to avoid.

It had taken a life of its own, with fans taking it upon themselves to track down every clue of the girl on the internet. Her instagram. Her relation to the cast - apparently she is a cousin of Luke and Elliott. Even the marketing agency where she works. Louise, a 26-year old graphic designer, admittedly harbours a crush on Ewan, and when she heard that her cousins were hanging out with him at a pub nearby, she almost immediately invited herself and her friends over.

But that's all, according to Ewan. After talking to Luke, memories of the night came rushing back to him.

Stumbling out in the alley to send you that voice message. Rejoining the boys to see that they've got new company. Being introduced to Louise, with Tom joking that he should be careful with the missus. Wouldn't want her - you - to think that he's flirting with anyone else.

Even though that's exactly what happened. Not the flirting, per se. Not from Ewan's side, at least. Louise had been brazen with admiration, barely leaving his side the rest of the night. Asking him a bunch of probing questions he had neither the interest nor the patience to answer.

They had all thought the pub was safe from prying eyes. No one approached them for anything, not even a single look of recognition followed by the question, “Are you that guy from House of the Dragon?” Unfortunately, it only takes one rat for a headline to surface. Ewan Mitchell’s mystery girl has been the talk of the fandom and Donna has been trying hard to quell the rumours. 

Such is the nasty nature of the business, as she knows Ewan has quickly learned.

She dials him again, and to her surprise, the call actually patches through.

Her client's throaty voice is heard on the other line, "Hey, Donna, sorry if I've missed your calls."

"It's alright, it's alright, Ewan," Donna stammers. "Just glad to hear from you. Where are you? I've managed to do some damage control about those rumours and - "

"Oh, I'm in LA. I just landed about an hour ago," Ewan responds casually, not mirroring the stress in Donna's tone. Has he gotten over the fuss so easily?

"LA? You know your meeting is not till next week, right? And it's in New York. It's very, very important that you don't miss it, Ewan."

"And I won't," Ewan affirms, laughing dryly to console his worried publicist. "I just need to see about something over here."

Someone, he thinks. He's got his priorities straight.

"Work-related?" Donna asks, curious.

"Uhhhm," Ewan dithers, but decides against telling her about you. Not just yet. "Just visiting a friend. I'll stay here for a while then fly out to New York, don't worry."

"Okay, just keep in touch, alright? I'll send more details about the meeting soon."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Donna."

"Talk soon, Ewan. Take care of yourself."

Donna feels a huge sense of relief wash over her when the call ends, knowing the whereabouts of one of her biggest clients. But why LA? Perhaps Ewan just needed some time off after the flurry of annoying headlines put out in the UK.

Or maybe he's visiting with a friend? Who is stateside right now? Fabien's filming in Philly. The rest of the boys are still in England. But then...

Her thoughts land on the one thing - the one person - that would make him fly out on such short notice. Without giving thought to anything else, especially after the speculation on his romantic life.

Ewan's never been one to share about personal affairs, not even to his close-knit team, but no matter how reclusive he is, no one can deny the way he looks at you. The way he lights up when you're brought up in conversation. The number of times he had excused himself from their meetings to make a call, standing in the corner with a permanent smile etched on his face.

Oh, Donna knows now just who he is in LA for.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Like inevitable spectres haunting someone of his profession, Ewan noticed the papparazzi snapping away as he arrived in LA.

He told no one he would be coming, so it must be an automatic thing in the city. The photogs are always scurrying in the periphery, ready to catch anyone of note, no matter the degree of fame or notoriety.

If you were keeping up with such news, you would know he is in the city.

But according to your assistant Clara, who was kind enough to inform him of your schedule, you are still finishing up on another day of rehearsals for your upcoming rom-com. Ewan checked in the same hotel as you, planning to seek you out as soon as you arrive back from work.

He hasn't spoken to you since the voicemail, and since those false news broke out. Not that he can blame you - wouldn't anyone be suspicious of a drunken confession made by a guy who was allegedly in the company of another girl?

He hates it, being subject to all of this. This nonsense that is keeping you from him, not even worth any consequence.

But he will deal with the blows. As long as he sets things right with you. As long he gets you in the end.

He settles in his suite, getting ready to meet with you once more. He showers, shaves, tousles his hair. He even checks whether he smells decent after all of that - once, twice, and another time. Being nervous to stand in front of a crowd is one thing; it's a whole other conundrum for him finally see you again.

Maybe the crowds are more manageable, and it baffles him to realise so. He can put on a persona, be the actor, and disappear inside himself as the cameras flash bright enough for him to disassociate.

But not with you. He wants to show you everything that he is, who he truly is, and it scares him. There is no team to help him get ready now. It's all him, just Ewan.

Clad in his trusty black jeans and a comfortable hoodie of the same dark colour, he looks in the mirror one last time after receiving a text from Clara that you've arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago.

He contemplates opening the bottle of bourbon from the minibar and taking a shot of liquid courage - something to help him get his explanation ready. Just so he wouldn't stammer in front of you.

Just so you he can make you see, without any error or trace of doubt, that he meant every word in that voicemail, no matter how embarrassing it might have sounded.

He decides against it, imagining the wrinkling of your nose as you catch a whiff of the alcohol. It's cute when you do it, and he adores it so dearly, but he knows that it isn't the right moment.

He rights himself, rolls his shoulders, and he's out the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Jacob trails you inside your hotel suite, laughing at some shared remark about the scenes you rehearsed for the day.

They were emotionally demanding and even after tossing around ideas for hours, the two of you were unable to achieve a satisfying approach to the scenes.

Which is why he had proposed practicing well into the evening, and you found yourselves heading back to your suite together. He has his own house in LA, but your hotel just happened to be closer to the rehearsal studio.

"Care for a drink?" you asked him.

"Why the hell not?" he immediately assents in that easy, Aussie drawl. "We might need it for this shite."

You laugh in agreement, "Indeed. I've got some canned gin and tonics if that's alright.. or beer... or whiskey... " you trail off as you study the contents of your fridge.

"G and t, please, mate," he settles down on the couch, legs stretching in front of him. "We were so unproductive today. I just could not get that line right."

"Tell me about it." You hand him his drink, and he clinks it with yours with a mumbled cheers. "It was me who can't land the right tone," you say. "I mean, is my character supposed to be confused in that moment? Or angry? Or sad?"

"Or all of 'em." he shrugs. "Tricky, isn't it?"

You hurriedly fetch your script from a table, getting right down to it. "So for the first scene in the third act..."

Moments later, with cans of gin and tonic discarded on the coffee table, you and Jacob sit with legs crossed on the couch facing each other. Scripts in hand, you go through the lines over and over, with only seemingly minor tweaks each time. To an actor though, even just the slightest change of pitch or expression makes all the difference.

"Is that better? I think we almost got it," you say after a read-through.

"Yeah, so much better," he grins, holding his hand up for a high-five. Just as your hands smack in the air, another sound echoes faintly from the door.

"Someone's knocking?" Jacob asks. "You expecting anybody? Room service or anything?"

"No," you shake your head, trying to think of whether your assistant or publicist said anything about dropping by. "Maybe it's just housekeeping?"

"I'll get it," Jacob states, already padding his way to the door.

A beat later, you hear Jacob loudly exclaim, "Ewan, mate! It's good to see you!"

Ewan? A shiver runs up your spine. Craning your neck to get a view of a doorway, you catch sight of him, half-obscured by Jacob's tall frame.

Confused, surprised, and feeling some other emotion you can't pinpoint, you head over to greet him.

"How are you doing?" Jacob greets, shaking Ewan's hand, oblivious to the poorly hidden distaste in his eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ewan finds himself asking Jacob, a bit rudely, just as you ask him the same.

"What are you doing here?" you mirror his question at the exact same time.

"Oh!" Jacob breathes out a laugh, "Well, I'll go first. We were just practicing lines."

"In her room? Isn't it a bit late for rehearsal? I thought you're supposed to be off work." Ewan asks, and it sounds like an accusation. He starts to feel all kinds of uneasy - were the twins right about life imitating art?

You narrow your eyes at him. "We decided to continue running lines after rehearsal. There's a scene we can't get right. It's quite tricky - "

"Just the two of you? Alone, here?" Ewan tilts his head, gesturing towards the room like it's some forbidden place.

Jacob shakes his head, smile steady on his lips. If he's caught on to how Ewan must be feeling, he doesn't let it affect him. He gives you a look, as if to check your reaction, and you give him a reassuring shrug.

Ewan does not overlook this exchange. He clenches his jaw, irate from the assumptions popping up in his mind. Before he forgets his manners, he says, "Excuse me, I just... wasn't expecting... I just wanted to speak to you."

"I didn't even know you were in LA," you say, before moving aside to usher him in. "But I'm glad you are, of course. Come join us - "

He nods, making his way to the seating area, where he spies the discarded cans of alcohol and dog-eared scripts. Maybe he should have taken that bloody shot after all.

He laughs joylessly to himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you guys. I just flew in today, and I must have been exhausted from the flight."

"Hey, no worries, mate," Jacob says. "You know what, I'll be on my way. Give you time to catch up and all." He picks up his own tattered script then gives you a kiss on the cheek, bidding you with a, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, sweetheart."

If looks could kill, and if his dear mother hadn't raised him right, he would have incinerated Jacob in that moment.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Jacob claps him on the shoulder, "Great to see you again, mate. Have a good night, eh?"

Ewan knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with two friends and co-stars spending some time alone to rehearse. Besides, last he heard, you were adamant that you and Jacob are just friends.

So why is he being so irrational? Why does the idea of you spending more time than necessary with Jacob, possibly falling for him, bother him so much?

Ewan realises that this is what jealousy must feel like.

He's had career envy before. Another actor landing a role he vied for. Someone else getting the praise he deserves.

But nothing like this. It's petty and possessive.

He wants you to just be his.

You stand in front of him once more after you walk Jacob out of the suite.

"Hey," you say, smiling weakly.

"Hi, darling."

Both of you want to do more. Say more. Usually you would greet each other with a hug and a kiss on a cheek, his hands lingering on your forearms even after you pull away, but the air is thick with tension.

You look at him with those bright, expecting eyes of yours, and Ewan just wants to cave in and make a sloppy confession. But not after that voicemail, no. He's determined to do this right. Words not slurred, head clear.

"So I got your voicemail," you finally say, smiling coyly. "That was... something."

"Hmm," he can't help but mirror your smile, as always. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I understand," you continue, taking a step closer, "if you were drunk. We all say things when we're off it that we maybe don't mean - "

"But darling, I meant every word," he says, way too quickly.

You laugh, the sound of it erasing whatever apprehension remained in him. "Do you even remember what you said?"

"I do," he counters, moving even closer to you. Another step and he'd be able to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. "At least, some of - no - most of it."

"Oh yeah?" you ask cheekily, aided by the effect of gin. He still has your heart racing, but a part of you now knows that the feeling is mutual. "What did you say again?"

He sees that glint in your eye, and it causes him to smirk. "Why don't I make it simple for you, darling?" He closes the distance, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

"Okay," you swallow, getting lost in his blues.

"I missed you." He kisses your cheek. "I like you. A lot." He kisses the other. "And I, uh, I would like to take you on a date."

His eyes meet yours. His voice is steady, but you notice some nervousness in his gaze. How the tables have turned. You make Ewan Mitchell's heart go awry.

"Please, darling?" he timidly adds, the sentiment so sweet you want to blurt out yes immediately. Before you can, he's already leaned back, an explanation rushing out of his lips, "And... I'm not sure but you must have seen those headlines? They're not true, I swear. We were out drinking and - "

"I know, Ewan." You cut him off with a hand pressed gently on his chest but he keeps going.

" - some other people joined us. One of them being - "

"Luke and Elliott's cousin. I know. Elliott called and told me everything."

"Oh. He called you?" A huge sense of relief washes over him, better than any comfort he might have found in a shot or three of bourbon.

"Mhmm, he called me yesterday. So, you know, you didn't really have to fly out. I was about to call you eventually."

He smiles bashfully, eyes cast down as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Damn it, Elliott, you brilliant lad. He reminds himself to treat Elliott to a pint the next time he sees him.

"I still wanted to see you," Ewan maintains, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you're immediately enveloped by the familiar comfort of his scent. Surprisingly without the staple hint of cigarette smoke, due to his frantic scrubbing after the flight.

"I'm happy you're here," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. "And no offence to Louise or anything, but she needs to learn some boundaries with my - "

Ewan looks down at you fondly, squeezing your arms to prompt your next words, "Yeah, darling? Your what?"

"My - " you attempt to bury your face in his hoodie, but he keeps your gaze with a hand cupping your jaw. So you end up saving yourself with " - my Aemond."

"Hmm," he hums, lips curling, and it's so very Aemond of him it makes you feel warm all over. "Your Aemond.Your Ewan. I'm all yours, love."

The whole thing couldn't have gone any better, all things considered, and Ewan feels content to have gotten over his first brush with the rumour mill. What matters is right in front of him, and you know the truth.

"Are you staying in this hotel? How did you even know I was here?" You take his hand, guiding him over to the couch.

"Clara," is all Ewan says by way of explanation.

"Well, thank you, Clara," you declare. Ewan shuffles closer to you and rests his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your forehead again. The gesture is already becoming instinctive, providing the both of you with a sense of ease.

"Darling?"

"Yeah?" you respond absentmindedly, fingers toying with the soft fabric of his hoodie.

"Is that a yes?"

You exhale deeply. As if it wasn't clear enough already. "What do you think, handsome?"

"I don't know, angel. You tell me," he counters cheekily, his fingers playing with your hair as you playfully glare at him.

"What if I say no, baby?"

"Then I'll have to work hard to change your mind, princess."

"And how would you do that, honey?"

His gaze darkens, and something flashes across his blue eyes as he whispers intensely, "Use your imagination, bunny."

"Ri-right," you bite your lip, then shake your head to snap out of it. "We'll have to draw the line at bunny."

He laughs at your flustered state, pleased by the effect he has on you. "What's wrong with bunny?"

That elicits a groan out of you, but you smile anyway. "I already said yes, Ewan. Quit it with the bunny."

"Alright, beautiful," he relents, making you lean even closer against him.

The haze of gin after a long work day starts to subside and the rush of emotion is coming back to you. You find yourself gazing at Ewan in mild disbelief, in awe that he just confessed that he wants you.

Feeling antsy, you stand and pace around the room. You start tidying things, putting your scattered knick-knacks back in your handbag. If you sit with him any longer, you just might end up hurrying things through and jump his bones already, kiss him the next time he does that hmm.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

"No," he says smoothly. "I just need you." The words make you stop in your tracks. He still sits in the same position, looking at you with that undeniable desire in his eyes.

"Uhhhm," your mouth feels dry all of the sudden. Nothing his tongue past your lips can't fix, your intrusive thoughts barge right in. "So... the... the media rollout's still going on isn't it? Should we check and see?" You take your laptop and plop back down next to him. He doesn't miss a beat and cuddles against you once more, wrapping his arm around your tense frame.

"I think so, darling." The media rollout is how the interviews and promotional material filmed by the cast is being released gradually, on a weekly basis, after each new episode comes out.

A simple search on Youtube confirms it, and the first thing that popped up is the Where is The Lie? video you did for Elle.

It was slated for just Tom, Phia, and Ewan but your Blackwood character became such a fan-favourite that they asked you to join in. Not to mention the frenzy you and Ewan caused online with the initial interviews you did together.

"Shall we watch this?" Ewan offers, solely for the intent of seeing you in the video.

You click on it, and for the next 8 minutes or so, all you can take note of are the signs that had clearly already been there. The fans were on to something when they claimed that you and Ewan are a really good ship.

The video starts with a clip of Phia hitting her head on the overhead lamp when she stands, prompting her to uncontrollably giggle along with you and Tom. Ewan, being the exception, is beside himself with worry, and he appears to instinctively reach for your hand as you sit beside him.

"Huh," Ewan smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Tom is the first to be put on the hot seat, and he slowly recites the three statements he prepared. "Ewan, pay attention," Tom blurts out when he notices that Ewan kept sneaking glances at you. "Sure, I'm locked in," Ewan says right back, as you and Phia share a look.

"What were you looking at?" you ask playfully, poking him in the side. "You seem plenty distracted there."

He snorts at himself in the video, when he ends up smiling as he caught your eye. "It was your fault. You were distracting me."

"I was not!" you exclaim. "I thought you were just being competitive then."

Phia is next to have a go. She tells you of a Wifi repellent necklace, a wrestling career, and saving a squirrel from a drainpipe. "The Wifi thing sounds like something Ewan would have," Tom jokes. "Oh sure," you concur, "except that he'd actually keep it so he can watch films." Ewan smiles at your acute observation.

"I'd also keep it to stalk your Instagram," Ewan mumbles from beside you. "And you know, just stalk you in general."

"I'm sure you do, Mitchell," you respond casually, but your face warms up anyhow.

It's Ewan's turn, and as he sits on the hot seat, you see Tom and Phia casting a look at each other then at the two of you, a secret message shared between them. "I bet she will know the answer right away," Phia says. "Yeah, how do we know the two of you didn't conspire together?" Tom asks. "Are you kidding me, you guys?" you laugh at them, thinking how silly they were being, not knowing then that they were definitely on to something.

"Darling, you have to know this," Ewan tells you specifically as you all try to guess the answer. "Oh, darling!" Tom mouths to Phia, dramatically flipping nonexistent long hair over his shoulder. Phia laughs at his antics, before nudging you and saying, "Which one is it? Which is the lie? I trust you." You respond, "Why me? You two should know this too!"

"Because I wasn't trying to date them, my love," Ewan says, smiling at the screen.

"Oh, come on now." You crane your neck up to press a soft kiss against his cheek before turning your attention back to the video. So you don't notice the switch in Ewan's breathing. The jumps in his heartbeart. The way he subtly clears his throat to deal with his flustered state.

The video comes to a close after your turn and even at the very end, Ewan can be seen admiring you as you give the closing remarks with Phia.

