#I think that this is exactly what we're getting. and to be fair. as an angsty bitch I'm not even complaining.

[solxamber]

Cake and Crime - Jade Leech x reader

After a long week of assignments and sleep deprivation, all you wanted to do was satisfy your craving for a specific pastry at your local shady café. What you didn't mean to do was accidentally order a hit on yourself.

It all started with a misunderstanding. To be fair, things like this always seemed to start with a misunderstanding, but this one really took the cake. And, of course, it involved Jade Leech, because why wouldn’t it?

You’d been to the Mostro Lounge before—after all, it was the go-to place for your family gatherings. Azul’s idea of a café-slash-business-operation had gotten buzz, and like everyone else, you found yourself sipping a drink and enjoying the food, none the wiser to the shady dealings that went on behind the scenes.

And why would you know? Despite being an heir of a crime family, you had absolutely no idea that your family was basically the mafia. No one had ever sat you down and said, "Hey, just so you know, we're kind of in the business of making problems disappear."

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve been suspicious when your uncle’s "bakery business" never seemed to actually bake anything, or when your aunt talked about "solving problems" with a knowing wink. But you chalked it up to eccentricity. After all, who wouldn’t believe their family was just full of quirky folks?

This week was a disaster for you. Everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong. You hadn't slept in three days and had about five papers due in two. So, you really needed a pick-me-up, and where better to go than your usual place?

Of course, when you wandered into the Mostro Lounge for your usual drink, Jade Leech, with his ever-present smile, was behind the counter, asking in his polite way, “What can I get for you today?”

Without thinking much, you let out a long, exhausted sigh and said, “You know what? I could really use something sweet. Do you guys do special orders? Like, something custom?”

Jade, ever the picture of politeness, raised an eyebrow, his smile polite but predatory. “Special order, you say?”

You nodded. Maybe they’d have what you were craving. "I heard you guys can make it happen."

Jade’s smile widened ever so slightly, and you swore his sharp teeth glinted under the dim lighting. “Ah, yes. Special orders.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And what exactly were you looking to order?”

You thought for a second before blurting out, “I’ve been craving a Thai tea pastry with cream cheese. Maybe with boba, too?”

Jade paused, his eyes glinting for just a moment before his usual grin returned. “A Thai tea pastry with cream cheese, you say?”

You nodded, leaning on the counter, not noticing the flicker of interest in his expression.

“And who is the lucky recipient of this… special treat?” he asked.

You shot him a confused look before pointing at yourself. "It's for me."

“Of course,” Jade replied, already scribbling in his little notepad. “Consider it handled. You'll receive your delivery in a few hours.”

Handled. Now, at the time, you hadn’t thought much of that word. You figured Jade was just being friendly, efficient, the perfect worker he always was. So, naturally, after putting in your "order," you headed back to your family’s estate, feeling strangely lighter.

Later that night, as you sat down for dinner with your brothers, you casually brought it up. “Hey, guys, I put in an order at Mostro Lounge today. Jade said he’s going to ‘handle’ everything for me.”

Your two older brothers, hardened men who’d seen more than their fair share of the family’s business, froze mid-bite. Forks clattered against plates as they slowly turned to stare at you with wide, horrified eyes.

“W-What?” the eldest sputtered, his voice rising several octaves. “You… you put in an order?”

“Yeah,” you replied, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing. “I asked for a Thai tea pastry with cream cheese and white boba. You know, to get rid of my craving.”

The middle brother choked on his drink, sputtering wildly. “You… WHAT?!”

Your confusion only deepened. “I just needed some stress relief! It’s not that big of a deal. Jade said he’d take care of it.”

They stared at you in disbelief, as if you’d just told them you’d sold your soul to a demon—which, considering who you’d been talking to, wasn’t far from the truth.

The eldest brother put his hands on the table, looking like he was about to have a mental breakdown. “Do you even know what you just did?”

Your other brother, slightly more composed but clearly panicking, started pacing. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

Now, it was your turn to look concerned. “Okay, what is going on? Why are you both freaking out?”

The eldest brother ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. “You… you used a code, you idiot!”

“A… code?” You blinked. “What kind of code?”

Your middle brother, still pacing, stopped long enough to stare at you incredulously. “*Thai tea cake with cream cheese*?! That’s not a pastry order! That’s a request to kill someone! It’s the ‘break their legs but don’t kill them quickly’ code! And white boba means 'make it as painful as possible!'”

You gaped, your stomach dropping as realization hit. “Wait, WHAT?”

Your eldest brother slowly knelt in front of you and asked, “Did you mention who the order is for?”

When you slowly nodded and pointed at yourself, his face dropped, and he let out a long-suffering sigh.

Your middle brother groaned, shaking his head. “And you told Jade Leech—the most terrifying guy in Mostro—to ‘handle it’?!”

