#I love this au so thank you for bringing it up

[redwinelew]

Chat, i would like to request for Lewis smau. Where reader is unhinged and being horny on mains. Like no filter comments and thirst over him. Crack and smutty. Xoxo

FANTASIZE

type social media au

pairing lewis hamilton x reader

summary as requested!

face claim none but 99% of my lewis smaus use black women as face claims

song fantasize by ariana grande

warnings 18+. extremely suggestives

author's note i put my entire (horny) soul into this fic sjshsjk thank u sm for submitting this pookie i hope i did it justice 🫡🫡

english is not my first language. all pictures taken from instagram, pinterest and twitter. credit to owners.

masterlist | request info | requests are OPEN!

TWITTER!

INSTAGRAM!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, jade_distinguinn and 76,528 others.

ynln every time i hear his name or voice the sound waves travel to my primary auditory cortex—notifying my eggs that its time to be fertilized

tagged lewishamilton

view all 3,829 comments

user1 GIRL 😭😭

user2 yeah she's ovulating

ynln user2 negative i'm always this horny for my man 😔☝🏽

user3 SHE EVEN TAGGED HIM 😭😭

user4 user3 she wants that cookie so effing bad

user5 girl on MAIN??????

ynln user5 everybody needs to know how hot he is

user5 ynln i think they got the note can u pls stop 😭🙏🏻

ynln user5 never

lando I just opened this app...

ynln lando you are welcome landinho

user6 #needthat

ynln user6 same

charles_leclerc MY EYES

ynln charles_leclerc nobody asked you to look, charlie 🙄🙄

user7 wishing i was living y/n's life rn

ynln user7 💅🏽

liked by tatemcrae, millyalcock and 85,736 others.

ynln the bouncing i would do would be so powerful it would cause the san andreas fault to slip and trigger yellowstone eruption. millions would perish and i would only bounce harder

tagged lewishamilton

view all 4,626 comments

user1 AGAIN????

user2 GIRL STAND UP??????

user3 nurse she's out again

user4 i love how horny she is for lewis

user4 user4 i mean i'd be the same if i was married to him

oscarpiastri I wish I couldn't read

user5 oscarpiastri poor oscar 😭😭

user6 i KNOW ferrari pr team is tired of her 😭😭

user7 she has absolutely no filter when it comes to her man and i just love it

user8 lewis didn't bring y/n to a race #1 (ONCE) and she's losing her mind already

ynln user8 it's okay i shall be waiting for him back home with open arms.... and open legs...... and open mouth—

liked by ynln, brocedesfan1 and 2,628 others.

bestoflewishamilton sir lewis hamilton at rimowa event in seoul, south korea (16 april 2024)

tagged lewishamilton

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user1 he had a different type of glow during this event i can't explain it

ynln user1 would you like to know what is was

user1 ynln knowing you...... no thanks 😀😀

ynln it's pulsing his name in morse code

user2 ynln of course y/n is already here first

user3 ynln the way her captions and posts don't surprise me anymore 😭😭

liked by fencer, isackhadjar and 88,638 others

scuderiaferrari No thoughts head empty just lewishamilton ❤️

view all 12,528 comments

user1 next year is our year guys (i'm delusional)

user2 maybe you guys should spare some of those thoughts on strategy for the next race 😄😄😄😄

ynln he can cause a nuclear reaction inside me and i'd still ride

user3 ynln UNDER FERRARI'S POST??????

user4 ynln she's unstoppable atp

user5 ynln the way she doesn't gaf anymore 😭😭

scuderiaferrari ynln Please I don't want to lose my job

user6 scuderiaferrari poor admin omg 😭😭

ynln scuderiaferrari i take full responsibility of my digital footprint as long as you guys don't block me

BONUS!

[hivemuthur]

To Be Known - Ch.1.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! Modern AU, set in London, current era but not very specific. Uncharted waters for me, because I have no idea how many chapters it will come out as.

Reader is: British, Young Vic (get it?) theatre company director, working class, in her 30s, a control freak, a semi-conscious sub. Viktor is: Czech (as always), working in biotech with Jayce, working class, in his 30s, a control freak, a conscious dom.

next chapter -> (will be here once published)

word count: 4,6K

warnings, or rather this work contains: d/s dynamics between main characters (but who the fuck knows what Mel and Jayce are doing), love (attraction?) at first sight, no strings attached to lovers/strangers to lovers (so like reverse emotional slow burn?), lots of porn, angst, happy resolution. I will be adding kink warnings as they appear in the future chapters.

author’s note: Ok, so, um, hi! A Deer and a Man is ending, so something else has to begin. It’s like… a very freeform thing I’m doing here. Sort of about nothing, just relationships with d/s dynamics, because I want to play around with some kinks and stuff. I’m trying to make it make sense here, but not everything might, since it’s just my subjective take on things. It will have some d/s etiquette but not always, because I’m clumsy and my characters get infected with my clumsiness :v Nothing’s new really (hehe, get it?), some plot, some porn, some feelings. It’s basically me going to IKEA asking you if you wanna come and grab some vegan meatballs and the meatballs are smut in this :v So yeh, hi, welcome to another blurb of a mutlichap work.

Special thanks to my friends @rennethen and @strongfartzemergency for pre-reading this and enabling my brainrot. Artist is @petitesieste, just ahh ♡

Cross-posted on AO3

—

Your eyes glaze over the computer screen, trying to memorize a list of poor souls to probe the next day. An ouroboros of theatre life has reached another mark, one where you must make a million decisions in a short span of time: Which plays will grace the stage, who’s performing in them, who’s directing, and who’s dressing all those people in their fancy costumes? And, most importantly, who’s paying for all of it?

So far, a successful year has set your bar even higher, with the next season looming in the golden light of August evenings. You don’t even have time to warm your bones in it—you have to think ahead, transport your brain to the future, to a cold January, when the real test begins for you. In truth, you don’t have time to do anything beneficial for your bones, and you’ve just learned to accept that your joints crack like dry wood every time you move.

A head peaks through the crack in your door, and you don’t have to look up to know who it is.

“Charlie,” you greet him, your nose still scrunched up by the screen. “I know, I know. I’m going, I just need a second.” You begin to rise from your chair but remain hunched over, extending your arm blindly toward the computer. “Did you bring my shoes?”

“Yes, and I’m not kicking you out,” says Charlie, passing you a pair of ballet flats. “But if you want a driver, well… he’s getting impatient.”

“That’s okay, I can commute,” you smile at him, taking the shoes and glancing at your watch. “It’s only Camden… oh, shit, it’s very late. You should, in fact, kick me out.” After a few hurried jumps while putting the shoes on, you're back to frantically picking up unrelated objects and shoving them into your purse: tissues, lipstick, random notes to review in the morning, and Mel’s gift—a seasonal Young Vic pass for her and her plus one.

“Where are you guys meeting?” he asks, passing you the rest of the things you will obviously want or need. It’s a seamless collaboration with Charlie. Since the very beginning, you two have been sharing a brain, and this is partly why nothing has collapsed yet. On the contrary—both you, as a theatre company director, and Charlie, as an assistant director, have been doing an amazing job, mending together a forthcoming approach and love for theatre. And this is all your head is at, despite the one evening of reprieve where you can share beers with friends in a pub that Mel has chosen completely out of character for herself. Which is why, instead of answering, you ask, “Do you really think we can do Hamlet?”

“Why wouldn’t we be able to do Hamlet?” Charlie parrots, passing you a coat with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know, is it not a bit… on the nose? It’s my second year, and my brain’s steamed up so much that I’m doing Hamlet?”

Charlie chuckles softly, as he steps behind you to dress you up. “You are going to do a bitchin’ Hamlet. And now can you please go and have some fun for once?”

“This is fun, Charlie. Hamlet is fun,” you say, holding his arms and giving him a playful shake. “Fun!”

“Calm down, captain,” he grins, rolling his eyes. “Where are you guys going?”

“Ugh… World’s End?”

“World’s End?!” Charlie covers his mouth in feigned horror, his eyes wide. “This is so unlike Miss Medarda!” he whispers, shooting you an incredulous look.

“I know, Mel wanted casual,” you shrug, rolling your eyes. Then, as you move past him, you swat him lightly on the shoulder, seeking another round of uninhibited cackles. “Don’t be mean, Charlie!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Charlie laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Ah, World’s fucking End, who would’ve thought. Let me fetch you a driver, my lady.”

You shake your head and scan your office one last time, making sure you haven’t left anything important behind. Figuratively, of course, since almost everything dear to your heart is actually being left behind. And even though it’s only for a couple of hours, not being in control is frightening.

On the other side of the coin are your friends, with Mel right up front. She’s been there since the very first second of your meeting—right after you yelled at a light technician, making him flinch and nearly fall off the ladder. You had immediately corrected yourself with, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted. But this lightwork is still shit. Please fix it. I ask you kindly.”

That was when Mel grinned, wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and whispered into your ear, “Okay. I want to be your friend.”

Since then, Mel has been one of the main patrons of your theatre company, and you—being a firm unbeliever in your own abilities—are convinced it’s largely her money and pep talks that have granted you the creative freedom that led to you becoming an artistic director. Your worlds collided fast and hard, and, being another person married to her work, she quickly became one of the closest people in your life.

Until Jayce.

Mel, being someone who treats every relationship as an investment, doesn’t limit her influence to the arts. So when her family decided to fund research grants for scientists from the Francis Crick Institute, you knew something was coming as soon as she justified the decision with, “And they are both very handsome.”

You know the urge very well—the ever-nagging need to have everything under control, to oversee every grain of sand that rolls through the waist of the hourglass, every second planned, every schedule so tight there is barely time to breathe. It’s one of the things that bonded the both of you.

So when Jayce came along—with his motivation stemming not from a sickening need for self-accomplishment or a desperate urge to prove something to the world, but from the purity of his own heart and a healthy curiosity—Mel began to crack. And then the disease spread to you.

Now, you actually rest. You spend your free Sundays socializing. You talk about things other than work. You’ve even been on a few unsuccessful dates. And it’s all Jayce’s fault.

You loved him for it immediately—the small crumbs of the outside world granted to you and Mel through his unabashed joy and excitement. Jayce made things fun, and turning your phone off—briefly relinquishing control—became a little less terrifying.

From there, your thoughts drift in different directions until your absent-minded stare at the moving lights outside the car window is interrupted. The driver, in a grumpy tone, informs you that you’ve arrived at your destination. You crack the joints in your hands before thanking him and bidding him goodnight.

The World’s End is all red from the outside, its glow bleeding onto the wet pavement. Through the glass, you spot the back of Mel’s heavily accessorized hairstyle, a head of intricate twists and gleaming accents. You glance at your reflection, and—well. You’ve seen better days.

Your mini skirt has twisted around, placing the slit exactly where you don’t want it, so you yank it back into place, cursing Charlie for not telling you. In the process, you notice a small eyelet in your tights, the hole widening with each step you take. No nail polish to stop it from spreading. You curse yourself for that one. Your shirt is crumpled at the stomach—a reminder of hours spent hunched over your desk. Your necklace has caught a bunch of stray hairs, which you pick out frantically as you stride toward the door. And the rest of your hair? An artistic mess, sculpted by an impatient hand that’s raked through it a hundred times too many today.

Once inside, Mel’s slender hand and a row of her impossibly white teeth beckon you forward as she stands up to give you a hug.

And the inside of The World's End is exactly what you would expect from a Camden pub—big, loud, and brimming with mismatched charm. The walls are cluttered with a collection of art that looks like it was bought in a rush at a local flea market. There's a hum of conversation mixing with the thrum of the music playing in the background, and the space itself is large, almost cavernous. The low ceiling and uneven, wooden floorboards give it an unpolished look that feels welcoming to some, but it's not exactly the kind of place you'd expect to see Mel at.