Admiring you, as he does in the moment.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says, when you turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

Some time passes with the two of you catching up, talking about your upcoming projects, his big meeting in New York - all the while his fingers trace patterns on your exposed skin, his arm wrapped around you snugly.

"Have you been keeping up with the show?" he asks.

"The last episode I saw fully was... the second one? I got pretty busy after that. How about you?"

"Oh," he looks down in thought, piquing your curiosity, "so you didn't get to see the third episode yet then?"

"No, not yet," you shake your head, "but I've seen some stuff here and there."

He hums again and he wants to ask, have you seen his stuff? There are around a dozen or so potential jokes at play here. He has an inkling to tell you to watch the episode so you can see just what you're in for. So you can see him and all he has to offer. He'd also fumble through a justification, as he had done in some interview, about the new studio they had filmed in being cold as a fridge freezer.

What to say? What to say? He picks at some lint on his jeans, smirking to himself.

"Yeah," you eventually giggle at his obvious hesitation. "I've only seen some of the episode. But what I've seen... is enough to make me jealous of Madame Sylvie."

He stiffens, throat suddenly dry, but one look at your smile does away with his concerns.

He soon finds himself laughing, a muffled, "Oh, darling," whispered lovingly against your hair.

"That was very brave of you, Ewan," you express sincerely.

"Thank you, love."

"So... just how cold was it in there?"

Your shared, unrestrained laughter echo throughout the room.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Your first date was meant to happen the following night, but such is the nature of the job that Ewan's schedule gets moved up all of a sudden.

Once the bigshot casting director in New York found out that Ewan is already stateside, he requested that the meeting be held at the earliest possible opportunity.

He calls you while you are in rehearsals, profusely apologizing and promising to fly back to LA in the next two days, right after his meeting is all sorted.

"It's okay, Ewan," you reassure him, genuinely understanding. "I will see you when you come back. Good luck, I know you're going to smash it, whatever opportunity this is!"

"Thank you, darling," he says, already wanting to have you back in his arms already, mentally kicking himself for not kissing you when he had about a hundred chances to do so. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond, blushing silly with the phone pressed to your ear. "But it'll only be two days."

"Hmm, doesn't matter. I need to take you on our bloody date, darling. I've already taken so damn long."

"Don't worry," you say, "I've already seen you way more than I should before the first date."

"Wha - " a protest forms on his lips, but he gets your point right away. "Oh. Clever, darling."

"I know."

"But I'm planning to give you something that's just for you. That the whole world won't ever be privy to."

You swallow hard, your very being heating up at his insinuation. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mitchell."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Bonus chapter!

Nocturnal file 🤫

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @luckyfirebasement @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff

The cast's Where is The Lie? video is an actual thing! I hope yous got the reference!

Notice how the two nerve-wrecked shites didn't have their first proper kiss yet??? Will they ever?? 😩😩😩

Taglist is officially closed for this one. Please bookmark this series or the masterlist (or follow my page) to keep up with updates <3

I can't even overstate how mad all the love for this series has been! I'm always looking forward to hearing from you guys - suggestions, comments, complaints are always welcome!

See you in part five! (preview: something will happen in NY that might cause Ewan to question things!)

[nathaslosthershit]

Media Interrogation [Part 2] (LN4)

(Read part 1 here!)

Summary: He had prayed the media would leave his newfound ‘friend’ out of their questions, only focusing on the race. But Lando Norris would soon see he wasn't so lucky.  A/N: I don't know how Twitch works so excuse the poorly explained streaming things.

A little less than two weeks after Lando had met his new neighbor, they had spent any time they could together, and any time they couldn’t they were texting and calling. It was exciting, they weren’t dating per se, still trying to get to know each other before they jumped into anything, but this newfound friendship had been great for both of them. Slowly, Lando had been introducing her to some of his friends, and with all the new faces, she didn’t feel half as lonely as she used to. 

It was wonderful.

He had warned her about the stream, leaving the details of him turning bright red, giggling, and Max admitting that Lando had called her his “cute neighbor” out. But, of course, after she spent far to long going through the #landonorris tag on various social media sites, she had found a clip of the interaction. Seeing how giddy he was about it, even after meeting her for only a minute, made her giddy as well, happy to know that it seems her feelings weren’t one sided.

He had invited her to the race, being as it was at Silverstone, but the thought of going there and meeting new people and being seen by the media so soon after her and Lando just met made her nervous, so she politely declined. 

Although he was a bit upset, he understood her reasoning. 

Before the race, Lando was with Oscar giving various interviews, with mostly race related questions. ‘How was the car feeling?’, ‘you think you guys can give Max a run for his money this weekend?’, etc. It was easy and he wasn’t worried about intrusive questions.

Until they opened it up to the fans.

When they said they’d take fan questions, Lando began to sweat. Beside him, Oscar let out a laugh, knowing what the first question was bound to be.

“Lando, it seems you made friends with you “cute neighbor” while streaming, have you guys talked more?” one of the fans asked.

Shit.

He probably should have warned her this would happen but, maybe it was wishful thinking, he hadn’t expected to be asked about it. And maybe his cute neighbor wasn’t even watching. 

“Uhhh” he said as he let out an awkward laugh, “Yeah, we have talked a bit more. The cookies were really good so I’ve been trying to get the recipe.” Lies, he hadn’t asked for the recipe, he just wanted her to make the cookies for him again.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Another fan yelled out.

There was a beat of silence from Lando, causing fans to laugh at his awkwardness around the situation. Oscar, now feeling bad for his teammate, jumped in.

“He shared some of the cookies with me too. He wasn’t kidding when he said they were really good. Might have to ask her to make me a batch.” Oscar jokes. 

Seeing as he wasn’t going to answer the girlfriend question, which wasn’t even a proper question as the fan just yelled it out instead of waiting to be picked, the interviewer moved on. 

He really hoped she wasn’t watching this.

She was totally watching this and enjoying every second.

It felt nice to see Lando blushing so profusely at the mention of her, which made her feel better for also blushing profusely when he talked about her.

Since she saw the stream, she had noticed he definitely had a bit of a crush on her, but she didn’t know how deep it went. If it was a tiny crush that was bound to fade as they became closer, or if this closeness was going to lead to an even bigger crush. Only a few weeks into their friendship though, and she had already fallen fast and hard.

She couldn’t do anything. She'd never do anything, even though she so badly wanted to. All her new friends were Lando’s, if he wasn’t as serious as she hoped about his feelings, it would crush her. She wouldn’t be able to stay friends with him and in turn would lose all the new friends she had made. 

So she vowed to not make the first move.

Eventually, three months had gone by and the pair only became more inseparable. Instead of planning mini vacations and trips between races, Lando always tried to get home so he could see his favorite neighbor, who he now knew he had massive feelings for.

She had started work and it was going great! Her worries about being alone if she lost Lando went away as she made more non-Norris-acquired friends. 

The two had also graduated to an even deeper level of intimacy. They weren’t sleeping together, or straight up kissing. But holding hands, cuddling, kisses on the cheek or forehead, were all normal for the pair. Sure it seemed so childish to dance around their feelings at their grown age but it's all they could do for now.

Baking had become a new hobby as well. Before moving, she couldn’t really say she was much of a baker, only doing it when it came to birthdays or bake sales. But with Lando becoming increasingly more obsessed with her cookies, she had started to branch out with other flavors, even throwing in muffins or a pie. 

She had just finished a new recipe her mom sent her, which were divine, when she knocked on Lando’s door, flashbacks to the first time they met those few months ago going through her head.

Lando, also like those few months ago, had been streaming when he got a knock on his door. Smiling to himself as he already knew who it would be, which the fans most certainly caught, he quickly excused himself to go open it. When he saw her there, he immediately pulled her into a hug.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbled into her neck.

“You saw me yesterday.” She laughed, happy to know he missed her as much as she did him.

“Can’t blame me for wanting to see my favorite girl all the time.” He replied.

“Favorite girl, huh? It's an honor. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a title.” She teased.

“Your cookies, of course!” He said as he pulled back, when she shot him a look, he continued, “and your wonderful personality, and how great of company you are.”

“That's more like it. Speaking of, I tried a new recipe and, not to toot my own horn, these are the best yet.” She said as she grabbed the container of cookies from her bag.

“Yes! Thank goodness I was beginning to experience withdrawal. I am streaming right now, they are always asking about you since the- anyway, could I do a taste test? You can join me, I think the chat would love it. I would love it. But you don’t have to if-” He began to ramble, clearly feeling awkward at almost admitting just how much she is brought up on his streams.

“No, that sounds great! I definitely join.” She immediately regretted the words the moment they left her mouth but the look on Lando’s face stopped her from taking it back. He has lit up in a way she hadn’t seen and all she wanted to do was forever make him light up that way.

He quickly pulled her to his streaming room, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling her onto the screen. “I’ve returned with cookies, oh and of course a special guest. Guys, please don’t be weird. Be normal or I'll end the stream.” He joked, but also prayed that his fans would for once listen and try not to embarrass him for their own entertainment. He knew they wouldn’t listen though.

Immediately after saying that, someone donated and got their message read out loud,

‘Are you the cute girl that gave him cookies?’

“Uh I don’t know. That depends. How many cute girls give you cookies, Lan?” She teased.

“Oh hundreds, I am constantly drowning in sweet baked goods. My trainer hates me now.” He teased back.

“Then I guess I should take these back, don’t want to make your trainer even more mad.”

“Over my dead body. Seriously, you’d have to pry these out of my cold dead hands. Anyway, this is a taste test of a new recipe, as was explained to me ‘it's the best yet’. You guys can’t eat them obviously so I’ll try to be descriptive.” 

After one bite, Lando started moaning in a way that was uncomfortable for everyone except him. Her face had never felt hotter at the sounds he was making and she was far too scared to check to see if her face was as red as it felt.

Do you hear him make those noises a lot?

“Alright! I told you if you guys made it weird I’d end it, so you lost your privileges. Goodbye everyone, think about what you did.” Lando was kidding, his fans knew it, but it was a pretty crazy question to ask. Not that the chat cared.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting all that.” She said once he turned off the stream.

“I know, I’m sorry they get like that.” He replied, feeling bad that he hadn’t explained well enough what she should expect. 

“No, I thought they would be worse to be honest, I meant the moans you were making from my cookies.” “Oh come on they weren’t that crazy, and the cookie was amazing, I had to.”

“Lando, those noises were nothing short of erotic, I was worried how far you were going to go if you had another bite.” She teased.

They both laughed and after a few seconds, a beat of silence fell over them. As they looked into each other’s eyes, the energy in the room shifted. Finally, Lando spoke up.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

“Please,” She replied.

Explosions, fireworks, sparks, whatever you want to call it, they felt it. It was so cheesy but it was so electric, they couldn’t help but feel like they did in the movies.

After a much needed breather, before going in for more, Lando asked, “Let me take you out, properly, please? Like an actual date.”

“Only if it's not a seafood place, I’m allergic to fish.” 

“Good God, I’m gonna fall in love with you.”

[forzalando]

hi! can you do "kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose." + charles please please please 🙏 tysm <3

hi hi hi! i hope you like it😊💛 thank you so much for your request, i had so much fun writing this one!!! charles + kisses on the tip of the nose 631 words, no tw!

Adopting Leo was the most wonderful decision that you and Charles had ever made – he was the sweetest puppy, even if he could be a menace at times, and had so much love in his tiny little body for the two of you.

He was exceptionally clingy, especially with you since he spent more time with you, which prompted Charles to overcompensate a bit for his absence.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of your dog, per se, but as you sat on the couch and watched Charles give his undivided attention to Leo while completely ignoring your existence, you felt a bit slighted.

His puppy voice and the sound of him leaving kisses all over Leo’s face, particularly his adorable nose, had your frown growing deeper. You’d never been great at controlling your facial expressions but Charles had yet to notice until you sighed involuntary.

“Mon amour, what’s wrong?” Charles asked sweetly, cradling Leo delicately to his chest in order to move closer to you.

“Nothing,” you pouted, stealing Leo from his arms to hopefully quell the loneliness in your chest.

“It’s not nothing, you are sad. Talk to me, my love.”

“I just – gosh, it’s so stupid.”

“Your feelings are not stupid, I promise. Did something happen while I was away? If someone hurt you I will – ”

“No, Charles,” you interrupted, debating the best way to tell him. “I…I know you miss Leo a lot and you feel guilty because you’re away so often but you’ve been home for four hours and after a quick ‘hello, I love you, I missed you”, you haven’t paid attention to me at all. I’m just feeling a little left out.”

It was silent for a moment except for Leo’s soft pants and the sound of him licking your chin – you couldn’t help but smile at the affection from him, the affection you were craving from your partner as well.

“Mon amour,” Charles cooed. “Are you jealous of little Leo?”

“I’m not jealous, but you’ve kissed him 81 times and I’m feeling neglected.”

Charles smiled softly at you, “I’m sorry, Leo is new to me being gone so often, I’ve been so wrapped up in making sure he knows I love him that I forgot for a moment it never gets any easier for you.”

“I understand, Charlie, it’s ok. I’ve just missed you a lot,” you whispered shyly. He moved even closer to you, cupping your face with his hands, leaning in. You closed your eyes and waited patiently, eager to lose yourself in Charles.

Your eyes flew open in shock when you felt his lips upon the tip of your nose repeatedly – over and over again while Charles giggled and pressed himself as close as he could without crushing your fur child.

“Charles!” you squealed, laughing along with him as his kisses moved to your cheek, chin, and right back to your nose.

“You said you were jealous of Leo’s nose kisses!”

“I said kisses in general,” you gasped between laughs. “And it looks and sounds like I’m not the only jealous one in this family.”

Leo was yapping away in your arms – his little paws trying and failing to push Charles away while he snuggled closer to you. “Leo, let me love on your Mama, no?” Charles lightly scolded, ruffling the fur on his head. As if Leo understood, he huffed out a sigh and relaxed in your arms, quickly falling asleep.

Charles leaned back against the edge of the couch and beckoned you to sit between his legs, cocooning his arms around you as you leaned back into him.

Your head nestled in the crook of his neck and Leo snoring softly in your arms – you wouldn’t trade your perfect, little family for anything in the world.

if you'd like to request a short drabble/blurb, please see this post!!

[jellipuff]

Pretty.

Pairing: Sub!Mingyu x reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut (18+, Minors dni!).

Wordcount: 4.2k

Summary: His interest in you was shocking. Star player Mingyu crushing on you? Who knew two years later that calling him pretty was all that was needed for him to fall deeper and who knew for him to get his way all he had to be was pretty? Short answer: you both knew.

Warnings: sub!mingyu!!, established relationship, football player mingyu, idk if this is gn!reader but i don’t think i mention anything too gender-related, Slight pwp, this is literally just reader fingerfucking Gyu with a side of fluff, anal play (m receiving), he's so spoiled, and a lil slutty, reader records them, slight exhibitionism(no one walks in but there are people in the house while they do this), mingyu just can't be quiet no matter how much he tries to say he can :(, reader teases gyu bc he’s cute, he just wants to be called pretty 24/7. (i think that's it?)

A/n: this is my first time writing in forever & my first time writing for svt. I can barely find any sub!svt fics especially mingyu so I thought let me write em myself 🙄. I hope its okay though LOL. also if you don't like it, don't read‼️ No need to burn me at the stake friend. Feedback is appreciated :)

You and Mingyu have been together since sophomore year. You both go to the same college and shared a few classes that year. Classes that weren't too important but important enough for it to affect your grade, school is just like that.

You heard about him in freshman year. He was admired by those around him for his athleticism in football. Quickly becoming one of the best players resulting in him being liked by not only his team but others as well. You didn't really know him then though, not caring to honestly. He was a wonderful football player, the crowd around him either being the same or being interested in it. 

Oh, and interested in him.  

Mingyu is a stunner, his looks giving him many opportunities in more ways than one. You would hear about how good in bed he was from people talking a bit too loudly in a library. When you’d go to parties with your friends you'd also see how people would try to get his attention. You’d watch as women threw themselves at him in hopes of being the one he takes to bed that night.

So you could see how you were surprised when he seemed to show interest in you.

You're not knocking yourself, you're beautiful and your personality shines just as much. It's just you and mingyu don't seem to have any compatibility if the things you know about him are anything to go by. “He manhandled me so well”, “Our first date was to see the new Fast & Furious.”, “He's so handsome.”

Sure none of those things are bad per se. You just know yourself well enough to know that when you think about mingyu just a little longer than you should that you want to manhandle him.

That if you were to go on a first date you'd want to take him to a cat cafe just to see how this puppy of a man would interact with them. That when you look at mingyu you know he is handsome but you can only seem to think he’s so pretty. 

When you got paired together in two of your classes for a project you didn't know if you were fine with it or not. You don't know his work ethic or how his grades are, he shows up to class every day but does he actually care about his grades?

Though as he smiled brightly on his way over to you when your names were called together for the second time that day, you didn't seem to care too much about any of those things.

“Seems like fate huh?” he says with a grin as he sits by you. “What does?” you ask while pulling up a blank PowerPoint. “Us being a couple.” he says flirtatiously and you can't help but give him a look. “You mean us being project partners.” you reprimand but he waves you off.

“Same thing as what I said, either way, it happened twice. So that means it's fate.” he says taking your pink glitter pen to write both your names on the paper you were given. You watch as he draws a little smiling puppy and then a grumpy cat side by side underneath. He turns to you with a pretty smile, pleased at his artwork.

“Look it's us! You’re the grumpy cat.” he giggles and you think if he weren't so cute you'd tell him to find a different partner. Yet you don't tell him that nor do you tell him that this professor only allows blue or black ink.

You think that's the first time you realized maybe you got mingyu all wrong. Maybe he isn't just a jock who watches Fast and Furious and is strong in bed. You also realize this another time. 

You and mingyu were doing your meet-up at his place. When he told you he has roommates you almost wanted to cancel on him. An apartment lived in by men sadly only filled your mind with overthinking.