Panic set in as you finally started piecing it together. “Wait, so I didn’t just… order a cake?”

Your eldest brother gave you a deadpan look. “No, you didn’t. You ordered a hit. On yourself.”

You ordered a hit. On yourself.

You stared, wide-eyed, as the words sank in. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

The middle brother waved his arms frantically. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying!”

Jumping to your feet, you knocked your chair back and grabbed your coat. “I need to fix this! How do I fix this?!”

The eldest sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “You need to go back and cancel the order before Jade actually follows through!”

Which led to your current mad dash back to the Mostro Lounge, heart pounding as you practically burst through the doors. Breathless, you ran up to the counter where Jade stood, his ever-pleasant smile already in place.

“Ah, welcome back,” Jade said, his tone smooth and unbothered. “I was just about to finalize your… order.”

“No!” You flailed, hands waving wildly. “I need to cancel it! Cancel the whole thing! I didn’t mean it!”

Jade’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned on the counter, his sharp teeth barely peeking through his smile. “Cancel it? Are you sure? You seemed quite certain earlier.”

“I’m very sure!” you said, desperate. “It was a huge misunderstanding!”

Jade hummed thoughtfully, his fingers tapping the counter. “Misunderstanding or not, it was quite an amusing order. I must admit, it’s not every day someone orders a hit on themselves.”

You slumped against the counter, groaning. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Jade chuckled, a low, amused sound. “Not at all. But… I suppose I can let this one slide. After all,” he added with a wicked grin, “it’s far too entertaining to see you squirm like this.”

You sighed in relief, but Jade wasn’t done. He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Though, I must ask… are you certain you don’t want anything else? Perhaps a ‘shaken not stirred’? Or maybe a ‘dark roast with extra cream’?”

You squinted, half-curious, half-terrified. “Uh… what do those mean?”

Jade’s grin widened. “The first is full-blown sabotage. The second? Well, let’s just say that’s for when you want someone to ‘vanish.’ Permanently.”

You shuddered. “Yeah, definitely not. Just cancel the ‘pastry,’ and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

Jade straightened, still smiling. “As you wish.”

Relief started to wash over you, but the look in Jade’s eyes—sharp, calculating, amused—told you that this situation was far from over.

“So, it’s… canceled, right?” you asked, feeling a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t haunt you forever.

Jade tilted his head, considering you for a moment. His smile never faltered, but there was a glint of something more behind it—something that made you feel like you were still caught in some kind of trap. “Hmm… I did say I would cancel it, yes. But I must admit, it’s not often I receive such an… intriguing request. Canceling something this entertaining doesn’t come without a price.”

You blinked. “Wait, a price? I thought you said you’d let it slide!”

Jade’s grin widened, the sharp edges of his teeth visible as he stepped out from behind the counter, moving closer. “Oh, I am letting it slide. But everything comes with a little negotiation, don’t you think?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Jade was standing much closer than you anticipated, and the way his mismatched eyes gleamed under the soft lounge lighting had you frozen in place. You weren’t sure if you were more terrified or intrigued at this point.

“And… what kind of negotiation are we talking about?” you asked warily.

Jade chuckled softly, his voice almost a purr. “Oh, nothing too extreme, I assure you. You see, I was thinking…” He paused, letting the moment stretch out as his gaze lingered on you, the tension in the air growing by the second. “…that you could spend a little time with me. Consider it compensation for the… cancelation.”

Your mouth went dry. “Time with you?”

He nodded, his smile still soft, but the teasing look in his eyes told you that this was no ordinary request. “You’ve caught my interest, after all. It’s only fair that I take the opportunity to get to know you better, don’t you think?”

You swallowed hard, trying to process what he was saying. “So… if I spend time with you, we’ll call it even? No hit, no thai tea cake, nothing?”

“Exactly,” Jade replied smoothly. “Just a pleasant exchange. I’d say it’s quite a generous offer, wouldn’t you?”

Generous? Sure. But the way he was looking at you made it feel like you were walking into another trap—though maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t one you’d mind falling into.

You hesitated, glancing at the door and then back at Jade. “And what would… spending time with you entail?”

Jade’s grin softened slightly, becoming a bit more genuine. “Oh, nothing too outrageous. A few meals, perhaps. A walk through the botanical gardens. Maybe I’ll even show you some of the more… exclusive areas of the Mostro Lounge.”

Your heart was pounding now, and you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves, excitement, or a mix of both. Spending time with Jade Leech sounded like playing with fire, but… well, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that had sparked inside you.

“Well…” you said slowly, glancing up at him. “I guess that’s better than being taken out by one of your ‘special services.’”

Jade chuckled again, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Much better, I’d say. Shall we start now?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

Jade stepped back slightly, gesturing toward the lounge’s main seating area. “Why not? I’m free for the evening, and I believe you’ve already cleared your schedule, haven’t you?”