Mel, in contrast, belongs in a sleek, minimalistic bar, somewhere where the drinks are as carefully curated as the furniture, where everything is perfectly composed. Here, she’s lost in the midst of it all, a little too refined for the space, as if her sharp lines don’t quite align with the pub’s rough edges. The things we do for friends.

“Darling, I’m glad you made it,” she chirps, walking toward you and spreading her arms wide.

“Now I can say I’d go to the end of the world for you,” you murmur into her shoulder, squeezing her tight. Then, pulling back, you present a small envelope. “Happy birthday, love. Here—best possible seats.”

Mel’s brows lift as she takes the tickets, flipping them between her fingers. “You shouldn’t have,” she says, though the gleam in her eye betrays her excitement. “But thank you. You wouldn’t believe who Jayce has managed to drag along,” she murmurs into your ear.

“Oh, it can’t be,” you whisper back, scanning the table over her shoulder.

A few of her closest friends sit huddled together, deep in conversation and laughter. Then, Jayce’s broad frame, unmistakable even in the dim light. And next to him—

A pair of loose shoulders, wrapped in a red shirt stretched between two sharp blades. The nape of his neck, covered in a mess of brown curls. He leans on one hand, nodding along to whatever Jayce is saying, his profile cutting sharp against the glow of the street lights.

Viktor. The last man standing, the one seemingly immune to Jayce’s influence when it comes to making people step out of their comfort zones. And yet, here he is. Of all occasions, it’s Mel’s birthday that has somehow coaxed Viktor out of his self-imposed solitude. A horse you wouldn’t have bet on.

You are led to the table, where all the seats seem to be taken—until Viktor removes his cane from the empty stool beside him and gestures for you to sit between him and Jayce. As you lower yourself onto the stool, you take his hand briefly and say, “The smartest man in the room, finally in the room.”

“You must be talking about Jayce,” he counters, a glint of amusement in his eye. He holds your palm for just a moment longer than necessary before letting go. “I’ve heard much about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” you reply with a smile—until Mel’s head suddenly pokes between the two of you.

“What’s your poison, honey?” she asks. Only now do you notice her flushed cheeks and the way she’s completely disregarded the concept of personal space, her arm stretching beyond your shoulders to tug playfully at Jayce’s hair.

“A pint of bitter?” you say, startled.

She frowns slightly, but you quickly follow with, “Cheers,” hoping to steer her attention elsewhere. Her eyes squint at you, but she relents, giving Jayce’s back a clingy hug before strolling off to the bar. Only now Viktor’s hand releases yours.

He studies you for a moment before turning to his glass, giving you the chance to take a closer look—

The first two buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing the hollow between his collarbones, skin up to his neck is covered in a satin sheen of sweat. Tendons shift beneath it, blue veins threading along his throat. His hair is faintly damp around the ears, curling and plastering itself to his temples. From the side, his jaw forms nearly a perfect square.

You don’t dare to look higher.

Lower down, though, his sleeves are rolled up carelessly, exposing freckle-specked arms. You spot it by dropping your gaze naturally.

Mel was right. They are both very handsome.

As the birthday gal disappears toward the bar, you are left wedged between the two scientists, the noise of conversation assaulting your ears. Across the table, Amara leans in, her many rings clinking as she refills someone’s glass from a sweating bottle of wine. Beside her, Salo—always overdressed for the occasion, his blonde curls neatly combed back—gestures broadly mid-story, his voice animated. A few seats down, Mion, the youngest among them and always balancing the line between sharp and naive, listens intently while occasionally stealing olives from Mel’s abandoned plate.

"So," Jayce starts, shifting his weight so he can face you properly. “What’s keeping you so busy these days?”

You exhale, stretching your arms along the back of your seat, making your spine pop. “Wrapping up meetings with playwrights, directors, and actors—making sure everything aligns. Managing funding and sponsorships, finalising script choices.”

Salo whistles. “Sounds like a headache.”

“It’s a miracle she’s here at all,” Jayce adds, nursing his beer. “I half-expected her to send a regretful telegram from the depths of her desk.”

That earns a laugh from Amara, who nudges your foot under the table. “And what are the plays, then? What’s in?”

You rest your chin in your palm and do a mock countdown with the fingers of the other. “Further than the Furthest Thing, The Scottsboro Boys, A Streetcar Named Desire—possibly Hamlet.”

Mel, just returning with your beer, lets out a delighted gasp as she sets it down. “Hamlet? Oh, darling, tell me you’re doing it.”

“Calm yourself,” you warn, reaching for your drink. “I said possibly.”

She spreads her hands dramatically. “I can already see it now—the staging, the lighting—”

“Don’t start designing the posters just yet,” you cut in, but she’s grinning too widely to be discouraged. “I can still change my mind.”

“You know that’s a lot for one person,” Viktor remarks, leaning in from your right, his voice lower, meant just for the two of you. His pupils are darker, wider than the number of glasses of wine he’s had would suggest, assessing you from under hooded eyelids.

“I’ve always run through my life,” you say simply, tipping your glass toward him. “I do have help, though.” Viktor clicks his tongue, his mouth curving into a half-smile.

Before you can figure out what it means, Mion suddenly snaps her fingers. “Wait—how did you and Mel meet, anyway?”

Mel waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, I saw her preparing Yerma, and it was love at first sight.”

“Love?” Salo lifts a brow.

“She was standing on stage, sleeves rolled up, arguing over how the chairs should be arranged.” Mel sighs theatrically. “Her diligence. Her eye for detail. I knew I had to have her.”

Jayce snorts. “And by ‘have her,’ you mean ‘fund her.’”

Mel grins. “Exactly.”

The table dissolves into laughter, glasses clinking. Conversations crisscross—Salo and Mion bickering over some technical aspect of stage production, and you don’t have the heart to correct them. Jayce launching into an enthusiastic recounting of an experiment gone wrong. Someone beside you leans in to talk, and for a moment, you lose the thread of conversation.

The haze of smoke, the warmth of alcohol-softened breaths, the layered voices—it all blurs. Next to you, Viktor is speaking, but his words are swallowed by the noise.

The room tilts slightly, or maybe it’s just the drink settling in. Sounds overlap and ring in your ears as exhaustion takes hold and you zone out. Somewhere nearby, a bottle of wine gets passed around, then discarded in the middle of the table, still within your reach. A voice cuts through the fog, softer, closer. Then sharper, clearer than before.

Foreshadowed by Viktor’s hand on your leg—his right palm rests on you, and the moment it does, you tilt toward him, only to find he’s done the same. His fingers press inward, just barely grazing the inside of your thigh. It’s a gentle invasion, entirely unprovocative, something that simply happens—natural. His left arm hovers over your backrest as his mouth nears your ear, and you can feel the tickle of his hair on your cheek.

“Pass me the wine.” A soft command, tilting toward a question at the end, firm and quiet all at once.

You reach for the bottle without looking, your eyes fixed on his throat as he breathes. The moment it comes close, his touch leaves your leg and finds your fingers instead. His skin brushes yours, spreading the sweat from the glass onto your own, and something coils low in your stomach.

“Good…” he murmurs, clipped, as if something else should follow. “Thank you.” And then his warmth is gone, leaving you painfully sober, achingly empty.

It’s one of the most agonising seconds of your life—except this time, there’s something sickly sweet curling around the edges, a lingering undertone that was missing from all the other agonising moments you’ve suffered through.

For the rest of the evening, your attention doesn’t waver, save for the necessary moments to put Mel in the spotlight.

Viktor lingers close. Not close enough to raise any eyebrows—everyone else is too busy bickering and laughing at Jayce’s anecdotes—but enough for you to notice and relish in it. His breath occasionally fans your face when he leans over you for the bottle, his knee bumps yours under the table. He sits tilted toward you, his arm hooked against your stool, and his eyes never leave you, one way or another. He bombards you with questions and answers yours without blinking.

"Where did you study?" you ask, lips glued to the rim of your glass, leaving an stamp of your lipstick there.

"Abroad," he says vaguely, tipping his head. "You?"

"England. Try again," you counter, not looking up, only baring your teeth to the remnants of a cocktail in your hand.

Viktor exhales a quiet chuckle, tilting his glass idly in his fingers before conceding, "Vigilant, of course. Very well—biochemistry at UTC Prague." He pauses, watching your reaction. "Then onward to Francis Crick through MSCA. Now—tell me yours." The last part, a command again, gentle and firm and you find yourself reciting in no time.

"Theatre and Performance at Goldsmiths," you reply, your words a little looser, the alcohol working its way through your veins.

"Ah, how prestigious," he murmurs, voice laced with amusement.

"If you consider five years of bullying that, then yes," you slur, twirling your drink in your glass. His expression sharpens, brows lifting slightly in silent question. You sigh, meeting his gaze. "I got The Royal Academy of Dramatic Art scholarship. Before that, I led an utterly non-prestigious life in Staines."

"Hardworking girl," he purrs, and oh—his hand returns to your thigh, this time less inconspicuous as he drags a long finger up and stops just beneath the hem of your skirt.

"Where do you live?" he asks, his voice dipping lower, quieter, like the answer might be something just for him.

"Hackney," you answer immediately, then, seeing his knowing smile, feel the need to correct yourself. "The bad Hackney. You?"

"Eh, Islington," Viktor says, a hint of sheepishness in his voice.

Your mock jaw drop is immediate. "Unbelievable," you drawl. "And you dare to make fun of my fancy living?"

Viktor smirks, his fingers brushing your thigh before retreating. "You are making it up. But we can share a cab home then."

Something jumps in your chest at the thought of being locked in a tiny space alone with this man. And the cab driver, but, nevertheless. "I suppose we can. When do you want to go?" you ask, as steadily as you can manage right now.

He exhales slowly, then leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "Let's go now."

You have to stop your eyes from rolling in your skull. In fact, with the mix of various alcohols cursing through your veins and the secretive glances he’s been giving you, you’d probably nod vigorously if he offered to fuck you on the bar.

You step away from the table, weaving through the crowded space as you pull out your phone. Your fingers tremble slightly—whether from the drinks or the anticipation, you can't tell. It doesn’t matter. The cab company confirms your ride is on its way, barely three minutes out.

When you return, Viktor is still lounging against the table, his fingers tracing the rim of his now-empty glass. He doesn’t look at you right away, but his body angles toward you the moment you step back into his space. You lean in just enough to let the scent of him—wine, sweet sweat and washing powder—settle into your senses before speaking.

“We have three minutes,” you say casually, as if not stopping yourself from clenching your thighs.

Viktor gives a small, knowing nod and starts shuffling around for his cane and coat. His movements are unhurried, but there’s a quiet efficiency to them, a preparedness that has you smiling.

From across the table, Mel lets out a dramatic sigh. “You’re leaving already? I knew I shouldn’t have sat two workaholics together.”

Jayce snorts into his drink. “At least they lasted this long. I was expecting Viktor to slip out halfway through.”

Viktor hums in vague amusement, fastening the buttons of his coat. “And miss all your storytelling? Impossible.”

Mel rolls her eyes but grins. “Fine, fine. Go, be boring. Just don’t forget—” she waggles a finger at you—“you owe me a Hamlet.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Goodnight, Mel.”

With that, you feel Viktor’s hand brush lightly against the small of your back—an absentminded gesture, almost cautious, but it sends a thrill down your spine.

It’s raining again, and neither of you has an umbrella, so you huddle together under your purse until Viktor opens the door for you. You fall in with no grace whatsoever and slide your ass across the back seat to make space for him. He steps in slowly, throws his address to the driver, then slumps down beside you, looking at you expectantly.