What if it stunk? What if his room was messy? What if his roommates were creepy? You'd like to think mingyu wouldn't let them be weird toward you and that sedates your worries slightly. 

As you walk into his place though you’re met with the smell of food cooking and shouting in the living room. Walking in further you see a game of Mario Kart being played and the smell is from the spaghetti being cooked by a man who smiles when he sees Mingyu. 

The atmosphere was nice, leaving you to relax a bit from before. Mingyu introduced you to them all, telling them you're going into his room to work on a project not to fuck as his friend Seungkwan had joked. The way mingyu seemed to be flustered at his friend's joke is what leaves you amused.

The thought of him getting shy at being accused of something he is apparently good at and known for is cute. You learn the man cooking is Joshua, and you compliment him on the smell. He laughs; thanking you before saying “For once Mingyu’s crush has good taste.” he teases and Mingyu freezes. 

He looks at you with wide eyes cheeks flushing at Joshua's slip of the tongue. “He’s just joking like he jokes like that a lot you know.” he hurries to say and you feel amused. “Uh huh.” you reply and Mingyu feels the need to make you believe he does not like you because what if you find that weird? You haven't shown interest in him at all.

“Yeah, he's dumb you know cause like I could never have a crush on you so what is he even saying?” he finishes with an awkward laugh. He doesn't see the way your smile falls and the way Joshua watches the whole thing unfold in horror. Feeling the need to check if his tall friend hit his head somewhere.

When mingyu does look back at you though he's met with a look he can't read but one that makes him feel like he wants to sink into the floor. “Let's just get this over with okay?” you say coldly and he feels like crying.

Sure he can handle heavy tackles, can handle sometimes getting bad grades, and can handle everyone thinking of him in ways that he isn’t. Right here and right now though? Mingyu realizes he can't handle feeling anything from you that isn't your usual warm sarcasm or soft smile. He realizes that seeing you dismiss him so seriously hurts him, it makes him small in a bad way. 

So when you both get to his room and work in silence he thinks he'd rather die from embarrassment at the confession he's going to give than die from the pain of having you not glance his way once in the past hour. 

“Um..you know I didn't mean that.” You don't look up when you hum in confusion instead focusing on the information you’re typing. “When I said that I could never have a crush on you I…I didn’t mean that because I do…have a crush on you.” he admits shyly but he doesn't look away. Needing you to understand that what he said earlier couldn't be further from true. 

For what seems like forever you finally look at him and just your gaze makes his stomach feel funny. You stare at him, watching him try his hardest to not look away. Seeing his hands fidget from you observing him silently.

You think that right now mingyu looks the prettiest he ever has. His eyes not leaving yours to show his sincerity, blush covering from his ears to his cheeks, and knees to his chest. Leaving his feelings on the table must be scary for him. You know how mingyu feels about this.

He’s told you a few times how people always think they know what he likes, how he feels, and what he thinks. So he never says them, and never is honest with those who aren't close to him. Knowing that with others it's more like they set up what he should like, feel, and think. 

Mingyu watches you smile, the warmest one he’s seen from you. Just that alone has him feeling better and then you shock him. “You're so pretty Gyu.” you say with so much admiration he short circuits.

Pretty? You think he's pretty? He's handsome he knows that everyone always tells him that but.. Pretty? Mingyu has never been associated with that and he feels fuzzy at it.

“Pretty?” he questions aloud and you hum with no hesitation “So pretty.” you repeat and mingyu suddenly feels shy, feeling the need to giggle. “You like being called pretty?” you ask endeared and he nods scooting closer to you. “Yeah, I like it.”

─﹒☆﹒─

However, dating mingyu for two years has left you being pleasantly surprised constantly. So when you figure out your boyfriend wants you to take him here with people around, you think for what feels like the millionth time that you’re surprised again.

You hear the laughter and bickering outside of the room. The only thing blocking you from all of the noise is the bedroom door or should you say that the door is the only thing blocking them from you.

Your attention is only focused on the boy who has your shirt fisted tightly as he brings you down to kiss him deeper. You feel him trying to bring his groin closer to your thigh but failing because you keep it too far. He whines again after another failed attempt at feeling something against him. 

You pull back from the kiss with a grin, adoration all you feel for the pretty boy beneath you. “No, want more kisses.” he mewls, trying to pull you back down but you don't budge. “But kisses weren't part of the deal, baby.” You remind him and he looks away annoyed at the agreement he agreed to. 

Here on a trip with your boyfriends teammates, friends and some of their partners was a joy. Loving being able to go with him somewhere different even if it's not too far from home. It's the fun that comes from enjoying time with him and being able to see him be complimented by his team.

His efforts and talent being highlighted always leave him with high cheeks that glow from smiling too hard. They all are happy right now. Winning games back to back with a few struggles they overcame felt like a blessing.

Just like having Mingyu underneath you with his cock leaking from just a few kisses is a blessing.

Having to split up into two Airbnbs leaves you and Mingyu with others in the house. Mingyu knew that yet he kept trying to gain your attention. He knew he already had it but he wanted your attention in another way. 

You first caught onto his little game when he wore a pair of shorts that he knew you loved on him. The way they hug his hips and leave little to imagine at his thighs never fails to make you want to take him right there.

The thing is though Mingyu only wears those in your apartment. He never wears them anywhere else so there would be no need for him to pack them. 

When he noticed you staring at him while he looked through the dresser for something he smiled at you before quickly changing. Saying ‘Oh must have accidentally packed these.” While laughing. Yet the throbbing in your core wasn't funny at all.

“Don't be annoyed baby, you were the one to agree, no?” You ask; sliding his underwear down his legs. “Yeah, but I didn't think you’d be this mean.” You smile, enjoying his sulking.

“Mean? Weren't you the one stringing me along all day baby? Until you finally caved in from your own game. Dragging me to the bathroom just begging for me to play with you. And what did I say?” you question watching his ears flush. 

“You..you said only if you get to do what you want.” he replies, causing you to smile. “Mhmm and you said I could do anything I wanted, touch you wherever I would like. Do you remember where I said I wanted to touch you?” you ask and he goes quiet, feeling shy. 

He doesn’t answer, head still turned away from you. That just won't do, will it? 

You grab his chin, turning his face so he can look at you. “Where did I say I wanted to touch Mingyu?” you repeat harsher. Needing to hear him say it out loud. His eyes stay locked on yours before he says “My butt.” he says quietly and you hum, feeling turned on by how he seems so bashful despite this not being abnormal for you both. 

“Good boy. You dragged me to the bathroom just to be told I want to see you spread open for me. You wanna know why?” he nods, wanting to hear you tell him. Yet he feels so needy he beats you to it. “Cause it's pretty, you said I'm prettiest when I take you well.” he answers for you. 

You pat his cheek before moving down the bed. “That's right baby, so pretty when you're full of me. So pretty when you take anything I give you.”

You wish mingyu would have packed your strap, would have thought to bring at least a dildo in his lust-hazed mind but he didn't. So you'll just have to finger fuck him until you feel satisfied.

You grab the lube that Mingyu didn't forget to pack while leaning down to kiss him. “Color?” you ask and he smiles. “Green, just wish I could take something bigger” he pouts and you laugh softly at the confession. “Then you wouldn't be able to be quiet, so be thankful.” his brows furrow in offense. “I'm not that loud, I can be quiet.” he defends. “Well guess you better prove that now then huh?”

You take his hand in yours before kissing the back of it. You guide his hand underneath his right knee, leaning over to do the same with the left. Tapping his thigh to signal for him to pull them back and hold them closer to himself. He understands quickly, leaving him bare to the cold air and bare to you.

You rub your middle finger on his rim lightly causing him to sigh. Moving to open the lube you apply some to his hole and your fingers. “I'm going to put one in okay baby?” you alert him and he shakes his head. “Two.” you look up at him in disbelief.

“No, I need to prep you, don’t be greedy.” You tell him causing him to whine. “Two! I need something bigger. I can take it, I always take it well.” “Mingyu–” you try to chide. 

“Please love, haven't been full in so long. Need to feel you stretch me, miss it.” he bats his lashes, already knowing he has you where he wants you. All he has to do is say a few sweet words, be pretty, and you’d do anything he requests.

“Just tell me if it hurts okay?” you sigh and he smiles, feeling spoiled. 

You go back to rubbing his hole a few times before stopping. He looks to see why but you don't meet his gaze. Lust clouding your vision. You need to record him, need to make sure you get a  video of him like this. “Gotta film you baby, gotta save it. Is that okay?” you question and he nods.

Loving the feeling of you thinking he’s lovely enough to photograph, lovely enough to be recorded for you to look back on.

You grab your phone from the nightstand before kneeling back on the bed. You open the camera before pressing record. Wasting no time, you slowly inch your two fingers into his hole, watching the way it grips your fingers tightly. You hear Mingyu moan softly, the feeling of you inside him too little but too much at the same time.

“It's pretty?” he asks sweetly and you groan quietly. His warmth surrounds your fingers making your brain feel like it's surrounding you. Making you feel like it's you filling him up, not your fingers, and god how you wish it was.

“Yes baby, it's pretty. All of you is so pretty.” he smiles pulling his legs higher. You point the camera from where your fingers move inside of him up onto his torso and face. Moving faster when you see him look up into the camera.

“Look at you, legs spread wide all for me. What do you think the others would think if they walked in here and saw you like this? Big boy Mingyu, the best player on the team getting his ass played with. Do you think they'd close the door? Or do you think they’d see just how pretty you are?” 

His cock jumps at the thought of everyone thinking he's pretty. He only needs to be pretty for you but the thought of them saying it to him makes him groan. At the thought of his teammates, his eyes leave the camera to look at the door, eyeing the knob hoping it's locked only to see it's not. 

“Oh no, you forgot to lock the door baby? It's almost like you want them to come in.” you accuse and he shakes his head. Hips starting to rock down to meet where your fingers move just a little faster, still much too slow for him. It leaves him wanting, leaves him jumping at every slide he does get to feel of your fingers on his prostate.

He knows you're missing it on purpose. He knows that you’re only hitting it when you want to and that makes him needier. Makes him have to guess which stroke is going to have to make him bite his lip to quiet his sounds.

You lean back pointing the camera to be focused on his hole as you take your fingers out. He whines at the loss, his hole feeling too empty. His cock lays hard against his stomach, tip flushing pretty against his tan skin. You slide three fingers back into him, the third adding a stretch that mingyu craved.

The stinging is so pleasurable it has him moaning your name. You and your touch are the only thing plaguing his mind. 

“You gotta be quiet baby remember? I haven't even touched your dick yet and you're being loud. It's like you want everyone to hear you. Like you want them to walk in and watch.” 

He shakes his head quickly even though his cock jumps at the idea. “No!” he whines. You shake your head in faux disappointment. Lifting the camera to his face, his glossy eyes finding it quickly. “Baby told me he’d be quiet and I believed him. Yet he’s such a slut for his ass being stuffed that he can't shut up.” you chastise.

“I c..can be quiet.” he stutters lowly. “Yeah?” you ask and he nods, going to respond yet cut off by you finding the spot that has his back arching off the bed.

You don't relent your movements only seeming to increase. He can't help but cry out, the sounds leaving him bounce off the walls causing you to feel aflame

“Fuck, baby. You look so pretty.” you groan. He doesn’t answer instead putting his hand over his mouth as you abuse his prostate nonstop, his thighs shaking yet never faltering from their position. “Grab your cock Gyu, don't you think it'd feel good baby?” You order him and he looks up at you nervously.

If he takes his hand off his mouth he doesn't think he’d be able to be silent especially if he jerks himself off while you finger him.

Though that's what you want. 

You want to see him cum, want to see his jaw slack and cock twitch when he makes a mess of himself. To hear him cry your name out because that's all that pops into his pretty little head. He removes his hand from his mouth slowly, bringing it down to hold his cock: unmoving. “Go on baby.” his eyes flicker from the camera to his cock before pumping it slowly.

The feeling makes him sigh. Your fingers slow down so as to not overwhelm him. “Feel good?” you question and he looks back to you. Pink lips shining and eyes glossy. “Yeah..” he trails off quietly. You smile, your panties left wet from this. 

His effort, his beauty, his warmth, all of it makes you go crazy.

You pick up your pace again. Fingers fucking against his prostate unrelenting causing pleasure to overtake him so fast he almost forgets how to stroke his cock. You smile as his hand stutters and his eyes roll back. You look at the camera seeing the way his sweat makes his skin shine.

“What's wrong Gyu? Why’d you stop?” you question, voice laced with faux confusion. He looks up into the camera. His face is so pretty you think you could cum just from seeing him like this. 

Even though he's not necessarily staring at you it feels like he only sees you, the phone not even in his vision. 

“Can’t Y/n, can't.” he cries out. His lip quivering, he feels so good, loves you so much. He needs your help. Only you know how to ruin him so good, touch him in a way he never can. “Need my help baby?” You inquire and he nods.

His brain is too fuzzy, all he wants is for you to make him cum. Wants to feel your touch everywhere. You grab his cock tightly before pumping him quickly. “Yes, yes..“ he moans out. Hands pulling his thighs closer, hoping maybe it'll let him feel you more.

Suddenly the noise from in the house gets louder, cheering for something unknown being heard. “What do you think they'd say if they knew they were in our video baby? Knew that their voices could be heard while I film me fingerfucking you?” you question before squeezing him tighter. Strokes gliding easily from how messy he already is. 

“Ahhh, good s’good!” he moans. Not caring about how his voice is getting louder and how the house is suddenly getting quieter.

“Y/n…y/n!” he cries hips moving up and down. Trying to pull more pleasure from wherever he can get it. “Close baby?” you ask lowly.

“Mmm! feels good, feels so good. Wish it was deeper.” he whimpers out. “I’ll just have to keep you stretched till we go home tomorrow then huh? Then I’ll fuck you deep baby, make you feel me here.” You press your palm on his stomach and the action sends him over the edge.

His stomach tenses and his eyes open to find yours once more. He needs to see you while he cums, to see how you look down at where his cum lands on his stomach while some drips down your hand. 

Your name falls from his lips in a sob, letting the whole house know who makes him feel like this. Letting them know who makes star football player Mingyu sound like this. 

You take your fingers out of his hole he whines at the slide of them. Pointing the camera to where his hole is now empty. Watching as he clenches around nothing as if to entice you back in. You moan at the sight, such a pretty hole on your pretty boy. You turn the camera off, throwing your phone to the side. 

“Was I pretty?” he asks when you lean over him to kiss his neck. “The prettiest.” you admit truthfully. He giggles, loving how you see him. 

“Want more kisses now.” he pleads and you smile moving to look down at him “You weren't quiet.” you jokingly remind him. Mingyu whines, feeling frustrated from his lack of kisses. “Don't care. You like it when everyone knows how much of a mess you make me. So shh and give me my kisses.” he vocalizes pulling you closer to him.

You laugh and kiss him lovingly. His lips are always soft and inviting as you press yours to his. Neither of you moves back until your lungs beg for air.

He leans up for one more peck before laying back against the pillows with a pretty grin. “So what I’m hearing is you weren't even trying to be quiet.” you tease; standing up and helping him lean against the headboard. You help him put his clothes on so you can head to the shower. Sure the bathroom is right across the hall but you don't want to risk the chance of someone seeing Mingyu walking; ass out. 

“I was trying.” he replies causing you to roll your eyes. “Sure gyu.” You don't even have to look at him to see his leg bounce. “I was!” you only laugh at his insistence.

“Whatever just be quiet from here to the bathroom, then maybe I’ll give you more kisses.” You open the door and look over your shoulder to see him close behind, mouth shut. You giggle at his cuteness.

He knows it's an empty threat, He’s just too pretty that you'd give him anything no matter what he does. 

You both know that.

[ryescapades]

love your new theme! im gonna be brave and request for a kaiser drabble. something like brother's best friend trope with him. all fluffy and cosy!

a secret third thing, maybe.

characters: michael kaiser (blue lock) x ness's sibling gn!reader genre/warning: fluff, slight manga spoilers, intended lowercase, not sure if i characterize them correctly here so might be ooc (i'm still reevaluating per se lmao), not proofread we die like real men rrahh a/n: didn't mean for it to get this long but i hope it is to your liking T.T i'm trying my best to get out of my writing slump so this is actually a good practice for me and thank you for requesting! <3

"you're late."

ness, only just arriving at the cafe a few seconds ago, pouts at your narrowed eyes. "i know, i know, sorry. but in my defense, i've never been to this town so it took a while to get here."

you sigh once again. "well, now that you're finally here, we should order something. i'm starving," you say, about to fully step out of your booth when a voice has you halting in your steps, making you nearly stumble from your foot catching against the leg of the table.

"ness, there you are." rich, velvety and familiar. too familiar.

ignoring the skip in your heart beat, you turn towards the owner of the voice, your eyes clashing with a pair of blues lined with vivid red.

"oh, isn't this such a nice surprise? ness didn't mention anything about meeting any of his dear family member." kaiser drawls, a smirk growing on his face.

the slight jab has both you and your brother scrunching your eyebrows. of course, kaiser knows about how in your family, you're the closest to ness. you never disparaged your brother just because he decided to pursue a different career path from everyone else. whatever he does, he's still your beloved brother.

you sharply swivel to the redhead, "why is he here?" you hiss. ness only blinks a few times before giving you a toothy grin. "why not? the more the merrier, right?" he chirps, apparently fine as he brushes off kaiser's earlier comment.

the aforementioned man only grins wider. "now, now. what's so wrong with me being here, hm?" he says, a knowing glint in his eyes as he makes eye contact with you.

and of course, he knows about your silly little crush on him too.

he's not dumb, after all. every time the two of you were in each other's presence, you just seem like you can't get it together; red cheeks, ears flushed and voice slightly trembling. it doesn't help that kaiser even uses those to his advantage by teasing you every chance he gets. not to mention his time away at that blue lock project never ceases your admiration for him any less. if anything, it just grows and you don't even know why and how.