For a moment, you freeze—until you realise everyone is waiting for your address. Mumbling out the street and number, you lean back, your shoulder blades pressing against his arm.

And oh. You know damn well you won’t be able to let this go beyond tonight—or that you shouldn’t be fucking around where you figuratively eat—but he smells good, and his eyes stay on you, dark and hungry. So you tip yourself into the crook of his shoulder, tilting your head up with an innocently pleading look.

Viktor chuckles, as if something has just been confirmed, and his slender hand finds its way between your thighs. His body shifts subtly, shielding you from the driver, who barely suppresses an eye roll in the rear-view mirror. His lips, burning with alcohol and want, close over yours. His tongue pushes inside, licking slow and deep along the row of your teeth. His fingers travel up your leg, stopping painfully close to where you ache for him most, and squeeze—just enough to brace himself as he leans in further.

You fumble with the buttons of his coat, slipping your hands beneath to tug his shirt free from his trousers. Another warm chuckle rumbles against your lips.

“So efficient,” he murmurs, breaking the kiss to mouth at your ear. His breath is hot when he whispers, “Do you want to fuck here, or will you be a good girl and wait until we get home?”

A strangled moan escapes you, and your own hand flies up to clamp over your mouth. Viktor grins against your skin.

“Good. Quiet,” he purrs, before dragging his tongue in a slick trail down your neck, stopping halfway to suck a bruise into your flesh.

Breath stumbles in your lungs when he stops, lips flushed, wet and red with your smeared lipstick, his teeth barely grazing your skin before he leans back to look at you. His fingers remain firm between your thighs, a teasing pressure that makes your legs tense and tremble beneath his touch.

Whatever has led you to this moment is not your usual behaviour, but somehow, you can’t be bothered to announce it. Long ago—somewhere after shitty date number five, or fifteen—you swore off bad sex for the sake of no sex and peace of mind. You grew tired of partners who were more tease than do, and the ones who assumed you’d thrive on organising everything in bed, just as you do at work.

You crave someone to take that pressure off you. Someone who would simply allow you to be dumb, even just for a few moments. To fuck your brains out so that poor strongest muscle of yours can replenish and breathe before you have to step back into the saddle and lead the chaotic orchestra of theatre technicians, actors, directors, and founders toward whatever critics deem a successful season. To take all the decision-making away and praise you for it.

And you have no guarantee that Viktor will do exactly that—other than the way his roaming hand squeezes your leg so firmly or the way his tongue, insistent and wanting, doesn’t ask permission before invading your mouth. The way he has stared at you the entire night has left you hotter and more bothered than anyone’s scrutiny ever has. And even if this is a mistake, it’s one you are willing to make. Your thighs shake at the thought, and Viktor gasps softly against your lips.

"You're trembling," he murmurs, voice low as the vowels roll thickly off his tongue. His free hand reaches up, pushing your hair aside. He trails his knuckles along your jaw, his thumb pressing lightly against your parted lips. "Cold, or something else?"

You give a breathy laugh, rolling your hips ever so slightly into his palm, chasing that friction. Viktor hums, pleased, before his fingers slip higher—just barely ghosting over the hanging-there nylons shielding your underwear. Your breath catches.

The cab rattles over a pothole, jolting you both, but neither of you pulls away. If anything, it only makes Viktor bolder. He shifts to face you fully, pressing you back into the seat as he kisses you again, deeper this time, his tongue curling languidly around yours. You taste wine and your own spit on him, and it makes you dizzy.

His hand abandons your thigh only to grab your wrist, dragging it to the front of his trousers, where he's already half-hard beneath the layers of fabric. "I want you," he breathes against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip before letting his forehead drop to yours.

You palm him through the material, pressing just enough to make him suck in a sharp breath. The sound alone makes a fresh gush of lust bloom in your knickers.

Then—a pointed cough.

You both jolt as if caught doing something far more illicit than you already are.

"Islington," the cab driver announces dryly, eyes fixed firmly on the road.

Viktor huffs out a laugh, dragging his fingers through his already-mussed hair. "Do you want to come in?" he says, as if you hadn’t just been grinding against each other like reckless teenagers in the back of a cab.

You swallow, pulse still pounding in your ears. "Yes," you nod. "Yes."

“I suppose we will wrap up the ride here,” Viktor says reaching for his wallet and taking out one note too many to make up for whatever the poor man had to endure. “Yeah, mate, I figured. Have a great night.”

[mrsshabana]

𝐄𝐱-𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaroxfemale!reader, 18+ MDNI, modern au, Gyutaro is your ex, smut, vaginal sex ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words. I've had this idea in my drafts for a super long time so I decided to go ahead and finish it! I hope you all enjoy it and thanks for reading ♡

Gyutaro missed you so goddamn much. The first and only girl he ever fell in love with.

At first, he was angry, but now he's just depressed. Everything reminds him of you. And he feels so incredibly lonely.

You broke up with Gyutaro over a month ago.

Your relationship lasted about 4 months until you just couldn't take it anymore. He was a decent enough boyfriend at first but as time passed it became more and more toxic.

He was controlling and extremely jealous. Getting angry anytime you'd try to hang out with your friends. Especially other men. He never trusted you even though you'd never dare cheat on him, and you never gave him a reason to believe you would.

He'd go through your phone without your permission and get into fights with you anytime you went out with your friends. You loved Gyutaro but it was exhausting dealing with this on a regular basis.

His insecurities got to be too much and he never stopped trying to control you no matter how many times you tried talking to him about it. So you eventually broke it off. Breaking Gyutaro's heart in the process.

Now that he had some time to process the breakup, he realizes what an asshole he's been. His biggest regret is taking you for granted.

You were so good to him, so sweet too. No girl has ever looked at him the way you did. Like he wasn't some ugly freak, or someone to be pitied. No, you made him feel normal. More than normal actually. He genuinely felt loved and attractive even.

Not to mention the sex was good too. God, it was phenomenal. Gyutaro told you he'd delete the videos and photos he had, but he lied. He still watches them on a daily basis. He can't bring himself to get rid of them. He's still so madly in love with you.

The thought of you lying beneath anyone else but him makes him furious. No other man should be able to touch you like he did. Maybe it's selfish, but you're his girl. You always will be in his mind. And he just hopes that you'll give him a second chance because living without you by his side is unbearable.

"Hey... r u free tomorrow?" he nervously texts you for the first time since you've broken up.

You sigh and roll your eyes when he texts you. A part of you misses Gyutaro, but you don't miss how controlling he was. However, you are willing to hear him out so you respond a few minutes later. "Yeah, why?"

"I was thinking maybe we could hang out or something? If u want to."

"Ok, that's fine."

"Cool! There's this new place I wanted to try, I'll send u the address. Meet me around 6."

And just like that Gyutaro successfully asked you out on a date! Well, in his mind it's a date to win you back. But in your mind, it's just a meetup to get closure about your relationship.

When you meet up with Gyutaro at the restaurant, you're suddenly overcome with emotions that you didn't expect yourself to feel. A longing for the man you once loved. You thought you were over him but maybe you were wrong.

"Hey Y/N!" He smiles, masking his inner sadness as he stands and gives you a hug.

A surprised sound leaves your lips when he embraces you. Feeling his arms wrapped around you again feels so familiar. So comforting that you can't help but long for it.

But you know you must resist. Remembering all of the turmoil and emotional pain he's put you through, you know you can't go back to that.

So, after a few seconds you pull away from the hug and give him a cordial smile, "It's good to see you again. How have you been?" You ask as Gyutaro pulls your seat out. How strange... he never did that when you were dating.

"I've been alright," he laughs nervously, obviously lying, "How about you? You look great."

"Thanks," you chuckle, "I've been good. Just focusing on work mostly..."

There's an awkward silence after the chit-chat ends and the waiter takes your orders. Neither of you know what to say. Gyutaro is sweating buckets right now, going through hundreds of scenarios in his head. Wracking his brain for the best things to say so he can win you back. But he can't decide so he just blurts it out.

"Listen Y/N, I want you back," he states with a shaky voice. And as you open your mouth to sternly decline, he quickly cuts you off before you can do so, "I know I was a dick. And I'm so sorry, for everything. I didn't treat you right at all, I realize that now... and I understand if it's too late. I know I'm an idiot for not treating you right the first time. But now that I've been living without you my life feels so empty. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and I fucked it up! I fucked up real bad," he tears up, "Every day just feels so fucking cold without you. There's no one else to blame but myself, I know that... but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try to get you back."

He looks at you with pleading eyes, full of desperation. Like this is his one and only chance at happiness. The regret he feels was evident in how his voice quivered and his eyes filled with tears. There's no doubt in your mind that his words are genuine. But do you really believe he'll keep his word and change? Do you want to take that chance when you've already experienced a toxic relationship with him once?

"Gyutaro..." you say as you look down at the table, avoiding looking into his eyes because the longer you stare into them the closer you come to tears, "I-I don't know what to say."

This is a lot of pressure he's putting on you. But honestly, you should have expected it. You feel stupid for not thinking of this as a possibility when he texted you.

Gyutaro takes a deep breath, "It's alright. Sorry I did all that... you probably think it was pretty pathetic. I didn't mean to make things weird... we can just forget I said anything," he looks defeated as he slumps back in his chair.

"No, it wasn't pathetic at all. I actually really appreciate what you said," you say as you reach out and take his hand, "It means a lot to me that you owned up to your mistakes and apologized. I know it's not easy to do."

His eyes widen as he feels your soft touch, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as you continue to speak.

"I'd love to have you as my boyfriend again, Gyutaro."

"R-Really?!" his face lights up, full of joy just like the first time you agreed to be his girlfriend.

Standing from his seat, he rushes to your side and hugs you tightly before you even get the chance to get out of your chair. Almost knocking you over in the process. He's just so damn excited, he can't help himself.

"I promise I won't make you regret this, Y/N!"

The rest of the evening goes well enough, that after dinner you find yourself in Gyutaro's apartment. Being pounded from behind as he holds you in a spooning position on his bed.

Throughout the whole date at the restaurant, the sexual tension between the two of you was palpable. He's obviously missed fucking you, but you missed it too. You hadn't had sex at all since you had broken up, though you thought about it often. Images of Gyutaro would flash through your head every time you'd touch yourself.

You'd curse yourself for thinking of him, getting annoyed that the memories of you two being intimate wouldn't stop. But you couldn't help but think of him. No one has ever made you feel the way Gyutaro did.

He may have been an asshole at times, but he was amazing in the bedroom. He craved you day and night, and would worship you like a queen. It felt good being so desired by the man you were in love with. Not to mention the toe-curling, bed-wetting orgasms he'd give you too.

Now you lay here in his bed, practically screaming his name as he plunges into you. Fucking you just how he's learned you like it.

"Fuck, that's it baby," he groans as he pushes you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and holding them tightly as he thrusts into you again, "God, you fit like a glove. So perfect for me... it must be meant to be, huh? Don't worry babe, I won't let this pussy go unfilled ever again."

He whispers into your ear as he feels you tighten around him.

As you feel your climax approaching, you realize no one could ever make you feel like Gyutaro makes you feel. With every touch he graces upon your body, you're given another reason why you were meant to be his.

[tofics]

ANOTHER DEAN FIREFIGHTER FIC?!?!

Oh, don't mind me. Just me having a fangirling moment over my favorite Dean!AU, by @zepskies no less! 😭 And I have things to say about it! 😌

Okay, first of all - love love loooveeee @redhoodieone for requesting this and @zepskies for bringing it to life. Firefighter!Dean just does things to me. And yes, Alex, it's all your fault. (Thank you!) And now the reader is an ELEMENTARY TEACHER? ARE YOU KIDDING ME! That only happens to be what I'm studying! It's like this trope was written for me 😭

Now. I know I've said it before, but as a plus-size girly myself, reading fics where the reader is plus-size herself not only helps with the immersion, but also becomes even more of a delight when they're pictured as desirable. And you did such a good job with that. The repeated slaps on reader's ass, his obvious attraction to her, but most importantly, his outrage when she calls herself fat. Like he can't even believe she'd think of herself that way, because that title simply never occurred to him. Such a rewarding and healing thing to read! 🥹

And god, all those feelings of comparing herself to Lisa and Jo. I wish I didn't know that sinking feeling in her gut when she talked about how she had to slim herself down to fit into the dress, while Lisa and Jo do it so effortlessly. Or the absolute gut-punch that was Lisa's talk about "sticking to a clean diet for the baby" - as if she gives two shits about the little one growing in reader's belly 😒 Ten bucks say she secretly wishes there was no baby to begin with (which, honestly, theoretically I can't blame her for...), nor that she cares about the reader's "health". Fat shaming packaged as "caring". 🤮 Ugh, it made me so mad just reading it! (You wrote it so well 🥲)

Okay, but back to Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

GIRL. Now why was this so freaking hot. Jesus Christ. And then his admiration when she's on top next morning 😭

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin. You utter a breathy laugh. Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him.

*dreamy sigh*

And this. THIS. The moment where he catches her disappointment. (Cause, ngl, I would've been uncertain as hell myself if I'd just slept with this guy for the third time in one night and suddenly he's scrambling to leave...)

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices. He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.” He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin. “Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

Oh, Dean Winchester, the man you are.

Alex, I can't wait to see where this goes! Lisa as a more bitchy version is quite the interesting read, and their little unintentional three-way set-up is bound to cause some drama 👀 And I'm here for it!!! Can't wait for the next chapter - coming out on here just one day after my birthday! Can't wait to read it 💓

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

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⋆˙⟡ Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 3/23

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@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 — 𝐂.𝐒.

SUMMARY ʚɞ Chris thinks you’re just a dream.

CW ʚɞ Fluff, kissing, touching, established relationship.

PAIRING ʚɞ Bubble .ᐟ Reader x Chris Sturniolo

A/N: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. New layout! Please read the copyright notice! This is just a lil fic for my babies bc I really wanted to use the top right pic since I had to take I down the first time. Fuck off tryna be weird. I’m having fun and vibing and I refuse to let anyone ruin that!

With love and big tits, Rose ➜ au masterlist

“Pretty,” you coo, petting Chris’ face while cupping his jaw. 

He’s staring up at you with contentment, with pure and utter joy. His flushed cheeks are warm, his hands clamping around your waist, keeping you perched in his lap as the light breeze flows by. 

The grass shutters with each puff of wind. Flowers and branches rustle, the sound adorned by light chirping from a blue bird singing in the air.

Chris puckers his lips, closing his eyes as he waits for you to kiss him. The second your lips land on his, he can’t help but smile against you, letting a hum of joy vibrate between the sweet affection. 

��Hm, thank you, Bubs. Fuckin’ love kissin’ you,” he says, his eyes slowly blinking at you as you rummage your hands through his hair. 

You nod firmly, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, laughing as it scrunches. “Mhm, ‘course. I love it too,” you remark, your voice flowing like a soft, gentle melody. 

Chris stares into your eyes, almost as if he’s searching for something. The slight crinkle of your brow makes him smile sheepishly. “Sorry, just… can’t believe you’re mine.” 

Your eyes soften as you tilt your head to the side, analyzing his doe eyes as he beams with love radiating out of every pore of his body. “You’re so sweet,” you sigh, bringing your hands to the tops of his shoulders as you try to get up. 

Chris is not pleased. His hands react before his mind, tugging you even closer than before, dragging you plush against his front. 

You huff, the air coming out in short breaths as you feel his heart thump against your own chest. 

“Don’t leave. Just… just wanna hold you, Bubs—wanna hold my girl.” 

You bite on your inner cheek, nodding as you relax in his grip, the feeling of his arms collapsing around you making your heart beat slower, your breaths calming as you let yourself feel safe in his hold. 

He just wants to hold you.

He just wants to make sure that this dream is real.

A/N: I literally love them so much. You can’t tell me this isn’t how Chris would be with his girl IRL. He’s so cutie 🩵🫧

Comment if you wanna be on the taglist. Lmk any thots, questions, comments, or concerns. Hope you’re having the best day today and I really appreciate any and all support and love.

Interacting has always been something super important to me, hence why I try to reply to every single comment and such. Having my inbox off is helping me feel a lot better so I really appreciate all the patience and kindness.

I’ve turned non-anon asks back on, but I still might not be yapping until I feel 100% ready to.

This is a really long end note, but I’m really grateful for everyone that specifically comes onto my account, wanting to talk about my work or just making me smile in general.

I love you 💕

With love and big tits, Rose 🌹

[sdmnpact]

Hello I don’t know if you’re takeing requests right now but I was wondering if you can write a George Clarke doc x reader where it’s based off the song toxic by Britney Spears thank you

Toxic.

George Clarke x Reader ff, suggestive

♪ Now Playing: Toxic by Britney Spears ♪

[] George is a player who sleeps around with girls. You are the naive girl who fell in love with the player. You know how he is but you just want him so badly, you don't care. He's toxic but yet so addictive.

[] au because its George Clarke.