"i-i didn't say—!" you sputter, looking away as heat crawls up your neck at his gaze. ness, seemingly oblivious to the dynamic between you and his teammate (or maybe he just doesn't care. you never know when it comes to your brother), adds in, "hey, how about i go order for us? i'll get all the tasty stuff, i promise!" he exclaims before running off to the counter.

you only stare at your brother's back with a faltering reaction, looking like a deer caught in headlights as you're now left alone with your... uh- crush...

kaiser whistles slightly as he takes a seat in front of you. "and there he goes. good ol' ness, huh?" he muses. you only hum as a response, now awkwardly drumming your fingers on the table.

"so... how have you been doing?" he starts, placing an elbow on the table with a cheek resting on his fist as the longer strands of blue hair flows down his shoulder smoothly.

you try hard not to stare.

taking a second too long to reply, you don't even look at him in the eye. not like you can, anyway. not without embarrassing yourself any further. "um, doing fine. i guess."

the next few seconds after that are filled with silence. perhaps there's even a crow flying by.

and then kaiser laughs— wait, why is he laughing? what's so funny about this? you're just here sitting and (barely) talking to your crush and he's laughing?!

"are you still shy, y/n? i'm pretty sure we've met plenty of times before. certainly by now you've gotten used to talking to me already." he remarks, a teasing lilt accentuating his tone.

trying to fight off the urge to fidget with yourself, you huff, "i'm not." the athlete in front of you raises a perfectly shaped brow. "you're not what? not shy or not used to talking to me?"

at that, your face frowns as you realize that once again, you're barely making any coherent replies so you let out a frustrated groan with your face hidden in your hands, "ugh, cut me some slack. you know why i'm like this." at this point you don't bother feeling embarrassed about your infatuation anymore. you’re way past being secretive.

this time though, kaiser is the one that takes a second too long to answer. and when he does, it's a low murmur of, "have i ever told you how adorable you are, mein liebling?"

he has. many times. over and over.

oh sweet lord. you could only pray you've got the mental (and cardiac) capacity to survive the whole day.

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[rainydayathogwarts]

Hey I’m the anon that asked about the JJ fic. I’m so sorry i definitely should’ve checked who you wrote for. If it’s ok could you please do the same prompt but with Emily instead? Thank you so much and sorry again

Hey! It's absolutely no worries, there's nothing to apologise for! Your request just reminded me that I had made a list of characters I wrote for but when I went to look for it, I couldn't even find it, so how was I supposed to expect other people to? Anyway, I hope you like the fic!

summary: tatted!reader is new to the team and she talks back to Emily so one day after work Emily corners her and teaches her a lesson about respect. warnings: public sex (parking lot), bratty!reader (i think), fingering, dom!emily (who's also kind of a bitch:)) 1.4k+ wc

When Emily first joined the team, it had taken people time to warm up to her, so she knew the importance of showing kindness and respect to new members of the team. However, when she'd seen you walk through the bullpen doors for the first time, she knew she'd have a problem with you on the team. Not for any personal reasons per se, but rather due to the effect you had on her. Clearly a few years younger than the others on the team, you walked confidently, wearing an all black outfit; trousers and a top with elbow-length sleeves that put no effort in covering the tattoos snaking down your arms. Emily briefly wondered where else you had tattoos that she couldn't see.

"Well that's no good." Had muttered Derek, trying to hide his smirk while looking up at Emily's reaction to you walking in. It didn't take a profiler to figure out she was attracted to you, and unfortunately for her, you were able to read all her signs. Over the first month of you working at the bau, you had pieced together why she could barely hold eye contact with you, avoiding speaking to you altogether until her behaviour completely changed and she started acting bossy towards you, holding eye contact for perhaps a little too long, trying to intimidate you. She was unsuccessful. Even though you didn't mind that she liked you, sharing knowing glances with Derek, who you had quickly grown close to, you didn't appreciate being treated any less nicely than your other teammates due to a little crush.

One day, on a local case in Quantico, you and Emily had been put in charge of getting lunch by the big bossman Hotch, a list of everyone's order written on your phone. "Hey, y/n," Emily started, at the end of a very awkward drive. You hummed, turning your head to face her. "I'm just saying this out of care for you, coworker to coworker. I don't think your tattoos being on display is professional for work. Strauss wouldn't appreciate them." You tried not to let your annoyance show on your face, instead shooting her a smile and saying "Well I'm sure Strauss would appreciate the fact that they don't get in the way of my work, wouldn't she?"

It was obvious to the rest of the team when you returned that tensions between you and Emily were high. Emily tossed the takeaway bags on the table with an irritated sigh, her jaw clenched tightly. You sat on your chair around the circular table in the conference room, tugging your sleeves higher up your arm. "Hey guys," You started smugly "do you think Strauss would have a problem with my tattoos?" You got a mix of responses, starting with JJ's "Well, she hired you so..." And Derek's straightforward "No she shouldn't." while Spencer only stared in confusion, glancing between you and Emily. "Yeah, I didn't think so." You stated, looking straight up across the table where Emily sat, opening her container of food.

That night, you and Emily had been the last to leave, frantically finishing up your reports. It was a silent race, an unspoken battle. You slammed your last file close in victory, running up to Hotch's office to hand it in before packing up your things, hoping to get to the elevator before Emily magically finished her reports too. Fetching your keys out of your bag when the elevator doors opened, you clicked the button to unlock your car, jogging to pull the door open and dropping your bag on the driver's seat when a shout of your name had you shutting the door frustratedly, spinning on your heels. "Oh shit." You mumbled, watching the taller woman storm over to you. You could just get in your car and drive away before she got to you, but... you were intrigued.

You stumbled backwards when she kept on charging your way despite how close she already was to you, your back hitting the cold steel of your car. The woman stood chest to chest with you, a hand coming to rest on your car right next to your head, dropping the bag she carried on the floor next to your feet. "What, so you think it's funny to just call me out like that in front of all my coworkers?" She seethed, her face only inches away from yours. Your breath shook when you replied "Well I wanted to hear their insight on what Strauss would think of my tattoos before I did anything about it." Gasping at the hand grabbing your waist, you couldn't help but glancing down at Emily's lips, licking your own in the heat of the moment

Emily's breath hit your face when she chuckled and you swallowed, thighs clenching slightly. "It's so fucking obvious that you want me." She scoffed, hand on your waist lowering to grip your hip. "Says you. Couldn't make eye contact with me for a month." You squealed when her lips hit yours in a desperate kiss, both your hands coming up to cup her jaw. Emily pushed her knee between your legs, thigh pressing against your pussy, making you gasp. She took the opportunity to slip her tongue in your mouth, moaning when she felt you grind your hips down on her thigh. "Take this as a sign to respect people when they give you advice, okay?" She panted, biting down on your lower lip. You whined, pushing her away from you by the shoulders so you could bite back with "What kind of advice is telling me to cover up my tattoos?"

"Well unless you want me pouncing on you every day, I'd suggest you take it." She whispered before reconnecting your lips together, her hand lowering from the side of your face so she could unbutton your trousers. Tugging Emily closer to you, you briefly separated your lips from hers to whisper "Yeah, no way I'm taking that advice." Your words were cut off into a gasp when Emily slid her fingers under your panties, finding your clit in no time. "Emily, we're gonna get caught!" You whispered, all hints of sass leaving your voice. "Not if you stay quiet sweetheart." She kicked one of your legs to the side, making you spread them further as she rubbed your wetness around your entrance, pressing kisses on your neck.

Probing two fingers at your entrance, she slowly sunk them into your core, observing your face carefully. The second your jaw fell open, a loud whine escaping you, she slapped her free hand on top of your open mouth, quickly averting her gaze to the rest of the parking lot, making sure you in fact would not get caught. "What did I just say?" She angrily muttered, pressing herself against you even more, trapping you between her body and your car. Both your arms moved, one wrapping over her shoulder to help hold you up, the other coming up so you can grip her bicep tightly. Her fingers were quick to move in and out of you, the graphic squelching noises louder than the sounds of pleasure you were making, head leaning back against the cool steel of your black car with your eyes shut tightly.

Desperate for more friction, your thighs squeezed around Emily's hand, a silent plea for more. Her hand didn't budge against your mouth, even when you drooled on it, instead slowing the hand inside you so she could rub your clit with her thumb while thrusting in and out of you. You're sure her hand will start cramping at any moment now. Your brows furrow, and you moan quietly against her, accepting the forehead kisses she gives you as a compromise for trying to stay quiet. You try telling Emily you're going to cum, but your words muffle against her hand. However, she somehow gets the hint from the way you give her a desperate look and your thighs start shaking, moans getting harder to compress. "Shhh, good girl, good girl." She mutters, leaning so close to you her breath hits your ear.

When your quiet moans subside, Emily finally removes her hand from over your mouth, instead using it to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. She lets you catch her breath before pulling out of you, buttoning up your trousers while you observe her quietly. "Thank you." You finally say timidly. Emily grins, leaning in for one last kiss. "How about you let me take you out on a date this weekend." You nod with a laugh, turning around to tug your car door open. "Oh my god, we're so dumb." You gasp, spinning to face Emily again. At her confused expression, you continue, stating "We could have done all of that in my fucking car." Emily laughs, leaning down to pick up her bag before she walks off, calling out "Good night!"

[idesofrevolution]

Sweat and Polyester

Siyu Jiang was in love. After moving to the United States from Guangzhou to get his degree in Software Engineering, it was a hard pill to swallow that he was less than stellar at mingling with his peers. Guangzhou was a mega city, easy for him to blend in and mind his own business, busy enough for him to get a contact-high of sorts to feed his need for socialization. New Orleans on the other hand, while not a small town per se, felt tiny and almost claustrophobic to him. Everyone knew eachother, and everyone took the time to chat, go out, have a drink or a blunt, 'fraternize' if you catch my drift... and Siyu quietly observed from a distance, watching the world bustle by.

That is, until he saw Eduardo. In China, he had never felt attracted to men. Perhaps it was the somewhat hostile environment for queer folks, or perhaps it was New Orleans' more laissez-faire attitude about stuff like that, but when the new semester started and he walked into that chemistry class, it was like fireworks erupted from his eyes. Eduardo was on the basketball team, pretty great at it too. He was tall, he was fit, he had those big brown eyes that made Siyu see sideways. When he plopped down in his seat next to Siyu, still in the gym clothes he'd worn to practice an hour or so before and wafting the subtle scent of salty musk from his tattooed body, their eyes met for the first time. A simple smile and a gentle introduction made Siyu's heart flutter, he was laid back and spoke effortlessly with a relaxed and friendly demeanor. Over the first two weeks or so sitting next to him, Eduardo had really helped Siyu feel less alone and less isolated, simply by being kind and taking the time to strike up a conversation with him.

It wasn't long before Siyu was beneath the bleachers in the basketball court, watching a sweaty, jovial Eduardo shoot hoops and practice with the team. It was no secret around campus that Eduardo was bisexual, having streams of girls as well as several teammates going in and out of his dorm room all the time. As mentioned before, the people around there talk, and from what Siyu had overhead, he was a giver and one of the best beds in town. This only added fuel to his fire, as his obsessive love for this sweet, oblivious jock boy grew stronger with each whisper of his name and bounce of the orange ball.

Thus it came to be on that Tuesday evening on a cold November night that Siyu decided to make Eduardo love him. Though, there was a problem. Outside of the obvious signs: him being on the basketball team, him fucking anything that moved, him always have the subtle whiff of reefer about him, and some of the company he'd keep, Siyu really knew nothing of Eduardo's interests. Worse even, the ones he did know about were far outside of his own. Siyu was simply too different of a person to snag his crush's attention. Thus, he focused on who did catch his eye.

Enter Ethan Lafferty. Ethan was everything Siyu wasn't: muscular, tall (even more than the 6'2 Eduardo), confident, cocky even. He was point guard on the team, and Eduardo's best friend. The two couldn't have been more different. Eduardo was sweet, kind, relaxed, a flirt, everyone's favorite guy. Ethan on the other hand, was brash, loud, dumb as a box of rocks, stank of a locker room at high noon, and spent most of his time either banging the entire cheerleading squad on a livestream or downing bottles of Jameson and snorting mountains of cocaine at some hole in the wall bar in the French Quarter. Despite their completely polar personalities, the two were nearly inseparable. It always came off as peculiar that such a stereotypical straight alpha dude bro would be best friends with a queer guy, even if they were teammates.

Siyu began to frequent the duo's hoop sessions, masked in darkness beneath the cavernous space beneath the seats, taking notes on his phone of what he could observe. In his mind, he saw himself as a horny, gay Jane Goodall: observing the hot boys in their natural habitat, and how they interact. Their relationship became clearer over time. Eduardo would be the first to arrive, sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone until Ethan would burst through the gymnasium door, holding his smelly red shoes and making a loud fuss about whatever girl he'd 'bedded' the night before. The two would sit on the bench, side by side, laughing at Ethan's shitty and demeaning jokes while he threw his arm around Eduardo's neck and ruffled his hair. Even from the clandestine cave he'd hidden away in, he could see Eduardo blush just at Ethan's touch. It was beyond him what a brute like Ethan brought to the table, but Siyu realized whatever it was, Eduardo was into it. If being like that mouthbreathing, smelly dumbass was what would make Eduardo love him, then so be it.

He started to wear a gold chain and earrings, just like Ethan. Sure, the earring was a clip on, and the necklace was cheap plate, but Eduardo quickly complimented him once he'd noticed a few days into it. He started to wear athletic shirts and shorts, some that he'd stolen from the dormitory laundry bin of course, but he'd hoped the effect would sink in. Eduardo didn't take as much of a notice of this, and thus began the diminishing returns of Siyu's efforts. He stopped wearing deodorant, thinking his own pheromones would compete, which they didn't. Not even an acknowledgement. He sketched marker tattoos on his arm, saying he was trying out designs to see what worked. He received a raised eyebrow and silence. The more he tried desperately to impress Eduardo, the less and less it seemed to make a difference. Frankly, he noticed Eduardo pulling away. Their nice little chats before lecture started to disappear, the friendly knuckle bump he would get as they ran into each other in the quad quickly followed suit. The more he tried to be Ethan, telling oddly misogynistic jokes and sipping whiskey from his water bottle in class... the more Eduardo wanted nothing to do with him.

It made no sense to him. He was doing everything right. When Ethan did it on the court, or in the dining hall, or in the library, or even in his dorm room as Siyu had his ear pressed against the door; Eduardo ate it up, his big brown eyes looked at him like he was the most lovely creature on earth. When Siyu tried it, it was met with an awkward glance and a miserable nod. He was losing him. All the work was for naught. It was time to take drastic measures.

Siyu searched high and low through every academic paper he could find in that library to find a way to make someone love him. When that came up with dead ends, he searched how to change your personality, which supplied an equal amount of nothing. Psychology, philosophy, sociology, anthropology, neuroscience, even religion... nothing he found seemed to address his quandary. That's when he dug into the dark corners of the library itself: the occult, cults, mysticism, mythology, demonology... That's when he finally came across it. The key. The knight in shining armor. The solution to his problem.

Siyu was absent from class that Friday, the only day he'd ever missed in Chemistry. He was far too busy preparing for what was to go down that evening in the gym. From sun up to sun down, he was squirreled away in his dark dorm room, a single light on his desk illuminating the old archaic book. To his left, the culmination of his research, a small spray bottle filled with a strange yellow liquid. His trash bin was filled with empty envelopes from Indonesia, Mozambique, Paraguay, Lesotho, Norway, and Russia. Remnants of a shopping spree of esoteric ingredients so outlined in the ancient texts, all of which were less than simple and far beyond illegal to obtain. Though, to Siyu, it mattered not. This was to be his final act, there were no consequences that would matter after it was all over.

As 7:30 struck, as expected, Eduardo entered the gym, setting his bag onto the shining wooden floor and scrolling through his socials. Siyu crouched in his standard spot in the shadows, watching Eduardo's feet bounce absentmindedly mere inches from him as he waited for his friend. It didn't take long, as Ethan kicked open the door, shouting his typical "Bruh! You're not gonna believe what happened last night." Siyu turned off his ears, uninterested in hearing yet another story about ecstasy, booze, and his weird thing for Charlize Theron's legs. Instead, he took the little plastic cap off the spray bottle, and sat silently beneath Ethan as he put on his stinking shoes. As he sat there, talking about absolutely nothing of substance, Siyu spritzed his feet gently with the concoction. He didn't notice a thing, continuing to chide and play around with Eduardo as Siyu sprayed the back of his legs and shorts, then his shirt and finally the back of his neck through the holes in the bleachers. By the time they got up and began to play their game, Ethan was entirely unaware he was coated with the elixir.

Ethan and Eduardo had a particularly impressive match between them. Eduardo had to keep up with Ethan's frantic energy, which he'd never had a problem with before. Hoop after hoop, he would scream and shout, rubbing it in his friend's laughing face. It was their best hoop sesh yet, fitting it would be their last. Go out on a bang, thought Siyu, as that energy quickly began to deplete. Before long, Ethan had complained about his knee giving out before he could dunk.

"Fuck, bruh. I guess kicking your ass tired me the fuck out!" Eduardo laughed at his friend, pushing his head down as he walked past.

"Your coke is wearing off I bet. I haven't seen you play like that in a long time, man! What the fuck did you take?" Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, a subtle ache beginning to radiate at the base of his skull.

"I didn't take anything, fucktard! I'm just that good, and you needed a reminder." The two laughed like morphine-riddled hyenas, before plopping back down on the bench above Siyu. Their delectable scent washed down atop him like a waterfall of pheromones. "But I may need a minute, huhu."

"Yeah man, take a breather. Wouldn't want you to get too exhausted before tomorrow's game." Eduardo winked as he picked up his bag, saying his goodbye before walking out the side door, leaving Ethan massaging his aching wet feet on the bench. It was time. Siyu slowly made his way out from beneath the bleachers, his cheap shoes squeaking on the court as he approached Ethan.

"What does he see in you?" Siyu strolled over to Ethan, who chuckled to himself as he put his socked foot back into his shoe.