[] Warning: over the pants stuff

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride You're toxic, I'm slippin' under With a taste of a poison paradise I'm addicted to you Don't you know that you're toxic? And I love what you do Don't you know that you're toxic?

~~~

"Three shots of vodka please!" Stacy told the bar tender as they nodded putting three shots in from of us.

I was at the club with my best friends Stacy and Margaret, and we had planned on getting very pissed. Stacy wanted to celebrate her promotion at work with a little girls night. She really wanted us to go all out. Her boyfriend said he would pick us up later so we were set to drink like it was nothing.

"Cheers." She said as the three of us rose the shot glasses in the air and downed it. The strong alcohol hitting the back of my throat causing a burning sensation.

"Okay, lets dance!" Stacy said walking towards the dance floor pulling on our arms. We made our way, the rhythm taking control of my body as I began swaying to the music.

>>>

After an hour, we were pretty buzzed and having such an amazing time. That was until I saw him. George Clarke.

The man that was suppose to be a simple fling. Just a one time thing, no big deal. Well, I kept going back like an idiot. Every time I would see him or get needy, he was the one I called. It's really stupid because, I know he sleeps around, he has a new girl basically every week. But, I literally can't get him out of my head. He's irresistible, he makes me feel so special. He treats me like a queen and I've never been able to find someone else like that. That's probably how he pulls so many girls.

I was deep in my thoughts, swaying to the music and I guess I kept staring at him because his eyes met mine. Piercing blue orbs staring into mine as he made his way towards me. I shouldn't do this, but I want to so badly. It would be a mistake to do anything with him again.

"Hey lovely." That familiar sweet voice spoke above the music. "Hey, how've you been?" I responded back hoping he came just to say hello. He leaned closer into my ear. "Not as good since I've last been with you." His voice spoke as softly as it could over the music. I trembled slightly at his words. "I can't." I said looking over towards Stacy and Mar.

"Oh come on darling, just a taste is all. It won't kill you." His words made my brain fog and the next thing I knew, I was being led towards his car. It's not like I was blackout drunk or anything either. I knew what I was doing and I still couldn't resist. '-just a taste', I need him so bad.

We got inside his car and I felt myself immediately latch onto him like he was the fix I needed after days without it. I placed my lips on his soft, plump ones. The ones I craved so badly, the ones that made my legs go weak, the ones that made me lose all of my common sense.

He pulled me on top of him so I was straddling him as we kissed roughly, both desperate for more of each other. His hands were on my lower back, slowly making their way underneath my shirt. I gasped at the cold sensation of his hands as they made contact with my skin. He used this opportunity to slip his tongue in my mouth trying to explore more of me.

My hands moved to the back of his neck, bringing him closer to me, our bodies molding together as our kiss became more intense. I felt the growing tent in his pants beneath me, letting me know he wanted more. I slowly started grinding against him.

He grunted against the kiss struggling to keep dominance allowing me to take over. I increased my pace as his grunts turned into loud moans.

His hands pierced into my hips as he wanted to be inside me desperately. I kept grinding against him, his head tilting back as I could tell he was about close.

My hips bucked as I feel warmth beneath me. "Fuck, Y/n, you always know just what I need." He laugh breathing heavily. "Im gonna have to go home now and clean up this mess... unless you wanna clean it?" He said as I crawled off him, sitting next to him.

Now, I know I shouldn't go with him but I can't help myself. "Sure." I said as he leaned in to kiss my lips.

"Let's go then baby."

[mattslilies]

Take It Home - C.S. (part of my model!reader au!)

warnings: nsfw content. dom!reader, sub!chris, p in v (practice safe sex guys!), tearing clothes, edging, overstimulation (m receiving), riding, heavy making out, touch of begging?

or, the one where model!reader gets to bring home sets she did photoshoots in, and chris can't help himself.

your boyfriend had never been excellent at displaying self control. but the scene in front of you? this was a new record for him.

"fuck, please." chris was on his back, on the verge of pathetically begging as he looked up at you seated atop him.

you'd modeled some gorgeous sets today for work, and you'd been allowed to bring home your favorites. you'd brought home three, still wearing one of them, and it seemed you'd gotten chris' approval.

rolling your hips against him, gasping quietly at the feeling of him hitting that perfect spot inside you, you managed to keep your composure. you made the same movement again, watching his eyes roll back as he whimpered.

"please, what baby? what do you want?"

you knew exactly what he wanted. you'd been denying him permission to cum for twenty minutes, as a punishment for quite literally tearing the new pair of panties off of you.

every time he'd gotten close, he'd pleaded with you, and every time, you'd shaken your head no.

the way he choked on a sob as you picked up your pace was worth the loss of the clothing, and you leaned down to press your lips against his.

messily making out with him, feeling him gasp and moan against your mouth, was almost enough to push you over the edge. your hand firmly held the side of his jaw, adoring the pretty sounds that fell past his lips.

he pulled away from you to suck in a breath, one that was immediately cut off by a moan, and a stuttering gasp.

"i-- i can't, please, ngh--"

as much as you loved him, you never made it easy for him.

"aww, you can't hold it?" your tone dripped with condescension, pitying words laced with disapproval.

you doubled your efforts, determined to make him lose control.

"that's fine, go ahead, baby."

it didn't take much longer for him to lose any rhythm he'd previously had, breathlessly whispering "thank you" on loop into your ear, a long whimper following as you felt his release coat your insides.

however, you didn't stop. after all, you hadn't finished.

listening to his groans of pleasure turn into whines of overstimulation, you smiled down at him.

"oh, we're not done, baby. just because you finished, doesn't mean you get to stop."

his head tipped back with a whimper, a perfect opportunity for you to leave a blooming hickey on his neck.

he always looked so pretty when he was getting fucked out.

it didn't take too much longer for you to reach your climax, your nails digging into his skin as you shuddered on top of him, his noises from sensitivity growing higher in pitch.

it wasn't until you had come down from the aftershocks and had collapsed onto his chest that he spoke again.

"bring home every damn set they give you."

"only if you promise not to rip them all."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[yvesssssssss]

Don't forget to take rest as well! Always loves your fics and thank you for bringing us happiness! I got an idea for request, maybe Nagumo and his childrens wanted to know how Nagumo and their mama (reader) met!

The Story of Us

(Nagumo Yoichi x Reader | Domestic Fluff | Family AU)

Thank you so much! Your support and kind words truly mean the world to me. I’m so happy my fics bring you joy, and I’ll definitely make sure to rest too! I hope you’re taking care of yourself as well—your enthusiasm always motivates me to write more.(⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

The living room was an absolute disaster zone.

Scattered crayons, pillows from the couch repurposed as part of an ambitious but very unstable-looking fort, and two little troublemakers climbing all over their father. Nagumo Yoichi, once an infamous assassin, now found himself pinned under the weight of his own children—both quite literally and figuratively—as they tugged at his hair, pried open his eyelids, and demanded a story.

“Daaaad! Tell us how you met Mama!”

Nagumo, ever the dramatic storyteller, sighed deeply and draped his arm over his forehead as if recalling a tragic yet heroic tale. “Ah… it was a time of peril and danger. A fated encounter between two star-crossed lovers—”

“Mom said you’d exaggerate!” his younger daughter cut in, puffing her cheeks.

Nagumo gasped as if personally offended. “Me? Exaggerate? Sweetheart, your mother is a wonderful woman, but she underestimates my gift for storytelling.”

His eldest daughter tugged on his sleeve. “So what really happened?”

Before he could spin another ridiculous version of events, the front door clicked open. You walked inside, juggling a few grocery bags, pausing as you took in the state of the room. Your sharp gaze settled on Nagumo, who was still dramatically sprawled on the couch like a fallen war hero.

“Yoichi.”

Nagumo perked up immediately, springing to his feet and taking the bags from you with an easy grin. “Welcome home, my love! We were just about to embark on a trip down memory lane.”

Your daughters bounced over, eyes gleaming. “Mama, how did you and Dad meet?”

You sighed, setting down the rest of the groceries. “If I don’t tell you, your father will make something up.”

Nagumo placed a hand over his heart. “Everything I say is the truth.”

“That time you told them you were a prince from a lost kingdom?”

“Truth.”

“That time you said you saved me from a burning castle?”

“Also truth… metaphorically.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before giving in. “Fine. I’ll tell you. But no interruptions from you.”

Nagumo mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. (You doubted that would last long.)

Your daughters immediately scrambled into your lap as you sat on the couch, while Nagumo flopped down beside you, resting an arm behind you as he grinned in anticipation.

“It all started a long time ago,” you began, ignoring the way Nagumo wiggled his eyebrows. “Your father and I met under… questionable circumstances.”

Nagumo leaned in. “It was love at first sight—”

You shot him a look, and he immediately pretended to zip his lips again.

Sighing, you continued. “I was minding my own business when this man dragged me into one of his ridiculous schemes.”

“Was he already an assassin?” your youngest asked, eyes wide.

“Oh, absolutely.” You glanced at Nagumo, who was making a heart with his hands at you. “And he was a menace about it.”

Your first meeting had been nothing short of chaotic. You had been going about your day when suddenly, a very suspicious-looking man—who turned out to be none other than Nagumo in disguise—grabbed your wrist and whispered, “Play along if you want to live.”

Naturally, you did not play along.

You had shouted, whirled around, and elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

Nagumo had grinned through the pain, saying something ridiculous like, “Oh, I like you already.”

It turned out he had been undercover, trying to escape a group of armed men who had just realized his disguise wasn’t real. And thanks to your refusal to go along with it, you ended up being dragged into a high-speed chase, a fake engagement, and at least two explosions—all in the span of a single night.

Your daughters gasped. “Explosions?!”

Nagumo grinned, clearly reliving the memory. “Ah, yes. A beautiful backdrop to our love story.”

“I thought he was insane,” you admitted, running a hand through your daughter’s hair. “And I was very sure I never wanted to see him again after that.”

“But you did see him again!” your eldest pointed out.

“Oh, I didn’t have a choice,” you muttered, giving Nagumo a pointed look.

Because after that disaster of a first meeting, Nagumo had not left you alone.

He popped up everywhere.

At your favorite café, where he casually slid into the seat across from you and said, “Fate keeps bringing us together, huh?”

At the bookstore, where he leaned over your shoulder and said, “Oh, I love that book. We should totally discuss it over dinner.”

At your workplace, where he somehow charmed all your coworkers into thinking he was your boyfriend.

It was relentless.

Your daughters giggled at the idea of their father being that persistent. “Mama, what did you do?”

“I told him to go away.”

“And I didn’t listen,” Nagumo added proudly.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on your lips. “Eventually, I realized he wasn’t as awful as I thought.”

Nagumo gasped dramatically. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, nudging him lightly.

The truth was, somewhere along the way, Nagumo had stopped being just an annoying presence in your life.

He had become the person who made you laugh when you were stressed. The person who always showed up when you needed help—no matter how much trouble he had to go through to do it. The person who made everything a little more fun.

And somehow, without even realizing it, you had fallen for him.

Your youngest daughter clapped her hands together. “So then you got married and had us?”

Nagumo grinned, pulling all of you into his arms. “Exactly! And now we’re living our happily ever after.”

Your daughters squealed in delight, giggling as Nagumo smothered them with affection.

You leaned against him, warmth blooming in your chest as you watched your little family. Despite his many flaws, Nagumo had a way of making life exactly how he wanted it. And you had to admit…

It was a pretty good one.

[chexxycheol]

Chapter 8. You're the Only One || 13 Forget-Me-Nots

❀ Seventeen x Reader

title 13 Forget-Me-Nots or 13 Eternal Loves

synopsis You couldn't wait for your 20th birthday to finally reveal the one person you'd spend the rest of your life with. Well the 13 people you'd spend the rest of your life with. Or that story where reader has 13 soulmates, who happen to be idol group seventeen

genre Fluff, Angst, Romance

tags Soulmate!au, Idol! Seventeen x Non-idol! Reader, OT13 x Reader, Seventeen x Reader.

warnings Anxiety, Mature language, Inconsistent upload schedule, Reader is gender neutral but sometimes certain depictions lean feminine.

⚘ author constructive criticism is welcomed and my asks are open for feedback! this story is a work of fiction and should be separated from reality. thank you and enjoy!

Join the taglist by commenting on any post!

—chery

wc 1.3k

《 previous || masterlist || next chapter 》

Somehow they all pulled strings and got the rest of their day cancelled, though you insisted they didn’t have to.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, we can reschedule. We want to get to know you!” They all introduced themselves once you all got comfy in their practice room, everyone taking seats on the couch, the floor in front of you or they grabbed folding chairs.

“Well, what do you want to know?” You laughed at their eagerness when it should be you asking them questions.

“Where are you from?”

“What do you do for work?”

“Joshua said you go to school, what do you study?”

You laughed at the situation of them rapid-fire asking you questions, you had nothing to worry about.

“I’m from Australia, I don’t work currently just focusing on school but I did have a part-time job at a music store, I do go to college and I study music performance” You answer the questions that stood out to you.

Seungkwan decided to ask the question that you knew was inevitable “Are you going to be moving to Seoul so you can be with us and study?” 

The room fell silent at your hesitation “I won’t be, I declined that offer. I chose to go to the school and I worked hard to get into it. I do want to be near all of you but I want to earn where my spot at school, not have it handed to me”

You made your point clear, not wanting to hurt them or upset them but you wanted them to understand your point of view. Their reactions were a mix of understanding and what you thought was hurt. The silence in the room was deafening before Minghao decided to speak.

“As much as we want you here with us, we respect your decision. We as a group and as soulmates will try to make this work for all of us” Minghao had a mature response to everyone’s thoughts, a level-headed response to the whirlwind of emotions you didn’t know you had caused.

“Thank you all, though please tell me more about all of you. I want to know about my famous soulmates!” You tried to redirect and pick back up the mood.

They began to bombard you with information, how they all met, when they debuted, how they all found out about their soul marks, how training was for them, and more information you tried to memorize and process. 

“You’re friends with Felix and all of Stray Kids though?” Dino asked you more questions and you responded to all of his questions, figuring he was excited that his soulmate was sitting in front of him.

Vernon turned to Woozi looking at him before leaning in to remind him “We have all the songs for them saved, do you think we can show them?” 

Woozi nodded before telling everyone to go get food and bring it back to the cafeteria. Most members left but Seungcheol, Jun, Dk, Minghao, Jeonghan, and Seungkwan stayed behind. 

Vernon headed towards Woozi’s studio to grab his laptop and headphones with the songs they wanted to show you, he made sure they were all saved, he even added a few more unreleased songs onto the computer before hauling back to the practice room.

As he walked back in he saw you helping set up a table and chairs for them all to sit and enjoy the meal, you first meal together as soulmates. He handed Woozi his computer and headphones before they quickly sat you down before the others could return with the food, the others sat around the table watching you.

“We have songs that we saved for you since you haven’t listened to us right?” Woozi asked and you nodded at him “We have songs specifically for you, we wrote them for you, songs that expressed our feelings for you” You nodded before putting on the headphones, Woozi pressed the play button and the piano melody came through.

You listened, absorbing all the lyrics, the meaning, and the singular voice you heard assuming it was the demo track for the song. You started to tear up as every verse passed through your ears, by the end of the song you were crying. The only ones who understood why you were crying came next to you to offer comfort at the meaning behind this song.

It carried the weight of their emotions, every verse carried the big if, particularly the if of had you decided to not be their soulmate. You understood they had every right to be worried if you decided to not want to be with them, carrying the weight of having 13 soulmates. 

“That was beautiful and I can promise I want nothing more than to be all of your soulmates” You sniffled wiping your tears with the tissue Seungcheol handed you. Those around the room smiled at your words, your promise to them. 

“Good because you’re the only one we want, you could’ve left Seoul and never contacted one of us and we would’ve understood. You’ve handled this whole thing with grace and kept your chin up despite it all being thrown at you. We want nothing more than to cherish and love you” Jeonghan spoke from across you, looking at you with a proud smile on his face. 

The others finally burst through the room with food from the cafeteria, loud and with big smiles on their face like they won the lottery. They did win the lottery, their soulmate was there and willing to make it all work.

Vernon sat next to you, watching his other members set the food and bicker like nothing had happened. He then realized something about you.

“I’m sorry to ask something personal, but what day and time did you get here in Seoul?” He had a look of realization on his face and Seungkwan who sat on the other side of you now decided to join the conversation.

“Vernon that’s a really weird question to ask” Seungkwan said too loudly and cause Seungcheol, Jun and Dino’s attention who were sat across from you.

“I don’t mind! I got here I believe around the evening on Wednesday, that seventeen hour flight was brutal” You laughed off his question not thinking too much of it.

“I think I bumped into you at the airport by accident” Vernon said with a look of surprise on his face pointing at you. You thought back to when you arrived and remembered the masked man with the ball cap covering his eyes bumping and walking away quickly.

“Really?” You asked surprised, one of your soulmates bumped into you by accident when you arrived. You both looked at each other with shocked faces before laughing and causing the others around you to laugh at both of your facial reactions to one another.

“Vernon you mentioned bumping into them, it was one of the first things you said to me when you got back to the house” Seungcheol was doubled over laughing at the fact that you and Vernon had been so close yet so far. He knew it was something not worth laughing about but the shocked reaction you both had made it funny.

“Foods all set! Let’s eat!” They all sat around the table in the practice room, everyone looked at Seungcheol the eldest to take the first bite but he turned to you before saying loud enough to everyone “I think our soulmate should have the first bite” 

You were visibly shocked once again at the eldest giving that to you. Typically everyone waited till the eldest took a bite, but they let you; the youngest, take the first bite before everyone could eat.

“Don’t worry, we usually don’t do this” Jun chimed in from further down the long table, with others nodding.

“We want to give you that honor since we’re now complete” Seungcheol said to ease your worries.

taglist @gigglensnort @amanda08319 @neivivenaj @allys-reads @sarabencze @kkochiau

[fishymom-art]

You're probably tired of hearing so much from me tbh but I love your fix a beast au so much 😭😭 like you are keeping me well fed. I used to be those malnourished autism creatures now I'm the obese version of it. I thank you!! Also Cv reminds me so much of Tempest from mlp especially the song Open Up Your Eyes! Anyway ty for this delicious and angsty feast 🙏🙏

Funnily enough, I started out as a my little pony artist here on tumblr (finding my old pony art here would be like searching for big foot. That was 3-4 main blogs ago). It was in around uuuhhh 2012/13, maybe. I never finished watching the show. Every few months I come back to rewatch it just to forget about it and the cycle repeats all the time.

So it’s extremely funny that people bring up mlp as something that my au reminds them of 😂😂😂 it’s like I’m back to knowing this day aria by heart

[mecachrome]

hey, first of all, love the aesthetic of your aus gp posts <33 also, i'm going to a race for the first time later this year, do you have any tips or advice? thanks!

omg thank you anon!!! and yes i LOVE writing up useless information i would be happy to help :3c very excited for your first gp experience and i hope you have a great time! 🥰

so for me i've been to 3 gps now and each has been in a different country... i did usa 23 > can 24 > aus 25 and each track and event have been unique in their own way, also depending on whether it's a sprint or whether the track is open on thurs/has pit walk available, your schedule will vary slightly... but i can still share what was useful for me each time!!! also this is all for gs tickets, i've never done ga so don't have much to share there.

preparing + packing for the trip

obvious one but especially if you aren't local and need to travel, make sure you do research into the weather ahead of time. when i went to austin it was literally 40c in OCTOBER i thought we were going to die... also for rainy days ponchos come in clutch, imo way more effective and packable than umbrellas, i've been to two wet races now and can attest to them. pack: lots of sunscreen, a hat, ponchos if rain is forecast, comfortable footwear

try to research the track map, where your grandstand/turn is, what kind of seat you have... for cota & montreal we were in the bleachers while in aus we had grandstand seats, so for the latter we didn't need any seat cushions but your butt WILL get sore sitting on the bleachers for multiple hours a day lol... also it's useful to just have some kind of cushion or towel or whatever to bring around the track if there's nowhere to sit and you want to eat food on the grass. pack: some kind of towel/blanket/cushion that you can sit on when you need

food and security at each track will vary, but it's always a good idea to bring snacks if you're allowed to, especially if you have to arrive early in the morning. expect to walk a lot! austin for us was rather strict about drinks iirc but montreal and melbourne truly did not care at all... also cota just had bad overpriced food options in general but i liked the melb options and ended up eating lunch on track without complaint (they had a lune croissanterie stand which i thought was cute <3). each track will just have different infrastructure so it's hard to give specific advice, but melb for example was really good with water refilling stations so that was useful. pack: water bottle (can be empty to fill at station), snacks if you're worried about food

i'm sure you know this but merch at the track is always like 3x the price so get all your merch beforehand! i've bought most of my mcl stuff at like 30% retail price because i wait for it to go out of season and get it online (i usually use cmcmotorsports), so try to have all of that sorted beforehand. pack: cheap(er) team merch before you get to the track 🧡

other stuff: imo these days f1 cars are pretty quiet so you don't need ear protection anymore, but if you're particularly sensitive and/or super up close you can always pack those. also if you have an american express card SOME gps have amex booths where they give out free radios which are really helpful for keeping up with the race commentary, especially if the speaker sucks where you're sitting, but it won't be everywhere so that's a good thing to look up.

track events

again each track varies with this because some tracks are open on thursday and some aren't... it's always good to look up if thursday pit walk is available for your gp, since in montreal we got to do it because they were running a free lottery system that year and i got lucky. pit walk is super cool imo but i wouldn't pay $200 for it!!!!! anyway melbourne happens to be 4-day, and it specifically has the melbourne walk (where you greet the drivers walking in and can get autographs) which is especially hectic on thursday........ you should research your gp to see what days track is open + what the fan events are, because melbourne has a really high-energy fanbase whereas some gps will be more chill. like melb walk nowadays basically forces people to wake up at 3am and camp outside the gates if they want to get barricade, which i think is a GREAT activity for people who a) haven't had a formative boy band fandom experience yet and b) are between the ages of 12 and 21 and don't suffer the joint pain of an arthritic grandmother. i personally am too old for all of that but i was willing to wait for fanstage which i think is more worth the pain/reward. i'll talk about it in a bit!

what was i saying... oh yeah if you happen to have time on thursday or when fan events aren't happening, first thing i'd do on track is to go around the fan zones and find booths that are giving out free things / have free activities. in cota i got a free mclaren tote and water bottle, in montreal they had a mclaren lego building booth, in melb i got really cute aus gp themed patches from the amex building... every gp is different and it's always fun to accrue souvenirs! you should also do this as early as possible before the crowds pile in or before they run out of things.

speaking of crowds, it's useful to scope out the bathrooms (especially those closest to your gs... make sure you know where that is too!) and get food / go to the bathroom during off-peak times. though obviously you can't always control this... but just know that each track will be different and sometimes you'll have to suffer through super long lines to get food or use the restroom, so try to plan these things accordingly. melb had a lot of bathrooms actually and i think i was most impressed by its infrastructure (minus the lack of RAIN shelter), whereas cota... omg i'm such a cota hateur i'm sorry. some places are simply better than others for these things <3

make sure you know how to get to the track! again not to bash cota but it's so out of the way and austin isn't great for transit in general so if you need to purchase a shuttle pass from the gp or something like that make sure you have that ready to go. other places are accessible from the city so you can easily take transit and it's much less of a pain. also expect crazy lines on sat + sun to get out of the track...... try to research whether your nearest gate is one of the more/less populated ones and whether it makes sense to walk to and leave from another one. these are all things you can figure out once there though

check schedules + gate open times for every day... it really helps to have a rough idea of each support series' schedule and what you want to be on track for. for melbourne we had to get to gates a lot earlier on fri + sat because those were the fan forum days, but we rolled up later on sunday because we only had to be there for races. gate open times often vary per day so it's good to have an understanding of the little details.

if you want a good view of fan stage, 9.9/10 times you need to book it straight from gate opening: this is what i was saying about scoping out the track early if you can because it's soooo useful to know exactly where you need to go for fan engagement. again AUSTRALIA is so uniquely crazy because there are people lining up at 3am for melb walk, but we go to the closest gate at 7/7:30 ? for 8:30 gates, booked it straight to fan stage, and were like 6 rows behind for the first team at 10:30 LOL. i'm fine with sitting around for 2 hours so that doesn't bother me, but those are just little details to be aware of... also cota 23 was way less competitive so it does depend on the gp. and mtl 24 didn't even have fan stages because of the weather 😭😭😭 rip.

do track invasion if you can/have the energy! some tracks won't have track invasion if the gp organizer vetos it, but i do think it's really nice to do if you have the willpower to after the race is over... some people will swarm and jump the fence, but if track invasion is authorized there WILL be actually approved entry points and i'd just wait patiently for those to open lol. there is no reason to injure yourself for this... also tracks are obviously very long so i've never actually walked the entire thing lolol, but it's nice to just stroll a little bit and see certain parts up close and get a feel of the vibe. and walk the start finish straight and see parc fermé/the podium area if you can! but again you can see what you're up for when it happens...

i'm trying to think of anything else to mention... my biggest piece of advice actually is to browse or follow r/grandprixtravel on reddit, you can find a lot of specific & recent information about your gp and grandstand there! also if your gp organizer has social media you can follow that to be up to date with events.

another thing is to see whether there are any free events off-track & around the city beforehand... like williams has a fan zone in a lot of cities during gp week and you can sometimes go to driver q&as off-track which is lots of fun. just try to research these things and i'm sure you'll be set! also sometimes random stores will have display cars and stuff like that... just lots of random sponsorship + touristy things.

if you have any other questions lmk!!! the most important thing is ofc to have fun :3c

[lovesickchoi]