"Ahh fuck, man. What the fuck are you doing here?" Ethan was panting. To him, he had a hard workout. To Siyu, the elixir was working.

"You are awful, Ethan. You're rude, you're crass, you treat others like shit, and you smell. You're a real keeper, aren't you?" Ethan turned to Siyu, his indifferent expression melting away to indignancy. He jumped from his seat, ready to pound this 5 foot nerd into oblivion, until that damned knee gave out again, toppling him back onto the bench.

"Fuck. You better be thankful I'm tapped after that workout, fucker. You should thank me really, you'd be in the ground by now." Siyu stared with absolute apathy, knowing fully well he would not be brutalized by this waning star.

"You're scum, but he would do anything for you. I can't figure out why, trust me I've tried. But you have something going on in that empty brain of yours that he can't get over." Ethan turned and snickered under his breath.

"I know you. You're that little fuckin' cocksucker who's stalking Eddy, aren't you? See-who or whatever your fuckin' name is. Listen, buddy, I'll just tell you. He's not interested, alright? You have nothing he's looking for, so just leave him the fuck alo..." Ethan tried once more to stand, only for his legs to once again give out. "Fuck! What the fuck is going on?" Siyu smirked.

"I know. I'm not what he's looking for, again: I have tried. But you are what he's looking for, and you don't even see it." Siyu walked closer to the sweating jock, dripping from every pore as if he were in the throws of scarlet fever. "I've decided to do something about that, Ethan. You're no good for a guy that's as incredible and lovely and glorious as Eduardo, and I'm going to make sure that whatever it is you have that I don't gets put to good use." Ethan looked down at his legs, growing smaller and frail by the second. It looked as if he were melting, his skin sagging, his muscles deflating, his body just sinking into a puddle of sweat on the floorboards. Whatever slurs he wished he could launch at Siyu were caught in his collapsing throat as he gurgled and bubbled. Siyu watched with a gleeful malice, watching the top competitor sink into a puddle of his own fetid sweat. There was but one single glance of abject rage from Ethan's face before it too had plummeted to the ground, leaving behind his sopping wet clothes and a silent gymnasium. Siyu took a couple of seconds to just breathe and bask in his success. He looked down at the clothes and shoes, wafting his enemy's pungent scent, imbued by the puddle of his own essence he'd become.

Now full of excitement, with a pep in his step, he gathered the dripping clothes and shoes, slipping them into Ethan's gym bag before stealing away into the night. He quickly found himself bolting across the quad, hoping and praying no one saw him with another student's bag in his possession. Bursting into the dormitory, he ran up the stairs to his floor, taking a moment to breathe before he gingerly opened the hall door. Tip toeing ever so quietly down the carpeted hallway, praying at the last minute he wouldn't be caught by a languid R.A. or a drunk neighbor. The universe, it seems, was on his side that evening, as he unlocked his door and slipped in entirely unseen. Collapsing onto his bed, the heavy and damp bag sat next to him, radiating heat from within it's shiny plastic confines. It was time to finish this.

He turned to the bag, slowly unzipping it, allowing the dank, wet air within to rush out into his room. Ethan must have lived out of this bag, as it was filled with basketball shorts, sweatshirts, socks, shoes, blender bottles filled with protein shakes, and of course the lone sweat-soaked joint at the bottom. Siyu began shucking the wayward clothes onto his chair across the room, pleased to know he would have a couple of outfits that would fit him once this was all over. He emptied out the bag until the Ethan-infused clothes were all that was left in the bottom of the bag, swimming in a puddle of musky liquid.

Siyu smirked as he took out each piece, laying them out on the ground one by one. Tee shirt. Shorts. Disgusting jock strap. Ripe socks. Even riper sneakers. Finishing it off with the gold chain and single earring. It was all there. Rushing to his desk, Siyu grabbed the very last component to his plan: two facemasks, one white and one black. These two would be the final inoculation that would keep his changes permanent over time. Two weeks of breathing it in, letting it merge with his own essence, he would ensure that the new Siyu would be around long enough to ensnare his sweetheart. He bent down, picking up the jockstrap and a sock, both still dripping, and wringing out a sizeable amount of the stinking sweat to fall onto each mask. The stage was set, the materials were prepped, and it was time to make himself the perfect soulmate for Eduardo.

He started with the jockstrap. Even post-wringing, it still sat warm and damp, yellowed with the sweat and cum that had long sunk into it's fibers. Putting his two lithe feet into the straps, he nervously pulled up, droplets of the sweat rolling down his hairless legs before it fit loosely on his skinny waist. The change was immediate. There was no momentary ounce of silence and some slow change. No, his groin immediately ballooned out, the pouch quickly filling and pushing out tout against the wet fabric. His ass inflated loudly, the sounds of stretching and creaking rubber marked the expansion of his flat rear into two round and hairy orbs like basketballs on a shelf. Siyu gingerly groped his ass, dripping in sweat from the wiry hairs he'd never before had sprout out of his smooth skin. He cackled loudly, pulling the front strap forward, and peering into his hammock. He was met with a long, uncut python and two egg sized balls wafting out his new masculine cocksmell.

Now entirely intrigued, blinded by a sense of foreign hubris he'd long suppressed, he grabbed the shirt, slipping it over his head in one quick motion. The shirt quickly started to quake, turning from white to black, before his arms dropped like sacks of potatoes. Two firm pecs burst out from beneath the slick fabric, followed by his shoulders widening to twice it's former length. Siyu continued his moans of hedonistic pleasure, while his arms bulked up: firm but lean biceps and forest of hair growing from his forearms down to his wrists, before tattoos sprouted down his tan skin. He held out his hands, raucously laughing as his fingers lengthened, callouses appearing on his sweaty palms, and veins snaking wildly all the way up his arms.

"Interesting." Siyu's insane laughter ceased immediately. His eyes darted around the dark room, searching for the voice which had loudly billowed out of the shadows. "Fuck, bruh I thought I was dead fucking meat back there. But shit, it looks like you fucked up your little recipe didn't you?" Siyu's hands began to slowly clap, not at all under his full control.

"What the fuck? Where are you? How are you here?" His sweaty hand clasped over his mouth, sticking his middle finger into his mouth like gag.

"Aww, Siyu. What's wrong, buddy? You didn't wanna get rid of me, did ya? Nahhh. You wanted to BE me." His left hand grasped the shorts, slowly pulling them up his legs while his calves and quads burst out, covered in a thick carpet of black hairs. He shot up in height, easily breaking 6' 3" in seconds. He looked down, the height disorienting him as he gagged himself. "You got your wish, fucker. Kind of, at least. See, you thought you could turn me into a puddle and wear my shit, get all swole and dope as fuck, and what... He'd fall in love with you?" Siyu's eyes widened in terror. "Yeah, fucker I can see it all! I'm in here with you now. I can see how you jacked off to the idea of him plowing your ass after a long game. I can see how you followed him all over fucking town all the time. I can see how you thought some fuckin' magic bullshit would make you like me so you could force him to love you. Gotta say, that's some fucked up shit killing off your crush's best friend so you have no competition." Siyu's body bent over, picking up the socks, before plopping down onto the chair, surrounded by Ethan's clothes.

"See, you think I didn't know Eddy was into me? You think we didn't jack off together in our rooms when we needed a release? You think I wasn't into him too?" The hands slipped on the sopping wet socks, as his feet started soak up Ethan's sweaty essence, quickly followed by the nasty red shoes. As the laces were tied snug, his feet began to crack and swell, his arch growing tall and his toes lengthening out. Tattoos sprawled over the tops of his stinking feet and ankles, as the red fabric quickly turned orange, widening and lengthening even larger than Ethan's, until they were two massive size 15's. "Heheh, he likes feet, just so you know. Right when we get home after a long day, he loves it when I peel off my shoe and shove his face in it." Siyu felt his hand pinch his cheeks, and his middle finger caress his tongue in his mouth. "Thing is, Siyu, I was straight. I only had eyes for pussy, and fuck bruh, I knew how to stick my dick in it. I liked it when he sucked my nasty cock clean, but you know, it was just something between bros, you know?" Siyu slapped his meaty thighs, standing up tall and picking up the white facemask there on the ground. Tears ran down his terrified face as his own hands drew it closer.

"But now that I'm here, now that you and I are one, I think you may be right, dude." Siyu moaned against the hand over his mouth, just before it slipped out and grasped the other side of the mask. "I think we and Eddy are gonna be soulmates." He shrieked as the mask adhered over his nose and chin, and around his ears. Siyu could do nothing as he felt his brows lowering, his greasy hair falling out of his chiseled skull, quickly replaced by a sweaty black fade. His lips pillowed out as his long, meaty tongue licked them as he smirked with his pearly white teeth. Siyu could feel Ethan's consciousness wrap around him, like a tight latex suit compressing him tighter and tighter and tighter, until he visualize Ethan finally penetrating him. He pulled down his shorts and began to pump his greasy dick, while Ethan made himself at home inside of Siyu. Their traits intermingling with eachother- merging everything between them that would have made them distinct, now creating an amalgamation of both. As his balls began to shudder, pre cum dripping from his hooded cockhead, there was no more Ethan, and there was no more Siyu.

The first volley of spunk shot from his dick, memories of fucking gals on the weekends and guys on the weekdays solidified in his mind. Second volley of spunk, a sense of cocky self assurance swelled within him, though washed with a sense of empathy and camaraderie to mellow him out. Third volley of spunk, he was booksmart in his IT classes, but dumb as a box of rocks, choosing to funnel his free time out of class into the team and chilling out with his bros. Fourth volley of spunk, he loved Eduardo. That sweet, adorable, kinky little fuck was the apple of his eye, and he'd do anything for him. Though, he couldn't get too lovey dovey, he knew all too well that being chased and obsessed over was the quickest way to turn him off. He would happily tease, flirt, kiss, suck and fuck him, but he would let Eddy come to him. Fifth and final volley, his identity now centralized and firm: he was Shan Eoyang, a Chinese exchange student on scholarship for basketball. He was cool, he was hot, he was the golden hearted bad boy that made everyone around him go wild. The world was his oyster, and he would be there with his man by his side, and the various others who would worship at their sweaty masculine feet. He opened his eyes, and Shan took his first deep breath, taking in his own scent embedded into his mask.

"Fuuuuuuuck dude, that's good." He slipped his cock back into his dirty jockstrap, knowing all too well that Eddy would be into it when they finally met up. Bringing his fingers to his ears, he came perilously close to prying off his mask, though something in the back of his mind told him it probably wasn't the best idea. He pulled out his phone, not recognizing it whatsoever. It had his boyfriend's face as the screensaver, but it wouldn't take his password or fingerprint. Must be the previous tenant's phone, he thought to himself, as he opened the window and chucked it from the building. He'd run out and get one in the morning before class, as he had a bunch of scholarship money to burn.

---

Eduardo waited outside the basketball court, wondering where Ethan was. It was almost 8, and while he was never particularly adept at being on time, he would have at least texted. He looked down at his phone, scrolling through his Grindr, looking for whoever was available after hoops. Ethan would definitely let him suck him off in the locker room, but meh, that wasn't really going anywhere anyway. Thankfully, Siyu wasn't in class, apparently he'd dropped out from what the professor had said. At minimum he was relieved that the creepy little guy wasn't going to be following him home at night anymore.

Just as he was preparing to call it a night, the door burst open at the end of the hall. He turned to give Ethan a hard time for being so late, but the man before him was not Ethan. He was the tall, dark, and handsome archetype personified. He sauntered over to him with a confident stride, oozing a sense of pride and sexual energy.

"Oh... shit man. You uh, you caught me off guard. I was just waiting for my friend." The man approached Eduardo with smiling eyes behind the black facemask on his chin.

"You're Eddy, right? I'm a new student, just got on the basketball team. Coach says you might be able to show me around the place, if you're down of course? Name's Shan." Shan leaned against the wall, letting his hand rest on his neck, and smirking beneath the fabric as his sharp pit musk wafted at his gorgeous new teammate. Eduardo, happily letting in the stud's scent, lapped it up and shuddered.

"Yeah, man. I'm so down, I'm Eduardo. Friends call me Eddy." Shan leaned in close, their noses now inches from eachother.

"Eddy, then. Sounds like a good time, someone like you would probably be able to show me a lot." Shan winked, and Eddy blushed a bright red, nodding gingerly. "Well shit, how's about we shoot a couple hoops, we go back to my room and we show eachother around, what do you say?" Eduardo looked down, seeing Shan's massive well worn sneakers, which had inched their way to his own until they were firmly touching. Oh shit yeah, this guy was perfect.

"I say fuck yeah, man. Show me what you're made of." Eddy made the move, letting his fingers slowly touch Shan's forearm. Happily received, Shan ruffled his soon-to-be boyfriend's hair, as if it were second nature.

"Oh I'm gonna kick your ass on the court. We'll see what I do with it when we're done." He slapped Eddy's back, tossing his sweaty arm around his shoulder as the two walked into the court. They would be inseparable once again, and yet inseparable for the first time.

[rexscanonwife]

'Are we allies or enemies?

This will be the death of me

All is fair in love and war but I can't fight with you anymore

This will be the death of me'

I've been wanting to talk more about Crosshair and Brea's relationship for a WHILE now, but I never really found the 'right' time (in my silly brain) I guess you can say they...know each other very well! As you can imagine it's filled with drama, romantic tension, and lots and lots of angst! 0u0 a little more info + textless illustrations under the cut ♡♡♡

Sooooo, I tend to think of this as sort of an AU! If I'm being SUPER duper canon-compliant with my self ship lore it's not really the focus, but if I play around with timeline a little bit I can come up with this. Brea is a newly knighted Jedi, having just passed the trials, and despite holding rank in the Clone Wars she's not a general because she has no battalion. HOWEVER, there is a band of misfits that have been sort of running around doing their own thing, going where needed, sort of the way she does. The idea is what if for a short time she was the BAD BATCH'S Jedi?

In this scenario, the boys are a bit reluctant to take orders from her because they don't believe they NEED a Jedi. They're not really about rules and protocol and mandates...but they soon find out that neither is Brea! She's perfect for them, she matches their energy and allows them to make decisions the way they want. They all become very close...except for Crosshair, who still doesn't trust her. He only trusts his brothers, everyone else is an outsider.

I'll probably talk about it more later, but she does something or other that proves her care for them as individuals and one thing leads to another, Crosshair and Brea are something of an item. Not a couple per se, but FAMILIAR if you know what I mean. However, it's because of Crosshair's emotional constipation that it doesn't really go further than that, and it's ALSO because of his emotional constipation that things start to change between them! And when you bring Brea's new Padawan Kepler into the mix, things go very sour very quickly.

To make a long story short, Crosshair burns his bridge with Brea long before he joins the empire and he didn't even know it. By the time he does, she's moved on and is in love with a certain other clone! All of that is more stuff to talk about another time though ^ 0 ^ if you've read all this thank you so much and ilysm! 🫶🫶🫶

Taglist♡: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @miutonium @cherry-bomb-ships @rosieaurora @rejaytionships @sunflawyer @in-true-blue-love @tropicalgothships @little-miss-selfships @hotrodharts @cupiidzbow @frozenhi-chews @limey-self-inserts @candyheartedchy

[bbyblair]

small touches, pink cheeks pt.2

charles leclerc x f!reader 

pt.1

 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: right pt.2! hope you guys like it, this is a sloooow burn so you are all into a wild ride! thank you for all the support on part one!

summary: the start of the 2023 season, Bahrain in early march. you'd recently joined the sky team, working as a news reporter and interviewer for your beloved sport.it's your first week and a mix of nerves and anticipation swirl together in your stomach. you're giddy to finally meet who you’d be working with for the next few months… but what happens when an instant connection sparks up between the new girl and Ferrari's golden boy? 

warnings: cursing, charles being a cocky bastard. charles obsessed with reader! reader isn't sure how to feel abt him. pretty much a whirlwind of emotions and events ngl. probs non accurate f1 talk, I apologise!

word count: 2.0k

friday, march 3rd 2023.

you were stumped, emotions swirling in your mind and you didn't know how to properly react. on one hand you were flattered that the handsome man was paying attention to you that way, but the rational side of your brain quickly shut down those thoughts and you went back to feeling angry. slightly less angry, but angry nevertheless.you watched over the video another few times, okay so maybe charles actions were not as obvious as you initially thought. this could be seen as a friendly admiration, right? 

you sigh and lean your head down onto the table, letting out a small huff of annoyance, but you could still feel the heat on your cheeks after this morning. deciding to take a break from the editing, you got up and informed your coworkers that you wanted to look a bit more around the paddock and try to familiarise yourself with the copious amount of people who worked in the ten different teams. 

it was around two hours before the free practice would start and you assumed that all of the drivers would be already discussing strategies and looking over the track details. the circuit itself was huge and swarming with fans and workers. your sky f1 id hanging from your neck proudly, and allowed you to go all around the paddock with no questions asked. 

walking past the mercedes area you had spotted toto wolff, and internally fangirled a little to yourself, having a small crush and also lots of respect for the mercedes team principal. continuing around the paddock you passed the red bull area, you couldn't say that you had a team you were vouching for per se, but the dominance of red bull did annoy you slightly, you did always love a bit of competition. 

after looking around the red bull hospitality area, your eyes landed on an extremely familiar face. Well you hadnt actually seen him in real life but you certainly had seen him on tv. none other than max verstappen. he was already wearing his fireproofs and was gripping his helmet in his hand while having a conversation with who you assumed was one of the mechanics. you were staring a little, he looked different in real life. not like the mad max the media made him out to be. 

his conversation ended and he must've felt someones eyes on him, as while the mechanic turned and left inside, max's eyes landed on yours. he quickly looked over you and you could almost see something align on his face. he shot you a wide smile and then beckoned you over. shocked, you stood there for a moment and looked around meaninglessly to see if he was motioning for someone else. sure enough there was no one else around. 

slow steps moved you over to the man and you sent him a polite smile. 

“hi, im Max. you must be the new reporter for this season. I thought i better introduce myself seeing as we will be seeing each other a lot this season.” he sent you a playful wink and chuckled a little. 

you laughed a genuine laugh and a smile spread across your face, and you were surprised by his kind attitude. 

“y/n. Its lovely to meet you max.” 

“so tell me, have you been introduced to any of the other drivers yet?.” his eyes never left yours as he spoke, his tone was sweet like honey.  “yes, this morning i actually did an interview with the ferrari boys!” you replied back eagerly. 

“ah, well I hope they were accommodating to the new girl.” he said as he pinched your shoulder lightly. “of course.” you replied curtly. 

he looked around for a moment, and in his eyes looked as if he wanted to say more, but seemingly decided against it. 

“well i best go prepare for free practice but it was a pleasure meeting you.” his dutch accent lacing his words. you smiled up at him again and nodded. “you too!” 

.┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

after your interaction with max you wandered down across the rest of the team's areas and luckily for you didn't bump into anyone else. you heard the roar of fans and assumed that free practice had begun and the drivers would be making their ways out onto the track to test their new cars for the season. you decided you better get back to work before your co workers notice your prolonged absence. 

swiftly you began walking back to the sky hq, and once you were firmly sat back at your desk you opened your laptop and began the tedious process of editing whatever the hell the interview this morning was. well hopefully the fans will enjoy it, you thought. Your co worker amilie made her way over to you with two coffees in hand and sat down next to you. she was a sweet girl, you'd only met her yesterday but she clearly took a liking to you. you were both around the same age, her being a few years older, and had some similar interests. 

“do you mind if i take a look at todays interview, the boss wants me to look over some stuff to make sure they didn't let slip anything a little too personal.” she said warmly. 

“yeah of course.. here.” you handed her the laptop, and sat there while she pressed play. heat began to rise up on your cheeks but you hoped she wouldn't notice the tension between you and charles. a few minutes into the extended clip she turned to look at you, your expression tried to be as neutral as possible, but you never did have the best poker face. 

“whats all this about then?” her words were not rude, she spoke with a girlish interest and smiled at you. 

“what?’ you replied dumbly, trying to avoid the question. 

“between you and leclerc!” 

even more blush threatened to explode on your cheeks as you sighed. shaking your head lightly. 

“I dont know what your talking about.” you tried to reply in a tone that indicated you wanted this conversation to end but she continued. 

“oh come on! he is so into you! even i am jealous. leclerc has the hots for you!” her french accent peaked through her words and how she spoke with such excitement and interest made a small smile grace your lips.

“like i said, i dont know what your talking about.” your tone this time was playful and you rolled your eyes and nudged your new friend. the conversation died there as she knew you wouldn't say anything more.

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

you two stayed there for a matter of hours. editing the interview and getting it ready to be posted online. once you were done it was already the evening and most had packed up to leave. 

you began packing your bag and said goodbye to the few people still in the small office space. heading out of the building you began making your way through the paddock. to get to the exit you had to pass along all of the different teams' areas. mostly the building were dark, some motor homes lit up with people inside. 

passing by the ferrari section, you let curiosity get the best of you and peeked into the window. your eyes instantly fell on a familiar face. charles. he was sitting alone, watching over some footage of what you assumed was his free practice one today. headphones were wrapped around his neck and he was dressed in different clothes to this morning. just a comfortable sweat seat.you had to admit he was a very attractive guy. 

clearly you had been looking at him for longer than you realised, because his head suddenly snapped toward the window and eyes instantly locking with yours. blush erupted all over your face as you didn't know what to do. shit. he had just caught you staring at him. god you were mortified. a smirk spread across his handsome face quicker than you could blink and he sent you a small wave. his eyes had that same dark expression as they did earlier. 

its like you were frozen in place, legs refusing to move. you sent him  a shy wave and immediately  turned to leave. when you looked back behind to see charles, he had gone from his space in the small room. your stomach dropped. you didn't want to face him again, his cocky attitude annoyed you, and his stupid smirk, and his stupid unreadable expression! charles leclerc annoyed you. 

you heard some steps behind you and then a masculine voice saying your name. fuck. you didn't want to face him, but you didn't risk pissing him off and him then reporting you to your boss. you could loose your job! you stopped in your tracks, rolled your yes then turned around.

“mr leclerc.” you spoke sweetly and the way you addressed him clearly sat well with him when he chuckled a little. 

“so, how was your first day? did you enjoy your first interview?” there was that mischievous glint in his eye again, and the way he spoke just instantly made you blush. there was something about him that you couldn't quite place. 

“yes. i had fun.” you tried to keep your responses short and snappy. to try and send a signal that you wanted to leave. clearly charles was not a man who gave up very easily, when he responded. “good, i'm glad. did you meet anyone else today? any of the other drivers.” in his mind charles had thought that you and his teammate were the only ones who had seen the pretty new interviewer. he liked knowing he had you all to himself. so your next words clearly shocked him.

“yes actually, max. he was very welcoming.” you spoke softly. his gaze darkened and his jaw clenched. he didn't respond for a few moments. you took in his reaction, and it made you laugh internally. you could definitely use this against him.to annoy him the same way he annoys you! so before he could reply you spoke up again. 

“i'm so excited to work with him! i'm a big fan of redbull and it was such an honour to meet the best driver in the world!” now, most of what you were saying was a total lie, but charles didn't know. your tone was sickly sweet and as you spoke you batted your eyelashes up at him so innocently, that he did not question your words for a second. 

you didn't think his eyes could get any darker, but he proved you wrong. you could tell he was trying to control his breathing, his eyes piercing into yours so deeply that you got intimidated. he then let out a chuckle. not an amused chuckle. the kind of chuckle that you do when you are very fucking pissed off. he nodded. 

“hm. well we will just have to see who is really the best driver on the track this sunday no?” his words had a bite to them, and when he got angry his accent thickened in a way that is so delicious. he smiled at you. eyes never leaving your face as if he was trying to memorise every small detail about your face. 

you smiled and nodded again. then without even granting him a verbal response you turned on your heel and began walking back through the paddock to the exit. charles was stunned. and your heart was racing, never did you actually expect yourself to make such a ballsy move. your actually quite shocked at what the hell you just did. 

charles was also stunned. a girl had never ever dismissed him before. he was used to them falling to his feet. you shocked him. but if there's one thing charles enjoyed, it's a challenge. 

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

wow. hope you guys enjoyed reading this part and it lived up to your expectations lmao! lmk if anyone wants to be tagged in the next parts <3

pt3?

tagged: @buendiabebeta @summerslike11

[mydearesthrry]

hey love, im absolutely in love w your writing and wanted to ask if you could write something about harry asking reader/(y/n) out? maybe he’s super nervous cause he’s been crushing on her for awhile <3

obvious - h.s.

a/n: thank you for the request, lovie! this got a little messy but i hope i lived up to your wishes a little. enjoyyyy <3

🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff ofc, harry being a little nervy boy

🐇 pairing: actress!reader x harry styles

💐 wc: 1.1k

summary: y/n thought she was being so obvious- looks like she was wrong.

“You look incredible,” Harry mutters, eyes trying to stray off of his script in an attempt to memorize it for the scene the next day. “I’ve been thinking we should try something crazy…” He pauses, trying to let the scene play out as accurately as possible. “Let’s have a baby.” 

A few beats pass. “What?” YN follows, a bewildered look in her eyes. Harry just smiles, eyes flicking down at his script, nodding when he remembered his line. 

“I mean, not right this second, obviously, we don’t have time. But…” Throwing the words around in his head, trying to ignore his chest squeezing at how accurate his next words were in reference to her, “I love you, and I want more of you, and now I think I want a little you. I don’t know. It’d be an adventure.”

Their eyes catch each other, and they share a look that they both couldn’t explain even meant. YN dropped her gaze first before clearing her throat and shifting on the sofa. “Yeah, that was great, H. I think we’ll do well tomorrow.” 

Harry sniffed and looked down at his script, flipping back to the title page. “Um– yeah, we will.” 

Fuck. Harry thought. His hands kept fidgeting, left leg bouncing up and down. He wasn’t even anxious, per se, but he felt so incredibly nervous because of the pretty angel sitting next to him. He’d been pining over her since he was a teenager, watching all of her movies the day they came out, and listening to all of the tracks that she’d sung on every soundtrack. He even went on a spontaneous trip with the boys when they were in New York just to see her perform on Broadway. 

So safe to say, when he got the call back that he’d gotten the role of Jack Chambers in Don’t Worry Darling, he was doing somersaults when he found out who his on screen wife would be. It felt crazy to him that his dreams from when he was in tenth year had finally come to fruition— kind of. The two had a weird relationship at first, YN being extremely closed off and standoffish at the beginning, but she slowly let Harry break down her cemented walls that she’s had up for so long. She didn’t know why, but for some reason, Harry was one of the only people that she allowed to get to know her– fully, at least. 

“Okay, pretty boy, it’s getting pretty late, and I have an earlier call time tomorrow than you do, so I think I’m gonna head out now.” Standing up, she brushed off the front of her gray sweatpants, showing up to Harry’s flat in the most comfortable clothes possible since she knew she would be there for a while. She picked up their now empty wine glasses, them having shared a glass or two throughout the course of the night. 

Harry didn’t give any response and an awkward silence filled the air, almost suffocating as YN stared at Harry in confusion. “H?” 

Nothing. 

Harry was lost in his thoughts, seemingly. I need to do it now, but what if she says no! What if I’ve been misreading her this entire time and she’s just being nice? But that wouldn’t even make sense, would it? She’s been picking up what I’ve been putting down… I think? Has she? Fuck… Wait, wait what? Is she leaving? Why’s she slipping her shoes on?

“Wait,” Harry managed to choke out, YN halting her movements immediately. “Don’t– um, don’t leave, please? Come sit down, I wanna… I wanna ask y’something.” 

Fuck, he was really doing this. 

“Been trying to tell you that I’m leaving for like, ten minutes now, Babe.” She laughed, toeing her shoe off, dropping the other one she had in her hand onto the floor. 

“What’s up? What’s the matter?” She traced his face with her eyes, clocking his distant look that was written all over his face. 

“Bug, have t’tell y’something, but if I’m wrong, y’have to tell me, promise?” Harry mumbled, eyes flicking down to his hands where he was fidgeting with his ringless fingers. His rings were in a velvety cinched bag that YN, of course, had gotten him at a little thrift shop they found. 

“Promise, babe. Now, what is it, is everything okay?” She gripped the bottom of his chin in an attempt to get him to look at her. It began reminding her of the scene they filmed earlier of their characters in the living room in a very vulnerable state. 

He was too nervous to say his next words to even realize she'd called him babe. “I… I- um- I don’t want this t’ruin our relationship, but I have t’tell y’cause it’s been basically eating at me, but I… I really like y’and I want nothing more than t’take y’out on a date. But, if y’don’t feel the same don’t worry! I jus’ didn’t want to not tell y’and ruin our friendship or anything, even though now I fear I’ve made it wors-” 

“Oh my God,” She cut him off, giggles that soon turned into full on cackles filling the air. He watched her in fear, a worried look now on his face at the thought that she was laughing at him. “Harry, sweet boy, I would love to go out with you.” 

“I- you- wha- what? I… I don’t think I understand?” He stumbled, her actions and words not adding up in his YN clouded brain. 

“I thought I was being so obvious about how I felt about you, H. Sorry for not being more clear, that’s on me. Is this why you’ve been so distant and weird with me lately? You’ve been acting like this just ‘cause you have a crush on me?” She tried to understand, but by the look on his face she could see that he was really not getting what was even happening right now. “Babe, I’ve liked you since I watched you in the crowd of the first AMA’s you went to. I didn’t even get to meet you, but I’ve liked you since I’ve seen you, and it honestly’s gotten worse since I have to pretend to be your wife on screen.” 

Harry was bewildered. “So, y’telling me, that all this time I’ve just had to ask? Instead of torturing myself every night?” 

“Yeah, bug, that’s what ‘M telling you,” She giggled, moving closer to him on the couch. “We’re doing this backward, I think. How’s it that I’ve had your literal tongue in my mouth before you’ve even taken me out on a date?” 

“Well, when you put it that way!” He laughs, pulling her onto his lap like he’s always wanted and waited to do. They sat in silence for a few beats, letting their eyes roam around their faces without worrying about the director yelling 'Cut!'.

“What’re you waiting for? Gonna ask me out officially?” She whispered, moving her face closer to Harry, them being able to now feel their breaths waft between them. 

“Nah, gonna kiss y’first, officially as us, and not as Jack and Alice.” Harry mumbled.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

And when their lips finally touched as Y/N and Harry, the teenage boy in Harry was practically doing backflips and somersaults, knowing that his dreams had finally come true.

[mirouie]

miles morales headcanons please with a reader who has anxiety and has panic attacks ?

୨ৎ 'don't you worry your pretty little head over it, dear!'

miles morales x anxious!gn!reader | wc: 0.8k

↳ warnings: mentions of anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, one mention of throwing up and lice(?)

↳ tags: fluff, slight hurt/comfort, soft miles, caring miles, established relationship

↳ a/n: hi, thank you so much for requesting! i based most of these off of my anxiety and the kind of attacks i have and i'm well aware that not everyone experiences the same thing, so i'm sorry if it's not what you had in mind, but thank you for requesting anyway! i hope you enjoy this one! <3

— first and foremost, miles is gentle. so, so gentle it makes your heart ache and make you feel warm all over.

miles is the type of person with whom you just feel so comfortable with. his presence is light, easygoing, and it makes him trustworthy.

earlier on in your relationship, you tell him about your anxiety. something you’d usually avoid when stepping into new, more intimate territory with your friends, but miles is just that person. it doesn’t feel burdensome when you tell him; in fact, it makes you feel almost relieved.

he’s nothing short of kind and caring when he knows. he’s genuine in all of the gentle questions he asks you, making notes upon notes mentally in order to prepare himself for future bouts. when he’s alone, he does more research into the things you feel and think about, their possible causes, specific symptoms, making it his personal mission to know every single remedy for every single situation (it’s neither possible nor impossible, per se, but leave it up to miles to find ways).

— he’s always got an eye out for any sign that you’re feeling anxious. he knows you down to the bare bones, so he’s always aware of the way you fiddle with your fingers and pick at your nails, or the little twitch of your neck or the shivers that run down your back. he knows by a sharp glance thrown his way that you need to step out for a bit to calm down, or by a squeeze on his forearm that you’re feeling that uneasy swelling in your chest and you need him to distract you. all your signals and mannerisms, no matter how big or small, he knows them all and is always ready to rush to your aid.

— the first time you have a panic attack in miles's presence, it's a bit of a mess, if you're being honest. despite everything he's done in order to prepare himself for times like these—all the research and the self-pep talks in the mirror, all kinda thrown out the window. not everything, but he does panic on his own a little when he sees you running short of breath and dissociating. he pulls through, though, because of course he does. he's miles, and he's your boyfriend. he'd do anything for you.

he speaks in such a kindly manner, voice low and smooth as he asks questions gently and murmurs sweet encouragements to you. he gives you your space at first, a hand rubbing your back and gauging your reaction. when your eyes flit over to his with a look he knows all too well, he's by your side in an instant and scooping you up into a bone-crushing hug (he never wants to squeeze you that hard, but when you told him that the pressure relieves your anxiety a ton, he's never stopped doing it since).

— as time goes by, miles gets amazing at handling your attacks. what used to be hours of hyperventilating and crying and trying everything to get yourself to calm down becomes short-lasting whenever miles is around. he always knows exactly what to say to comfort you, and usually that paired with loving hugs and a plethora of kisses is enough to calm you down. he'll bring you to a more secluded place and sit with you until you're feeling better (classes and spider-man duties be damned) because he knows you don't like it when people see you. he'll come up with excuses to get you out of something if need be, and they're always the strangest you've ever heard.

"...and so i said to mrs. miller, 'they're down with a bad, bad flu that'll make you throw up every five minutes and give you lice.' you should've seen the look on her face, it was hilarious," miles's absurd excuse almost makes you stop crying.

"w-what?" you sniffle. "that's not very believable, miles."

"i know! i don't know how she let me go with that one, honestly," still, he turns to you and smiles wide, his hand stroking your back coming to squeeze your shoulder. "s'okay, at least we have the rest of third period free now. maybe even fourth if she tells our next teacher about it."

— once you've come down from your attacks, miles is doting to another level. you tell him that it's not necessary, but he goes all out. he's got everything you could possibly need—snacks of all sorts piled up high, water, sodas, candies, chocolates, skincare if you want them. he'll dump you onto his sofa, practically swimming in the biggest and fluffiest blanket he could find in the house, your favorite movie playing on the tv. he's got everything laid out within arm's reach, and once that's that, he'll do the most important thing of them all—flop on top of you and engulf you. the rest of the day is spent cuddling, hugging, kissing, watching countless movies, stuffing yourselves with junk food, and more kissing.

— all in all, miles adores you. he adores you to the point he'll take care of you when and wherever, and it doesn't matter to him if you're anxious all the time. he loves you all the same and will kiss your anxiety away. ♡

© mirouie ; do not copy, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[hom3landr]

Dark Chocolate

18+

Homelander’s interest in you is evolving into a full blown crush and he’s not quite sure what to do about it.

Prev. 1 2

You’re a little less timid now, forward in an innocent way. When you see him you don’t wait. He’s grown used to you lightly tapping him on the arm or shoulder to get his attention. He likes how earnest you are. You don’t notice the nervous stares from people whenever you come up to him unprompted. That’s the curious thing about you. You’re bold when you should be scared but your nervous disposition has your heart pounding any time he starts to tease. It’s cute and it’s why he’s willing to take his time instead of pouncing every time you walk up with that sweet grin on your face.

It’s been weeks now since you brought him those cookies and while it’s not an everyday thing, he’s grown quite used to being spoiled by your talents. You ask him questions about his likes and dislikes as though you actually care. You ask for his opinions. He’s waiting for the catch, waiting for the day you reveal that your little game is just another farce.