100 Ways To Leave a Lover - TEASER

PAIRING: prince!taehyun x villager!reader

GENRE: angst, smut with plot, loosely inspired by jackson wang’s ‘100 ways’ music video, slight romeo and juliet adaption

WARNINGS: mentions of death, suicide, execution, blood, weapon possession, happy(ish) ending if you squint

SYNOPSIS: prince taehyun of the kang kingdom wanders outside the palace every night to escape his life of royalty. what he doesn’t expect is to meet the love of his life beyond the palace’s borders, which only serves to further fuel his hatred of the throne.

WC: 308 (full au ~15k)

A/N: this is not intended to romanticize suicide whatsoever. also, i recommend watching the music video before reading. the song is so good and the visuals are a great way to set the scene! click here to watch it

taglist open! send ask or comment to be notified when the au is posted :)

Taehyun hastily grabs your wrist to stop you. “Wait!” his voice was filled with urgency. Expectantly, you look up at him in annoyance. “You can’t tell anyone that I was here. I’m not allowed to leave the palace.”

“I’ll think about it,” you half-joked, though there was no denying the curiosity he sparked. His grip around your hand loosened before dropping to his side, and you’d be lying if you claimed you didn’t feel a pang of disappointment at the loss of contact. It was strange how speaking with the kingdom’s beloved prince felt as ordinary as chatting with any other commoner.

“I’m serious." He refused to break eye contact. "Nobody can know.” There was an undeniable panic in his voice, and you decided to let your defense down for the moment, nodding in reassurance. “Thank you-” Taehyun stopped, not knowing what to call you.

You finished the sentence for him, your name confidently rolling off your tongue.

He repeated your name softly, and you had to admit it sounded better coming from his lips. “I’ll have to find a way to repay you.” Taehyun offered you a kind smile which you returned genuinely this time.

“You could promise to buy me more fish.” you beamed at him childishly, tugging on the strap of your bag.

“I think that can be arranged.” a smirk splayed across his mouth, knowing you weren’t serious. “And call me Taehyun.”

“I think I prefer Your Highness.” With that, you spun on your heel and hurried down the dirt path, leaving Taehyun rooted where he stood. He watched as your figure faded into the darkness, pulling his hood back over his head. Staying out any longer would undoubtedly cause problems for him back home, but he could hardly bring himself to care. After all, the only thing occupying his thoughts on the trek back to the palace was you—the strangely enigmatic, fearless girl from the village he desperately hoped to meet again.

-

There are a hundred ways to leave a lover.

Taehyun had spent sleepless nights tormenting himself over each one, his mind cycling through every possibility. Abandonment, betrayal, indifference—all the ways people tear each other apart. But death... death was the most permanent of them all.

[11queensupreme11]

AHHH ! I’m so glad you like my modern au !

Ok so Percy’s dad is still pjo Poseidon lol sorry ! Him and sally were one of those Sumer romances and he did lowkey wanna stay but pjo Zues ( bozo telenevela level drama queen ) has a hissy fit and his family have him stuck to his og wife. Sally was first with Gabe then divorced ( Loki found out and burried his ass in cement ) Rn Sally is Happy and married in nyc with Paul !

Percy goes to college in Long Island and lives with Grover and anthonius ! ( thanks for the ideas btw I love it !!!) Grover works at a nonprofit to save the ecosystem and he too won’t show up yet since he was raising money to preserve an endangered plant. They both still pay for rent but are currently off doing their stuff at the begening of the story.

Because of that Percy mostly hangs out with her other friends, Brunhilde a law major and her little sister Goll a highschool senior who is currently doing a nursing tech ( I went to a highschool in Long Island where you could do that I think it was also called Boces )

As for how Percy ends up at a frat party ! Her apartment neighbor Drew calls her panicked because she was at a frat party and her idiot sorority sister piper acted a fool cause the both of them had a thing for Jason ( Percy’s cousin ) whose this really nice dude who’s only in the same frat as Cu cause of his idiot dad wanted him to follow his legacy. Anyways shit went south so Percy went to help her and met one of the banes of her existences in the process.

For the health issues I could totes see Apollo clocking her in the hospital he has his residency in and breaking all The doctor codes to see what’s wrong with her ( I still don’t know what illness to give her lol ) he then proceeds to coddle her like she’s some fragile girly, he’ll lift her stuff, walk her home, feed her, people assume they’re dating or married with how he dotes on her.

And omg yes ! Hades would put his mouth in his foot and hire Beel as her new math tutor, Beel is also a sad bozo loner who’s only freind Lilith is currently off abroad because she’s a photographer usually and curbs his less ethical ways and is a voice of reason but with her gone he’s been spiraling internally. Then this brat who can’t do math and wears blue dyslexia glasses barged in to his life… and no he doesn’t like her even when she brings him food and check in on him… and she’s definitely not his new bestie…

Loki and Percy’s friendship ??? Kinda happened from him being semi related to Goll and Brun, so it tends to be them plus Thor on sleepovers and movie theater nights, of course at first they were passive aggressive as shit but one drunk night and they’re chill ? Ok not really but he’s a beloved grimlin that crawled out of somewhere and Percy tolerates him ( also cause she doesn’t know he turned her abusive step dad into a cement statue )

And although pjo pos wasn’t with Sally he’s actually a pretty good dad when he can be, he’ll send her fish shaped plushies and even secretly paid for her college, he even owns the apartment complex she lives in and keeps the rent affordable. Him and Percy go fishing every summer and he even own one of those #1 dad mugs ( Percy made it in a pottery class ) also HE PAYS HIS CHILD SUPORT !!! The only reason Percy and Sally struggled at first was cause gave was a shitty abusive ass but as soon as Sally could girly pop ran.

Also not to confuse things I think the pjo gods would be named after their Roman counter parts to make it easier.

As for ror Poseidon man did he not like her at first ! She’s this pretty looking girl who can’t read for shit always wears blue sunglasses indoors ( he doesn’t realise they’re dyslexia glasses ) and smells like coffee and cookies. He had beef with a college girly ( looser ) then they have a dramatic stuck in the elevator moment where he finds out oh hey… she’s not that bad I guess ? And then when he realises she loves marine life as much as him he is obsessed ! So what if she’s the only one who gets praised ? Or better grades ? Or the only one who gets to go on his internship in the summer ? She’s perfect…. ( bro is delulu )

Also I deff wanna hear anyone else’s ideas about the au it would be so fun 😋

I FORGOT TO ADD THIS IN THE PREVIOUS ASK. but since beelzebub was made her tutor only because anthonius was gone..... imagine him crashing out when anthonius comes back and percy tells him "hey beelie, i just wanted to let you know that you don't have to tutor me anymore because my friend came back! yaaaaay now ur free of me, haha!!! 😄"

also, i'm picturing ways they find out about anthonius lmao.

like for beelie, it's what i said above. she drops him as a tutor cuz anthonius is back and she's all like "i bet ur super happy cuz now you don't have to deal with me anymore haha!! 💖💖💖" and he's just crying internally

for cú chulainn idk, maybe he goes to the cafe to be a menace again, but she's on break and talking to some other dude and he's just fuming. or maybe he tries to mess with her again like always, but then ANTHONIUS who doesn't give a shit who cú chulainn or his family is, steps up to tell him to fuck off??? idk lol knowing cú chulainn, he'd probably start a fight ngl

and for anubis.... hmmmmmm........... maybe he goes to visit her sometime near closing time. percy's always last to leave and she and anubis sometimes meet up at that time so she can make a special treat for him and kebi, but maybe this one time he goes there only to see her talking with some dude 💔💔💔💔💔 and he's just... face-pressed into the window like 🥺 or something and anthonius and percy are like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️

for poseidon..... he'd definitely be evil enough to have a 9 AM class and percy ALWAYS does her best to show up in time but one day she was late and when he asks her about it she's like "oh sorry! my friend anthonius came back from rome and we stayed up super late celebrating! 😅💖" and he crashes out

and with hades.......... hmmmm maybe anthonius finds out that hades has been snatching her up for random meetings in his office and anthonius is all like "umm percy... that's a little concerning, maybe you shouldn't do that anymore" and she listens and stops coming 💀💔

and for loki, since you mentioned that she hangs out at the valkyries' place (and loki by extension), maybe he notices that she hasn't been visiting frequently and asks brunhilde and she's all like "oh percy's friend that she may or may not be in love with came back from rome so she's been hanging out with him. btw they live together lol" 😂😂😂😂😂

for apollo, maybe the same with beel! she calls him up and is like "hey apollo! i'm so sorry i've been making you waste so much time with taking care of me.... you don't have to do it anymore! my friend came back, he can handle it! thank you for everything!!! 💖💖" and he loses it LMAO

[pinkiemachine]

Hey Hi Hello 👋🏽

Whenever this reaches you i hope your day/night has been wonderful. I just read your concepts on Green Lanterns: Special Forces and I’m in love it sounds so interesting and I will admit that the lanterns have a special place in my heart. But now I’m curious as to how Kyle would fit into everything, so would you be willing to expand on his character and role? Would also include his multiverse trip with Jason and Donna into your universe? Idk when canonically it fits lol but would that be something you’d be willing to play with or not? Absolutely no pressure either way I’m just curious lol I love pretty much everything you’ve done and Wondermom was one of my favorite series!!

Sorry for kinda rambling lol

Wishing you all the best!!!💙🌙

Thanks for the kind words! I’d be more than happy to elaborate!

Okay, so to start off, like I said in my first post, I really only have the loose structure of everything laid out, so adventures like the one with Jason and Donna are classified under “yet to be determined” but I will say, for my little DCAU I’ve got going on here, I want to use the multiverse as LITTLE AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE, because—like time travel—once you open that can of worms, things become so complicated and “story creep” sinks in, and before you know it, you have Crisis on Infinite Earths, which I feel is a storyline that’s just so humongous I just stop caring. So… for the moment, it’s a big IDK. 🤷‍♀️

Alright, so getting into Kyle’s story! (keep in mind, again, I haven’t written anything down in certain terms. This is my “idea board” basically) So during the events of Emerald Twilight, Hal Jordon is so grieved by the death of his best friend Barry Allen that he decides to try and force a prophecy to come true in order to bring him back. The prophecy (Blackest Night) states that there will a unification of power among the Lanterns, and life will come forth in great abundance. Hal decides that the way to achieve “unification of power” is to take all the other Green Lantern rings by any means necessary and then he will be the sole wielder of the power of Will. Then, he’ll have enough power to bring Barry back to life. This is not what the prophecy meant, and it doesn’t work, but during the chaos, a new Green Lantern is chosen to replace Hal on Earth’s GL Team. He’s chosen in a rush, seemingly at random, and thrust into the fray. His name is Kyle Rayner.

Once Hal is defeated, his trial concluded and sentence carried out, the other GLs are able to assess Kyle more carefully, and they discover something truly remarkable. Remember the emotion tracker thing I made up for this AU? Well, in Kyle’s case all the levels are super high—all of them—with Willpower leading the pack by just a bit. Somehow, despite this clear unbalance of emotion (according to the GL handbook) Kyle is cleared by his ring for active duty, and showcases very refined control over his emotions and the ring. The only reason anyone can think of to explain this odd paradox is that Kyle is naturally super in touch with his emotions, but he’s also an artist, and he frequently uses those emotions by putting them all into his art. Intense feelings, but great control. A Green Lantern ring hasn’t chosen someone like this in a long, long time.

So, time goes on, Kyle gets trained up, Hal is visited in prison, more adventures ensue, and THEN something big happens. (I might be confusing this for something that happened in Sinestro Wars, or I just made it up—either way) Oa gets destroyed. Not entirely. Like, not Death Star level blown up, just blown to oblivion from orbit. BUT during this chaos, when everyone’s evacuating and trying to fight off the enemy, Kyle gets distracted. He thinks he can hear this strange sound coming from the Central Power Battery there on the planet, and it sounds vaguely like a whale call. As if completely forgetting there’s fire raining from the sky, he’s compelled to enter inside of the Power Battery and is transported to an Other Place. Here, he meets Ion, the spiritual personification of all willpower in the universe, taking the form of something that looks vaguely like a whale. Ion can sense that the time is right. Kyle has been chosen. He will be its new host.

From the outside, blaster fire strikes the Power Battery and it EXPLODES in great green furry, but from the top, like a bright green shooting star, Kyle flies, radiating Willpower Energy! He fights off the advancing enemy, the day is saved, and then the questions begin. Kyle is kind of like the Green Lanterns’ new Power Battery right now, playing host to Ion, and he also cannot turn this power off, which means he cannot return to civilian life. The Oans also don’t like the idea of him going out on missions anymore, because if something happens to him, Ion has no host, and then the Green Lanterns would be without power! Actually, they start to formulate their plan to build a new Power Battery for Ion so Kyle doesn’t have to be a host for it, but Ion stubbornly refuses. It will stay in Kyle and it will accept no other host. So for now, looks like he’s stuck.

(sidenote: I’m wondering if Hal should escape prison here during the fall of Oa? He disappears into the universe for a while like a vagabond and becomes something of a space ranger/outlaw/vigilante? Trying to atone for his crime? Just a thought…)

Then comes the Sinestro War. It begins when Sinestro captures Kyle (still working out HOW exactly he does that…) and since he knows that Kyle can handle being a host for an Entity, he decides to use him instead of building a whole Power Battery for Paralax, the Yellow Lanterns’ version of Ion. (Creepy bug-like beasty.) Paralax tries to take control, trying to push Ion out, but is unable to. In the end, Kyle is playing host to TWO entities, which is unimaginable! I mean, he wasn’t supposed to be able to do that with just one, but two is even more insane. So, in this state, Paralax manages to get some control over Kyle and Sinestro is able to start making Yellow Lantern rings, and the whole war thing happens.

After all that brouhaha is over and done with, the good guys still have to figure out how to get Paralax out of Kyle, and all they can think to do is try and give Ion a little help. So they lure Kyle to the Blue Lanterns’ planet where they convince Adara (Blue Lantern Entity, bird-like… thing) to also take Kyle as a host (temporarily) and help Ion fight Paralax out. Remarkably, Kyle survives the experience, but Paralax is absolutely refusing to let go of Kyle. If nothing else, he can’t control Kyle anymore, but now Kyle’s stuck with three Entities in his head, and no one knows what to do about it.

All of this comes to a head during Blackest Night. That little prophecy is about to come to pass, and it starts with the rising of the Black Lanterns, wielding the power of death itself. Much to write for this, very little is even conceptualised, except for how it ends, which is this:

Kyle catches the attention of all the remaining Entities, starting with Jerrog (The Butcher) aka the Red Lantern Entity (bull-looking monster). He’s just straight up angry at the fact that Kyle exists and wants to fight the other Entities inside of him, and so invites himself in. He’s quickly followed by Ophidian, (Orange, Greed, Snake) who’s just jealous that everyone else is using Kyle as a host and wants to take him for himself, and then he’s followed by Phillipa and Marona (Indigo, Compassion, Squid, and Pink, Love, Horse respectively. (yes, I changed the Pink Lanterns’ one a bit)) Anyway, they go diving in to try and help Kyle, but all they end up doing is nearly ripping Kyle apart on the molecular level! What stops them? Well, in a tremendous display of control, Kyle forces all the Entities to stop quarrelling, and suddenly he’s enveloped in a bright, white light! It shines so brilliantly that everyone, on every planet in every nearby galaxy can see it! From this miraculous light emerges the Entity for a new type of lantern. The White Lanterns. And the chosen shape? Man. Kyle. With this incredible power, he sends out White Lantern rings to all the heroes of the galaxies and calls them forward to fight the armies of Nekron, king of the Black Lanterns. It’s a huge crossover event, it’s insane, I still haven’t written more than this for it XD but in the end, the good guys win, and then…

Kyle takes everyone back to Oa where he reconstructs it as New Oa. He builds a new kind of Central Power Battery, one where it can fit all seven Entities, and the creation of any rings can be monitored and regulated. Finally, all the Entities let go of Kyle and return him to his natural state. Well, mostly. After going through all of that, it feels nearly impossible for Kyle to ever go back to being a “normal human.” From then on, due in no small part to the Guardians’ lack of initiative regarding the prophecy of Blackest Night and their failure to do a couple of other things, Kyle will be the leader of the Guardians from now on—staying on standby in case the White Lanterns are ever needed again. Also also, because of the new Lantern system he put in place, this is what opens the door to discovering the sub-sections of Lanterns, like the Gold Lanterns (joy) and the Grey Lanterns (sadness).

So there you have it! Everything I’ve written about this artistic, beautiful destiny’s child! Hope you enjoyed reading that, and I hope there aren’t any glaring holes, or things I ought to reconsider (or that I forgot) but that’s why this is just my idea board. Let me know what you think!

(Sorry for the long post…)

Part one of my Green Lantern show—Green Lantern: Special Forces! 👇

[fall0utmind]

Nesting anon here 🪺

My faculties came back to me eventually after the stres sheat blanked out my thought process haha!

To respond to your previous answer as I said I would, poor Marc going through it when he starts to nest again omg. The first nest he builds is built through tears, shaky hands just not getting the pillows and blankets right, it doesn't smell right, Alex trying to shush him and help him even though he knows he can't really UGH. Delicious. Then when the nest is built he doesn't even want to go in it bc it's just Not Right, but Alex coaxes him into it and eventually he gets in, still stiff as a board and tense through the whole thing.

I think for his first pack nest maybe the boys from the other series would be good? Kind of like a pup nest, they're all extremely careful around Marc yet treat him sort of like a parental figure so that would feed right into his instincts and maybe make his omega surface quicker?

Then probably the VR46 pack, and just as you described it, with Bez roping him in and making him participate (absolutely adorable I can see it in my mind's eye). Maybe the relationship rekindling with Vale is too new and he isn't allowed in the first time (into the nest proper, he can sit on a chair in the room)? That'd be spicy.

Then the motogp pack omg your ideas are just perfect, no notes. David would definitely 100% growl at Vale, then be shushed by Marc who turns David's nose back into his neck and kicks up the purring a notch. Vale has just melted into the floor.

The STRESS HEAT, I thought about it after my brain was back online and I had basically the same concept in mind. Awful heat, painful, maybe even no sex involved bc it just hurts too much? The stress on Vale is through the roof bc he wants to help his omega but he can't do much besides provide his scent and touch to hopefully ease Marc's pain a little. All in all, a Mess™️. Bez comes in to drop off some food and check on them and finds Vale in tears, Marc asleep on him. Vale is barely holding back sobs to not wake up Marc and is just so guilt ridden that he can't take Marc's pain away, he doesn't want to hurt him again and feels responsible for the stress heat (as he should, catch these hands Vale 👊)

Again, thank you so much for coming up with this au, I am so hooked <3

Hi anon 🪺🪺,

Thank you for taking the time to get back to me - for others who are interested - prev ask is here !!

The first nest he builds is built through tears, shaky hands just not getting the pillows and blankets right, it doesn't smell right, Alex trying to shush him and help him even though he knows he can't really UGH.

Hi yes yes - so this is so important to me. The absolute pain for Marc, who is finally ready to accept his Omega, only to feel like he has forgotten how to do it. Alex is there trying to comfort him, asking to join the nest, pulling Marc close. Maybe even taking as many of their clothes as he can, even managing to find their dad's hoodie- anything to make it feel like home. Marc really, really struggling to relax - again, I bring you back to the idea that Marc thinks that he is a bad omega :((((

a pup nest, they're all extremely careful around Marc yet treat him sort of like a parental figure so that would feed right into his instincts

oHHHH I love this - I do think it would be a lovely way for Marc to be in touch with his Omega - especially having that parental instinct of his little ducklings who have imprinted on him. Also, something so touching about the people who look up to Marc and learn so much from him, ending up being the ones to teach him how to do this again. Also adore the idea of Alex being there - like the photos of them all training together.

WAIT--- It happens after they have been training at Aspar??? Go back to Marc's or something. Alex helped to organise it - spoke to Marc and offered the boys somewhere to sleep. Very sweet idea that they do it in Marc's home too :)

Glad you like the ideas about VR 46 - now let's talk about THIS 👀

Maybe the relationship rekindling with Vale is too new and he isn't allowed in the first time (into the nest proper, he can sit on a chair in the room)? That'd be spicy.

Fucking love the idea of Bez setting that rule!!!!!!!!! At first, it is only Marc and Bez - they slowly invite certain people in - Luca and Pecco etc. But yes Vale is allowed in the room but not in the nest.

Is it slightly torturous for him? Yes

will he do it for his Omegas? yes

Does it prove that he is trustworthy? It helps.

I am also loving the idea of some of the pack (defo Bex, Franky, maybe Pecco - not sure who) purposely winding Vale up a bit - being super touchy with Marc, making the room stink of content omega. (HI hi for the people who like it, one of them slightly teasing Marc, lips over his neck and it kinda turns him on and Vale is lOSING IT)

Then the motogp pack omg your ideas are just perfect, no notes. David would definitely 100% growl at Vale, then be shushed by Marc who turns David's nose back into his neck and kicks up the purring a notch. Vale has just melted into the floor.

This happens maybe a little after it all works out - since shit has gone down at the end of the season/ during winter break. So by the time we are in the new season, things have settled a bit meaning it is easier for him to take control of the pack - to shush David and to be close to others!! Love it.

Awful heat, painful, maybe even no sex involved bc it just hurts too much? The stress on Vale is through the roof bc he wants to help his omega but he can't do much besides provide his scent and touch to hopefully ease Marc's pain a little. All in all, a Mess™️. Bez comes in to drop off some food and check on them and finds Vale in tears, Marc asleep on him. Vale is barely holding back sobs to not wake up Marc and is just so guilt ridden that he can't take Marc's pain away, he doesn't want to hurt him again and feels responsible for the stress heat (as he should, catch these hands Vale 👊)

Ugh baby, I don't want to put him through that but I also so do. Poor guy, he is struggling. After all the shit he went through, only to have this too.

and Vale being helpless is such a good metaphor - especially for Marc being in pain, when he has put Marc in pain for so long. The rest of the pack is also a mess because Marc is pack and seeing him in pain is awful. And yes Vale sobbing over Marc - maybe Luca is the one who can comfort him. But yes he deserves to feel guilty because it's all his fault.

The next heat will be good though, lovely and a proper heat.

Thank you for coming back - I will reply to your other ask asap :)

[yuwuta]

JJK OLYMPICS OHHH YOURE A GENIUS

head spinning w sooooooo many athlete aus rn….. 

satoru honestly isn’t half as cocky as the media makes him out to be but he could be because you bring up world champion men’s freestyle swim times and it’s his name on the scoreboard ten times before someone else shows up. he’s faster than himself by fifteen seconds all around, he’s earned a bit of cockiness. mentioned in the last post that whenever he’s at a competition and he finishes a race, he looks at the camera and signs a little infinity sign and then blows a kiss to you. some bitter old coach always calls him out on it, and gets him fined for unsportsmanlike conduct, and he’s happy to pay the fees if it means getting a message home to you, but eventually you two come up with a new code; and at his next race, he places gold, turns to the camera, crosses his middle finger over his pointer finger and smiles. when he’s in his post-race interview, he makes sure to explain that he does it for you with the widest smile on his face.

megumi nepotism baby but not in the same sport. toji was a multi gold medalist back in his heyday for shooting, so it’s not really a surprise to anybody that megumi has scary good aim, but he takes to archery instead of shooting. actually the idea of megumi being an emo little kid and throwing rocks at a tree when his dad pissed him off his hilarious, and even funnier is toji watching him, slightly amused and a little scared because megumi is maybe six and hitting the exact same spot every single time. he grows to be very blase about it—it’s more of a release/hobby for him that he happens to be really good at, and well, now good enough to earn a few olympic medals. megumi is not a fan of having his dad ruffle his hair on international television after he’s won, but he supposes it can’t be helped.

i don’t know where to put yuuta…. tennis…. tempting….. him in his little white shorts…. little grunts after he serves…. cries….. a complete 180 in his personality when he’s playing vs doing anything else. so charming and sweet and kinda shy when he’s being interviewed, and the second he steps on the court his eyes are so cold it’s scary…. need him… extremely nerdy about his rackets, and shoes, and clothes, and rambles to you about aerodynamics and posture and torque whenever you ask him to teach you, and you always have to shutup him up with a kiss and remind him that yeah you sort of want to learn to play tennis for him, but mostly you came bc he looks hot doing it. once he got asked in an interview if he ever thinks about you while he’s playing and his response was very concise, “no, never. it would be a big distraction,” and did not realize the implications of his heavily televised words. 

also…. not to make this post 40% yuuta but we could pull from canon a bit and make his sport fencing. he doesn’t excel because he’s the strongest, it’s because he’s learned to treat the sword as an extension of himself and a good strategist… also because i like the image of him pulling the helmet/mask off and shaking his hair out………..

don’t even know where to put yuuji…. volleyball? basketball? track and field??? the irony of him easily being the most athletic but canonically does not want to play sports 😭 but i can see him playing a sport because someone scouts him and it turns out to be a way to make steady money to support himself and his grandpa :( by the time he’s qualified and made it to the olympics, wasuke is doing much better (thanks to yuuji having landed some preemptive sponsorships and being able to afford better medical care), but not so well enough that he can travel across the world to watch yuuji play. wasuke tells you that you should travel and be with yuuji, but yuuji is so touched by the idea that you would stay with his grandpa and be by his side when he’s away :(( he wins gold, of course, and he doesn’t even wait until the closing ceremony—which, he’d mentioned in all of his interviews, so nobody can be too upset. he’s on record saying, “i’m excited to play, but i’m even happier to be going home. my girlfriend and my grandpa are watching me and i miss them!” several times— he’s on the first flight home with flowers, and tears in his eyes. puts his gold medal on his grandpa’s neck as a thank you, and spends probably thirty minutes straight hugging you and kissing you and honestly don’t put it past him to propose now that he’s got nike ambassador money 

nanami started judo as a way to relieve the stress of his overbearing job, and someone at the gym/training center notices he seems to be a natural despite being a beginner. he starts to draw a crowd, which annoys him at first because the point of judo was discipline and release from having to deal with too many people at his office job, but nanami supposes he can’t be too mad when you introduce yourself as a talent scout and offer him professional training. there’s irony in him accepting your offer, because it was definitely not based in professionalism at all… quitting his job as a salaryman to become a professional athlete in his mid-twenties was not on his bingo chart, but if it means he will have met you, then so be it. you’re with him all the way, through his training, competitions, world championships, qualifiers, all the way until he’s on the podium. you’re the first to congratulate him, but he interjects by telling you he’s quitting. you ask him why—he just won at the olympics for crying out loud, but nanami just shakes his head, puts down his flowers and his medal so his hands are free to hold your face and tell you, “it would be unethical to kiss my manager, so i am quitting.” (later, when everything is said and done, and you two are cuddling, you mention to him that he could just hire a new manager, and not quit his new career, to which he blushes because yeah… that’s probably more rational, but rational was not in his train of thought at the time)