He waits in the conference room, eyes facing the sky with his hands behind his back. He rocks slightly on his heels, feeling jittery and impatient. He’s been feeling restless lately. There are things he merely endured previously that are starting to rub him raw. He can hear your every footstep through the building as he traces your path from the entrance all the way up to 99. His stomach flutters at the ding of the elevator and he unconsciously straightens his shoulders. He deserves this today. He deserves you.

You’re humming as you approach the conference room and whatever you have for him, it’s chocolate. His mouth waters and it takes everything he has not to move, not to turn around so he can see the way your eyes light up when you see him. He hears you mutter a little yay when you see him and oh how it makes something in his chest ache. He stays still. He wants to make you work for it so you’ll have no choice but to reach for him first. When he feels the light touch of your hand on his shoulder, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

He turns and there you are, a thick folder full of paperwork stuffed awkwardly under one arm so you could tap him and hold the package at the same time. Your cheeks are warm but your eyes are warmer. You’re so fucking nice, and it makes him want to howl and bite, makes him want to dig and dig at you until you prove you’re like everyone else, makes him want to find out if your blood is just as sweet as you are. But then you smile at him and all he can think about is how it’s just the tiniest bit lopsided in a way that makes you feel more real than any of the corporate suckups that fill his day to day interactions.

You lift your arm to drop the files onto the meeting table and Homelander is genuinely surprised when they manage to stay in the folder instead of flying all over the room. You place the package on the table as well. You’re practically vibrating and he can tell that something today has you excited.

“You’re my guinea pig today!” You laugh and oh how it smarts . Because that’s not new, is it?

You open the package to reveal a slice of chocolate cake. He looks at it skeptically, previous enthusiasm dampened a bit. He feels sullen and his skin itches under his suit from the way the unassuming comment rubbed him briefly raw. A petty jab sits on his tongue as you hand him a fork. He’d have unleashed it too if you hadn’t started chattering away and distracting him.

“Since my last cake was a bit of a bust,” You shrug, “I thought I’d tweak the recipe to see if you think it improves it.”

Homelander wouldn’t have called it a bust , per se. It was probably the first thing you’ve made that he didn’t like but he personally feels that he was tactful about his feedback.

“I made it dark chocolate and I decided I’d do a whipped cream frosting this time since those don’t tend to be as sweet as a traditional buttercream…” You continue to ramble. You’re on some tangent about food science now that he can’t really be fucked to pay attention to. He’s too busy trying to handle the warmth that blooms in his chest at the thought that you listened to him. You trusted his opinions. Has anyone ever done that without him having to make them?

It makes his pants tight. He kinda wishes the cup in his suit didn’t conceal it. He wants to know how you’d react when you see what you do to him. He can almost picture the surprise on your face, how shy you’d get. He wants to hold you, feel the soft give of your body in his hands like ripe fruit. He decides that he can’t take it anymore.

You startle when he hops up to perch on the edge of the table, gesturing for you to sit next to him. You trail off on your rambling, heartbeat now all fluttery in your chest. You swallow thickly before you nod and take your place next to him. He scoots in close and presses his thigh against yours. Your breath hitches. You’ve gotten better at hiding your attraction to him, but he has ways of knowing how wet you’re getting in your panties. You do that thing he loves where you make a movement like you’re tucking your hair behind your ear, but you never actually grab any hair, so flustered by his presence that your body goes on autopilot.

“Share it with me. I’d feel awfully lonely eating by myself.” He winks before handing you the fork. You blink rapidly and gingerly take it from him. When you’re this close, your scent is overwhelming.

“I don’t have another fork.” You answer meekly and he grins.

“I did suggest we share. Unless you think I have germs.” He raises an eyebrow at you and you bite your lip, shaking your head. He expected you to get flustered but you just look at him slyly, like you’re trying to play coy with him. He feels himself twitch in his pants.

“Hmmm I dunno about germs, but you might have acid spit. I can’t be too careful.” You give a cheeky little shrug. You’re teasing him back . It feels so good to have someone not take things so fucking seriously for once. A vividly pornographic image enters his mind of exactly how he could prove to you that his spit isn’t acidic. He’d prove it to you so thoroughly that you’d be wishing he did just so he’d give your overstimulated cunt a break.

Fuck

He really was testing the limits of his cup now.

“Would make eating pussy kinda awkward, don't ya think? It would be a shame to give that up.” He answers with a casual tilt of his head. Your reaction does not disappoint. He groans under his breath at the way your scent coats his tongue. That one really got you worked up didn’t it. You stare resolutely down at the cake on the table and poke at it with the fork while you avoid his gaze.

“Yeah… I guess it would.” You reply shakily before finally helping yourself to a forkful in an attempt to regain some footing. No teasing this time, he notices with a smirk.

Once you’ve finished your bite, he takes the fork from you, taking a little too much joy in the way your arm erupts in goosebumps as his fingers brush yours. He takes a good hearty bite and groans. Whatever you did…it worked because this is delicious. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you grinning at his obvious approval. Of course, was there any question that it would be good when you were going off his feedback?

He hands the fork back to you again with a wink.

“No acid spit?” Your grin is back.

“No acid spit,” He replies and he finds himself matching your smile, something inside of him loosening.

When he was still young, the doctors would put him in a pool and cover the top. They’d watch him struggle under the water and scribble in their little notebooks. They wanted to see if he was drown-proof. Each time they made him swim, he’d have to stay under a little bit longer. They didn’t care that his lungs hurt or that the way the noise echoed under the water made him nervous. He was too young to know what was happening but they never made the effort to explain. Over time he realized that he wasn’t going to die, that he just needed to endure it and it would inevitably end. Laughing with you makes him feel like when he’d finally get to take that big breath and he knew that for the moment he was safe again.

You spend the next few minutes, passing the fork back and forth. There is something so intimate to him about knowing what you taste like, like he’s already kissed you for the first time. The warmth of your thigh against his is soothing and for the first time in weeks…months… years, that neediness inside quiets for a moment.

“Is there coffee in this?” He asks, if only because he feels ill equipped in situations like this, unsure of how to read the silence. You perk up a bit, always eager to explain how things work.

“Yeah! Can you taste it? It’s pretty much a must when you’re making chocolate cakes because it makes the flavor so much richer.” You explain, and he can tell from your eyes that you’re a few seconds away from launching into a full on chemical breakdown of the recipe so he gently guides you away.

“I smelled it while you were on the way down. I thought that you’d maybe stopped at a coffee shop.” He knows you didn’t. He knew every moment you made the second you walked in the building, but he’s trying to make conversation.

“Cool!” You exclaim and it’s fucking ridiculous how genuinely earnest you are about it. What’s more ridiculous is how pleased he is that you find him cool. He knows when you leave he’ll wince at how pathetic he is, but when you’re here, it seems like such a pointless thing to worry about.

“And what do I smell like? Please tell me I don’t stink!” you ask curiously, biting your lip to hide a smile. He huffs a little laugh. You’re too cute and the twisted part of him wants to push and tease. He wants to tell you that you smell like brown sugar and pussy. That his mouth waters when you walk into the room and that the only thing keeping him from laying you on the table and feasting right now is that… Well, he doesn’t actually have a good reason for why he’s not eating you out the way you both deserve.

He doesn’t even get the chance to answer because before he can, you lick your thumb and wordlessly wipe away a smudge of icing from the corner of his mouth. The ease of motion gives away that it was an instinctual movement, not hindered by fear or anxiety. You tenderly make sure his face is clean before withdrawing again. Homelander’s heart is beating so loudly in his ears that it’s almost affecting his hearing. Where before he felt safe, now he feels raw and exposed. His neediness has woken up again, screaming and snarling for more. He wants. Oh how he wants.

He doesn’t want to think about the last time he exposed himself, let someone touch him skin to skin. He doesn’t want to think about how the stench of her fear made him nauseous, how the sweet scent of her burning flesh still lingers in his nose. He felt how she trembled as he kissed her lips, her forehead. He can hear the sizzle and all of a sudden he can’t stomach another bite. The beast inside him wails for him to take and consume , strip mine you for what he needs and then toss you out, before you think you have the right to take from him in return.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, worried by the way his expression has gone blank. “I should have asked first. You had some crumbs on your face.”

You’re so fucking nice and it’s almost your downfall.

Almost

You’re saved by the fact that he notices that the rest of The Seven should already be making their way to the conference room. He can’t exactly get away with much when there is an audience. He’s grateful for it, because it means that your safety is out of his hands. You’ve unknowingly just had a noose removed from around your neck, all because you forgot that even a docile lion is still a carnivore. Your shoulders slump when he stands up, feeling silly and abandoned as you sit perched on the ledge like a child.

“It’s almost time for the meeting. Better get to work before you get chastised for slacking off.” He says sternly, as if he wasn’t the one to invite you to eat with him in the first place. He needs you back in your box where you’re just the shy PA who brings him sweets, someone he can easily dismiss. He’s learned his lesson about giving parts of himself away just for the attention of some stupid human. You aren’t even special, just a nobody who runs errands. He doesn’t need you. In fact, next thing you bring him he’ll spit out, to teach you a lesson about thinking you’re anywhere on his level.

He pointedly resumes the position he was in when you first entered, hands behind his back as he stares at the sky. There’s a few moments of silence before he hears you slowly hop off the desk and start arranging the files. The task itself only takes a few minutes, and you will most definitely be gone by the time anyone makes it. He expects you to leave without a word, his silent chastisement more cruel than anything he could say. But you surprise him again.

“Thanks for helping me with the recipe! I’ll have something new for you on Monday. Also, don’t forget, I still want to know what I smell like!” He hears you call out to him from the doorway. He resists the urge to look back at you. There is a slight nervousness to your positivity but the fact that you’re even trying despite the obvious rebuke makes you braver than most everyone else in the building. He can admire that. It makes him want to throw you a bone.

“Brown sugar,” He calls back, “since you’re always fucking baking”

Before you leave, he catches your reflection in the window despite promising himself he wouldn’t look, and you smile so fucking happily at his reply, that any progress he’s made goes straight down the drain. A fond grin of his own causes his eyes to crinkle, as he gives an exasperated sigh.

You’re going to be a big problem…aren’t you?

——————

You know you shouldn’t feel as giddy as you do. You sniff your arm, feeling stupid but wanting to know if you really do smell like brown sugar. The most important thing is that you didn’t ruin your friendship with him. You can tell he needs a friend. Sitting with him today made you realize, he’s absolutely nothing like the picture-perfect hero that Vought advertises, but he’s not a heartless monster either. He’s a constantly shifting kaleidoscope of manufactured facets and raw human emotion, bubbling under the surface like a hot spring and just as likely to singe your hand if you touch.

You’re glad he tolerates you, even if it’s just for the free dessert.

[megafaunatic]

I have intended to start Terry Pratchett's books, but I haven't yet. I know this is controversial, but where is your favorite place to start?

OOOH GOOD QUESTION... it definitely depends on your interests! i'm sure you've seen this graphic, or something similar:

for me, my route into discworld was 1. having read THE AMAZING MAURICE AND HIS EDUCATED RODENTS as a child (and again later) and 2. reading GOOD OMENS as a teen (and again later). GO obviously isn't a discworld book per se, but a discworldly Death makes an appearance there as well as in AMAZING MAURICE, and i 🕺 have a crush on discworld death LOL i think he's so dreamy 💀✨

so i read those two and then in college i read THE COLOUR OF MAGIC - this is the first discworld book pratchett wrote, and he always recommended that you NOT start there, but it was available from the library lol - and then the following year i had an extremely long summer where death felt extremely close and (related) i had no job and was going crazy. so i read all the Death-centric books.

right now i'm working my way through the watch books, and also i read WYRD SISTERS the other day bc i was waiting for the next watch book on libby, and i read MONSTROUS REGIMENT also bc it was available on libby. LOL

i'm on SNUFF right now, so almost at the end of the watch books! i haven't decided yet whether i want to keep reading the witches books next since i started that sequence already, or if i want to skip over to the industrial revolution books since they seem more closely related to the watch books...

ANYWAY THE UPSHOT IS my tried and true strat is to identify main characters you think you're going to have a crush on. and go from there LMAO

but also could be useful identifying some themes you'd be interested in reading about! having only read from some of the sequences, i'll say my take is:

the rincewind (unseen university) novels are going to be about magic, bureaucracy, cowardice, and fate

the watch novels are going to be about class; injustice; big problems vs small problems; war and the construction of statehood; race and gender

the witches novels are going to be about magic, fate, and gender (SORRY I KNOW THERES MORE IVE JSUT ONLY READ THE ONE)

the death novels are going to be about responsibility, childhood and senescence, and joy

ummmmm thats oll... don't know much about the ancient civilizations books...

the good news is there's really no wrong answer! even the worst ones are still really enjoyable imo

[wintaerbaer]

things we don't say: the before, drabble 1 (kth)

summary: After a night of drinking, you make some comments to Taehyung that makes him reconsider his relationship with you.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader

rating: sfw (for the drabble, series is 18+)

genres: best friends to lovers, fluff, angst

word count: 2.9k

warnings: alcohol use, unrequited love, jungkook isn't physically present in this one yet still manages to throw in some nonsense

a/n: this is the first drabble for my things we don't say series! shoutout to @btsborahaee for asking me if tae had ever taken care of oc while drunk and sparking this entire idea. not mandatory reading for the series per se, but definitely gives a lot of insight for some upcoming events <3 (can probably be read on its own for new folks, but you'll likely be missing some context)

SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST

He probably should’ve stopped you.

Should’ve stopped you when Jimin offered you tequila shots at the beginning of the night (he knows that you always complain about the crash).

Should’ve stopped you when Jungkook challenged you to a round of beer pong and you surprisingly agreed (Jungkook is an ace, and you’ve always been a lousy shot).

Definitely should’ve stopped you when your friends began a game of truth or dare, and you convinced him to play with puppy dog eyes and a pouty lower lip (you looked so cute that he pretended he would’ve been able to resist you in the first place just to see you keep making that face).

Still, he tries to remind himself that you’re a grown woman and can make your own decisions as he heaves you through the doorway into the three-bedroom apartment the two of you share with Jimin.

“Congratulations, you’ve successfully made it home,” he says, gingerly helping you settle into a spot on the couch. You immediately pull a throw pillow into your lap and hug it tight, slumping against the arm rest. “How are you feeling?”

“We live in a pool now,” you mumble, the pillow muffling your voice.

“What?”

“Everything swimming.”

He laughs, propping the other throw pillow against your side in a feeble attempt to ensure you stay upright before he heads to the kitchen to get you some water. “I know you may not believe me right now, but I can assure you we don’t live in a pool.”

“You can’t prove anything.” Your face has slipped further into the pillow. “I’m a scientist. I know things.”

“You’re majoring in Communications.”

“That’s a science.”

“A social science.”

“I say it counts, so it counts.”

“Well I won’t argue with that.” He makes his way back to you with quiet steps, crouching down so he’s at your eye level. “So, Miss Scientist--” A glass of water appears right in front of your nose. “—what does the science say about water intake after a long night of drinking?”

You giggle, pulling the glass from his hands so you can peer through it at him. “See? Pool.” He can’t hold back the grin that spreads across his face as he watches you snort-laugh over your own joke and cackle, “You’re a merman.”

“Yah,” he protests. “I don’t know that I’m pretty enough to be a merman. Mermen are pretty, yeah?”

And even louder snort. “Tae, you’re plenty pretty.”

His heart rebels with the tiniest pause. “Huh?”

“Plenty pretty. Also alliterative.” You burst out laughing at that one, rocking your body so suddenly that Taehyung worries you might spill your water. He reaches out to stabilize your hand, crushing down the teensy marble of hope that just plopped into his chest—a process that he’s well used to by now.

“You’re not seeing right or thinking right,” he says. “Just focus on drinking your water.”

One final giggle as you bring the glass to your lips, slurping loudly. “Chef Kim, you’ve done it again!” you declare, putting on a fake accent. “This is the finest glass of water I have ever had the pleasure of drinking! Three Michelin Stars!” Then you go back to slurping the water, two hands wrapped around the glass like a child.

Taehyung watches you tenderly, his right hand betraying him and drifting upwards to lightly skim your knee as you drink. Frankly, he’s just pleased that you’re managing to get it all in your mouth, and once you’ve swallowed the last drops (your head tilted all the way back), you gaze at him with hooded eyes.

“I sleepy.”

“I’m sure you are.” He takes the glass from your hands and sets it down on the coffee table before moving the pillows from your lap so he can help you up again, placing a steadying hand at your lower back. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He leads you to your bedroom where you immediately face plant onto the bed with a huff.

“Careful,” he warns. “Don’t want to jolt yourself and make yourself sick.”

“I do not fear vomit,” you say dramatically. “Only when it’s a stranger’s.” You pause to burp. “And only on Sundays.”

“Today is Sunday.”

You flip onto your back with a gasp. “SAY IT ISN’T SO.”

“It’s so.” He nods at you somberly, playing into the bit. “It’s past midnight, which means it is, in fact, Sunday.”

An arm is thrown across your eyes as you groan, "Oh noooooooo."

Taehyung chuckles to himself, rummaging through your dresser until he locates a pair of sleep shorts and a drawer full of t-shirts (he quickly closes another drawer when he catches a glimpse of panties). He picks through them, grinning at how many are souvenirs of events you've been to with him—concerts, festivals, and even a team shirt for a basketball game you'd accompanied him to freshman year. It'd been his idea, wanting to experience more of the city you'd moved to for school; you'd been skeptical at first but willing to go with him so he wasn't alone.

Two minutes in and your enthusiasm had quickly changed. Feeding off the energy of the crowd and the excitement of the game, you spent most of the time on your feet, bouncing up and down and cheering with every basket that was made. And though the game had been his idea, Taehyung found himself far less interested in what was happening on the court and instead spent the evening watching you, smiling from ear-to-ear every time you clapped your hands or yelled in delight. You’d pulled him by the hand to the team store afterwards, insistent on buying a shirt for your newfound team.

He grabs that shirt from the drawer and turns to find you lying in the same position on the bed, still as a stone. Your chest rises and falls with slow steady breaths, and he thinks you’ve fallen asleep at first until you peek an eye out at him as he sets the clothes down next to you on the bed.

“Think you can get dressed by yourself?”

You raise yourself onto your palms, throwing him what seems to be your best drunken attempt at a sultry look. “You don’t want to help me?”

Taehyung’s body goes into an instant panic, half of his blood rushing to his face and the other half seeking a straight path south. “You—I—uh—“ he stammers before you burst into hysterical laughter.

“I’m kidding!” you gasp, wrapping your arms around your middle and tilting sideways on the bed as you’re overcome with giggles. “You should see the look on your face!”

He feels the relief work through slowly, even as his heart continues to pound. “You really had a lot to drink tonight, huh?”

“Hmm, a lot,” you hiccup. “Not so much that I missed your look of horror when Kook dared us to kiss.”

It was during the game of truth or dare that you’d roped him into. Rather juvenile for a group of third-year college students, perhaps, but your group had gotten to the point of mindless drunken entertainment. On your turn, you’d asked for a dare, only for Jungkook to challenge you to make out with Taehyung for thirty seconds (“Minimum,” he’d added with a wiggle of his eyebrows). His blood pressure had spiked then too as he glared daggers at Jungkook, praying that you would refuse. It wasn’t that he was opposed to the concept of kissing you per se, but definitely not under those circumstances. And definitely not when you didn’t feel that way about him.

He was flooded with relief when you opted to take a shot instead.

“You looked terrified so I drank,” you say in the present, pushing out your lower lip in a pout. “Would kissing me really have been that bad?”

Yes, he thinks. But for reasons you wouldn’t understand. I wouldn’t have survived it.

“Kook was just messing with us. It was a stupid joke, and you knew it. That’s why you drank.”

“I drank because you looked angry,” you press, and Taehyung worries that you’re genuinely hurt by the implied rejection. But that would mean— “We could kiss, and it would be fine. Here, look.” You sit up straight again, closing your eyes and puckering your lips in his direction.

Heat rushes to his face for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “What are you doing?”

“Kiss me.”

He’s shaking his head immediately. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Y/N.” He laughs gently at your pouting face, lifting the clothes again so he can drop them into your lap this time. “I’m not going to kiss you when you’re drunk. Like I said, you’re not thinking right. I wouldn’t do that.” He taps your chin, directing your attention down. “Get yourself dressed. I’ll find you a bucket and more water.”

You grumble something he doesn’t understand on his way out of your room, still a little flustered from your conversation. It wasn’t like you to flirt with him. And suggesting he kiss you? No. That definitely must’ve been the alcohol talking. Over a decade’s worth of friendship with you, and it’s never seemed like you’ve even entertained the thought.

Still, he thinks to himself as he grabs you another glass of water before making a stop to the bathroom, could it be that drunk words are sober thoughts? Could this be his sign to try and see if there may be something more lingering under the surface of your friendsh—

He crushes down the idea as it occurs. He’s been through this line of thought before and, as always, knows that no good can come of it. There’s no doubt in his mind that you don’t feel for him like that. And he’ll be damned if he burdens you with his own feelings. It’s his own problem; he’s not going to put that on you to solve.

He retrieves a small pail, make-up wipe, and bottle of painkillers from the bathroom before making his way back to your bedroom. Not only have you changed into your pajamas, but you’ve also crawled into bed, the blanket pulled over your head with you huddled beneath it in a heap.

Taehyung sets down the water and medicine on your side table and places the pail on the floor beside your bed. Nudging at the covers, he says, “Poke your head out. We gotta get your makeup off.”

You roll onto your back, sticking your head out with a groan. “It’s fiiiiine,” you whine. “Jus’ leave it.”

“Your eyes will get irritated. I’ve got it.”

He wipes delicately at your face, a caress hidden in every sweep of his fingers. And once your skin has been wiped clean, he tucks you in properly, curled up on your side so he doesn’t need to worry about you rolling onto your back.

“There’s water and medicine here” he tells you. “And a bucket on the floor in case you need to throw up. Do you need anything else right now?”

“No,” you sigh.

“Okay, if you need anything at all just shout. I’ll leave my door open.”

He’s turning to leave, thinking that’s the end of it when your voice calls out. Tiny.

“Tae?”

His focus is back on you in an instant, crouching down at your side ready to help. “What’s up?”

Your eyes are closed and you hum dreamily, fingers on the bed curling towards him. “You take such good care of me.”

Something wraps around his heart, squeezes. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Mmmm.” You’re halfway asleep, breaths evening out. “You’ll be an incredible dad someday.”

His whole world stops, your words rocking him to his core. Because how do you just lay that on him so suddenly? So casually? One of his greatest fears and insecurities, eased instantly by the sound of your reassurances.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, tears stinging his eyes. But you’re already out, blissfully unaware of the effect you’ve just had on him.

He can’t help but watch you for a few minutes, gaze studiously tracing over your face like he may need to one day draw you from memory. You look so beautiful, so peaceful—every bit the angel he forever sees you as. Unable to help himself, he raises his hand to gently stroke a finger one, two, three times through your hair before tucking it back behind your ear. And something may just have grabbed ahold of him tonight because before he stands back up, he leans in to press the softest kiss to your forehead, lips lingering against your skin until he forces himself to pull away.

He leaves the room quietly, with one last peek over his shoulder at your sleeping form. Crossing the hall, he begins settling into his own bed wrangling a hurricane of thoughts: you, him, how he feels about you, the years you’ve spent together and how he desperately wants them to continue. And, with everything you’ve said tonight, he thinks that maybe—maybe—there wouldn’t be harm in testing the waters to see if you might want something more too. Throw a bit of that flirtatiousness back at you and see what happens.

He falls asleep smiling. Tomorrow is a new day.

The sound of chatter rouses Taehyung from his sleep the next morning as does the smell of bacon. He sits up, groggily runs a hand through his hair, and pads down the hall to find you, Jimin, and Maya sat around the dining room table.

“Oh yay, you’re alive,” Maya teases.

He gives her a quick raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgement. “So it would seem. Why are you here?”

“Alright, going to pretend that was way more enthusiastic and ignore the tone,” she responds, leaning back in her chair. “We’re supposed to go down to the park to work on that project for Dr. Kwon’s class, remember?”

“Ah shit, that’s today.” He rubs a hand over his face, trying to wipe away more sleep. “Ok, let me eat and get dressed, and we can go.”

There's a crash in the kitchen, and Jimin, standing at the stove, calls out, "Uhhhh a little help?"

Maya rolls her eyes and stands to assist. "See, this is why we usually leave cooking to the professionals."

Taehyung laughs at their antics. Never a dull moment in this apartment. "Didn't feel like cooking this morning?" he asks, settling into the chair next to you.

You shake your head as you take a sip from the coffee mug in front of you. "No, Jimin wanted to do it. Said he wants to practice so he can impress that girl he's been seeing."

"Ah." He studies your face, suddenly remembering the way you'd asked him to kiss you last night.

"What?"

Your voice startles him out of the memory. "What?"

"You're looking at me funny," you say and take a swipe at one of your cheeks. "Something on my face?"

He's suddenly nervous, second-guessing his plan to test the waters with you. "No. Just wondering how you're feeling. You were...very drunk last night."

You blush. "Yeah, I don't remember much after I took that last shot, and you said it was time to go home." Scratching absent-mindedly behind your ear, you say, "I hope I didn't say anything too embarrassing after that."

"No, you were fine," Taehyung says, before quickly rethinking his words. It seems like it's now or never. "Actually, there were a couple things you said that I wanted to ask about."

"Oh no." Your eyes widen. "What'd I do?"

"Nothing bad," he chuckles. "Just that—"

Your phone chimes loudly, and your gaze shoots to it, immediately snatching it into your hand as Maya bolts back over and squeals, “Is that him?!”

“Yes!” you exclaim, eyes roaming across the screen excitedly.

Taehyung licks his lips, caught entirely off-guard by this development. “Who is this?”

“Jace from my Marketing Psych class,” you say quickly, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“He asked her out this morning!” Maya adds with a pointed look at Taehyung that he doesn’t know how to interpret. His stomach twists, chest burns as every hope he’d had of asking you about last night dies on his tongue.

“Okay,” you say, looking up at Maya, completely oblivious to the suffering happening on your right. “Friday at that fancy Italian place on Fifth.” You slap a hand to your forehead. “We need to go shopping!”

“Of course we will!” Maya trills just as you turn back to Taehyung looking mildly apologetic.

“Sorry, Tae. You were saying something?”

He licks his lips again, internally cringing at the bitter taste. “No,” he says. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Your brow creases. “You can always ask me anything.”

“It’s really nothing,” he insists. “I already forgot what it was.”

You’re clearly not convinced but you relent, giving a tiny, “Okay,” as you watch him stand from the table, eyes now directed at Maya.

“Just give me five minutes to get dressed and grab my stuff, and we can go.”

“But you didn’t even eat,” you say.

He glances at you from under his lashes as he backpedals towards his bedroom, heart in his throat. “I’m not hungry.”

It’s a sign from the universe, he thinks. A final killing blow to the hopes that have long lingered inside of him. And at this point, it’s best he accepts it.

You’re just not meant to be.

a/n: part 5 is my next focus, i promise <33 and if anyone would be interested in an ask game, pls let me know! it might help the gears turn faster :)

[hbyrde36]

STWG Prompt 12/24/2023 Missed Mistletoe 🎄

Merry Christmas Eve! Please ignore any typos or grammar errors and whatever else, I would have reviewed and edited more but it's time to prepare for my own celebrations!!

Christmas Eve, 1989.

Today was the day. 

After nearly three years of pining after Eddie, Steve was finally going to do something about it. Though, to be fair there were a lot of reasons he had hesitated to take action before now. 

In the months after Vecna and the Upside Down, Steve and Eddie grew close. It was bound to happen, trauma bonding and all that, and it didn’t hurt that Eddie and his Uncle spent a few weeks staying in Steve’s guest room while Eddie recovered from his injuries and he and his uncle looked for a new place to live. 

When the two of them did finally move out, Steve found that his house felt even more empty than it had before. He spent a little time feeling depressed and a little lonely about it, and trying to hide it from everyone as best he could, but of course Eddie noticed anyway. He began to show up at Steve’s house unannounced, coming over any time he felt like it. Steve would often come home from work to find Eddie already there curled up on the couch waiting for him. It was nice. 

Nicer were the nights they spent at Eddie’s own home, a small two bedroom house not far from the Byers old place. He, Eddie, and Wayne would have dinner together and talk about their days, and Steve would find himself wishing he could have this all the time, especially when he and Eddie would crash together on the other boy’s full size bed. It was big enough to hold them both, but small enough that they had to cuddle a bit to make sure neither of them fell off as they slept, which quickly became Steve's favorite part of nights at Eddie’s.

-

1987 saw Steve privately coming to grips with the fact that he was not as straight as he had previously thought, and had developed a debilitating crush on Eddie, using the term private loosely of course, because Robin was with him, supporting him every step of the way. 

The following year he and Eddie continued to grow closer, to the detriment of Steve’s sanity.

Best friends for all intents and purposes, though they never used that phrase out loud to describe each other, lest Dustin catch wind of it. He was already appalled at the amount of time they spent together without him. Obviously the kid knew it was possible to have more than one best friend, himself having several, but it was still a fight Steve had no interest in listening to. 

‘88 was also the year that Eddie came out to him, as well as the rest of the party. Steve was elated to find out that he might actually have a chance with his crush, but nervous since just because Eddie liked boys didn’t mean he would be interested in Steve that way. 

But, Steve never got a chance to confess his feelings. 

It turned out that the reason Eddie had finally come out was because he wanted to introduce them all, and Steve in particular, to his new boyfriend. They were (best) friends after all, and he wanted Steve’s opinion. 

Mark.

There was nothing wrong with the guy, per se. He treated Eddie well and they had the same taste in movies and music. It was more than he and Steve had in common. Mark seemed to make Eddie happy, and that was all that really mattered. 

So, as heartbroken as he was about it, Steve gave his stamp of approval and spent the next 6 months in agony. Their sleepovers came to an end, and dinners with Eddie and Wayne became fewer and far between. It wasn’t Eddie’s doing, in fact he confronted Steve about it a few times, hurt that they were spending less and less time together. He couldn’t tell Eddie the truth, that he was pulling away to save his own heart, so he just said he was busy, and besides, he didn’t want to take away from Eddie’s time with his boyfriend. 

-

Then, Eddie and Mark broke up. Steve would have felt worse about how happy he was to hear that news, but Eddie didn’t seem overly broken up about it. He’d even told Steve that while he was a little sad that things didn’t work out, it was for the best, though he never really explained why, and the two of them fell back into old habits in no time. 

That had been a few months ago, and Steve finally felt like the time was right to tell Eddie how he felt, he just wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it. 

The idea came to him a few weeks before Christmas, when he and Robin were putting up decorations around Family Video, desperately trying to bring a little festive cheer to the place. He spotted a sprig of artificial mistletoe mixed in with tinsel and garland in a box and instantly came up with the perfect plan. 

He would hang it above the door to the break room, and the next time Eddie came in to bug him on his lunch break he would make sure they walked through that doorway together. It was a foolproof way to find out the truth. If Eddie kissed him, he’d know his feelings were returned, and if Eddie made a joke about it, then he’d know it wasn’t meant to be. 

Except when Eddie did finally come in, he didn’t even seem to notice the mistletoe hanging there. He completely missed it! Steve knew he could have pointed it out but he lost his nerve, and somehow it felt like cheating. They still had a nice time hanging out that day, his breaks were always more fun when Eddie stopped by, and he figured he’d get another chance. There was still a week and a half to go until Christmas. 

But, Eddie continued to be frustratingly oblivious every time he entered the video store. 

Steve tried everything, well, everything except using his words.

He moved the plastic mockery of mistletoe all around the store. Tried hanging it from the alcove that separated the kids section from the rest of the movies, and then the spot above the cash register where the little door opened to let them get behind the desk. He even hung it next to the bell above the front door a few times, which would admittedly be an ill-advised location for a same-sex kiss in a town like Hawkins, but Steve was beginning to get desperate. 

Each time Eddie visited Steve made sure they walked together under wherever he had placed the godforsaken plant that day, and each time Eddie refused to look up. At a certain point Steve began to think that maybe he was ignoring it on purpose, but in his defense Eddie had been acting a little distracted lately.

Before Steve knew it, Christmas eve had rolled around and his window for getting Eddie to kiss him under the mistletoe was rapidly closing. He was hosting the entire crew at his house for a little party and asked Eddie to come along early to help set up. 

He was taking no chances this time, forgoing the artificial Mistletoe for the real thing, he hung a fresh sprig of the plant from every single doorway and transitional space in the house. He was pretty sure there wasn’t a single piece of the stuff left in the entire county that he hadn’t bought, and if his plan worked, it would have been more than worth it. 

He jumped when the doorbell rang a half past 4. He wasn’t expecting anyone else to arrive this early, and Eddie hadn't used the doorbell at his house in years. He glanced through the peephole and sure enough it was Eddie, standing awkwardly on the front porch. He looked the same way Steve felt, nervous.  

Steve took a deep breath and opened the door slowly, palms immediately gone sweaty when he took in Eddie’s full appearance. He was wearing his nicest jeans, the only pair he owned without any rips in them and what had to be, hands down, the ugliest Christmas sweater Steve had ever seen. It was incredible, he loved it, even more for the fact that he knew Eddie had only worn it for him, to be festive for his party. 

He opened his mouth to tease the other boy for it but felt all the breath get sucked out of his lungs when Eddie stepped in close, bringing them nearly chest to chest and gave a shy tentative smile. 

He had one hand hidden behind his back, something Steve hadn’t noticed at first, but did now as Eddie raised his arm up high above their heads and dangling from his fingers was a small bundle of mistletoe tied together with a bright red ribbon. 

Steve froze, staring at Eddie in shock. 

He must have hesitated for a second too long. Eddie’s smile fell, face crumpling a bit as his arm began to drop. Steve snapped himself out of it and reached up to grasp Eddie’s wrist gently, holding the plant where it was as he finally closed the distance between them to crash their lips together. 

It was Eddie’s turn to freeze, but only for a second. He recovered quickly, melting into the kiss as he wound his free arm around Steve’s waist, tugging him in close. 

When they finally separated Eddie sighed happily, he let the mistletoe drop and as they lowered their hands Steve slid his palm into Eddie’s, fingers entwined. 

Eddie rested his forehead against Steves, a wide grin spreading over his face as he spoke. “Wow, that went about as well as I could have hoped for. I’ve wanted to do that for so long, Stevie, you have no idea. I just didn’t know if you could ever be interested in me like that.” 

And Steve couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.

He laughed so hard he doubled over, completely hysterical and out of breath, and only managed to stop when a look of hurt crossed over Eddie’s face. 

He leaned in and pressed another quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek and squeezed his hand. 

“I swear I'm not laughing at you, Eds. It’s just… “ He giggled again, unable to contain himself. “Come inside and I'll show you.” 

Eddie quirked his eyebrow curiously but let himself be led inside.

Steve walked them over hand and hand to the doorway between the living room and the kitchen looking up pointedly until Eddie followed his gaze, eyes growing wide as he spotted the mistletoe hanging there. 

“Steve, what…?”

He cut off Eddie’s question with a quick kiss before dragging him off to the entrance of the dining room where another bit of green hung above their heads. Another quick touch of lips and off they went to the next doorway, and then the next, and the next, and the next.

After a full tour the two boys collapsed on the couch in a fresh fit of giggles. “I can’t believe you did all this!” Eddie said.

“I’ll admit it might have been a little over the top, but this was my hail mary attempt. I’ve been trying to get you to kiss me under the mistletoe for weeks! I can’t believe you beat me to it, and on your first try!” 

Eddie blanched. “Wait, what?!!”