There was no escaping this, was there? But, surprisingly, you didn’t really want to. With a deep breath, you nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. I guess I’m yours for the evening.”

Jade’s grin returned, bright and sharp. “I’ll hold you to that.”

And as he led you to one of the more private booths in the lounge, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this was the most dangerous, yet exciting, order you’d ever made.

Masterlist

[sovamurka]

wouldn't it be funny if in arcane s2 timebomb had an almost full-on romantic moment of quiet desperation that is interrupted right before they cross the line, thus leaving us all blue balled?

[reverie-starlight]

the thing with me is that as soon as I put something into the queue, I'm gonna be thinking abt it and counting down the minutes until it gets posted so I feel like I can actually write something again

[evilminji]

I woke up to this thought? And it made me smile~

Wrong way Au?

It's EASY to fly from point A to point B. Linear. Just on long, no traffic, straight line. And if you get lost? Go higher! There you are! But "normal" reporter families with Totally Human genetics can't exactly DO that.

Plus? It's part of the whole Americana thing!

Childhood.

Gotta do a road trip, see weird road side attractions, camp and hike a bit. Go somewhere other then the farm for once. Soooo~ everyone into the car! Yes, you too, Kon.

And don't look at Lois, kids. She hates this idea as much as you do. But it's for Dad. So we're doing it. Get in the car. Some times loving people means "suuuure, honey! I TOTALLY want to sit in an uncomfortable car for hours for your nostalgic dream trip!", so get comfy.

Problem is? He either can't navigate for SHIT (unlikely) or this patch of nowhere? Possibly haunted? Cursed? Fuckey. Very, very Reality Fuckey. Far more likely, honestly. They THINK that was the a same barn the passed four times now... but it looks... wrong? Off. Worse each time, in ways that are hard to place.

Where the FUCK are they Clark?

According to the GPS?

Here.

(You are Here. You are Here. You are He-)

Oh, THAT'S not cursed! She fucking KNEW they shouldn't have left the city. FUCK the countryside. She likes ONE(1) small town and it's where her in-laws live, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! If they die, she swear to GOD-!!!

Then Jon points to colorful tents up the road. A mix of the kind you buy at big box stores and Ren fairs. Balloons. What the fuuuuuck? "Fenton Family Reunion"?

Was... was that THERE a second ago?

Clark's very deliberate Not Too Tight Grip Of Panic ™ on the steering wheel? Confirms that No Honey, it was not. Kon points out? That eventually they ARE going to run out of gas. They should stop.

Words can not express how little the Kents want to do that. They have KIDS to protect. This feels "magical fuckery" to them. AKA? One of the few things Kryptonians very much CAN NOT handle.

And luck getting ahold of anybody back there kids? No? Emergency lines too?

Fuck ™.

Okay! Guess we're stopping! Stay behind us.

They park.

There are campers and trucks, modified tanks and trackers. A few horses grazing side by side with an honest to God moose and two mules. A Llama. Someone's anchored a dirigible. A boat with spindly chicken footed legs, like it's the house of baba yaga's sea faring love child. The name Fenton is slapped on everything. Peoples faces.

Grinning.

Everything grinning.

As they get closer, the racket gets louder. Crashes and smashes. Roaring laughter. Explosions. The screech of metal failing and the whine of energy overclocked. Fatty meats cooking. Spices from around the globe. Radios and instruments, at least one of which violently cuts off in a smash.

They pass an almost violently balloon choked arch, into chaos.

Grinning giants, everywhere. Every color, every shade, every race imaginable. The spectrum of humanity laid bare. Made large. Grinning, Grinning, Grinning. Crashing into each other, against, through. Smashing and laughing, as everything breaks around them. Titans.

Darting underfoot, children. Fast with wild eyes. Mad grins and fae laughs. Wives and husband's, partners and friends, dancing in and out of the chaos. Just as destructive. Perhaps MORE so. Grabbing meals from grills, laughing and joking, tossing children into the fray, all as they effortless hold conversations of their own.

Like a Dionysian revelry, all madness and joy.

Then they are noticed.

"Cousin!"

One of them booms. Locking eyes on Clark. He doesn't even have time to move, doesn't realize until too late, in all the chaos, that the man meant HIM. A running start is followed by a brutal, full body, flying tackle. Clark is taken skidding to the ground and into a headlock.

"LETS WRASTLE~!!"

He watches in helpless confusion as, with high-pitched war cries, a pair of twins jump Jon. They are wearing war paint. Krypto already taken out by a glowing green dog, now confused and wrestling off to the side. Lois has whipped out her tazer. Kon between her and who ever comes next.

By the time he wrestle his "cousin" off of him, he's lost sight of them both.

Dives into the fray.

Magic be damned, that's his FAMILY!

It... It's the most fun he's had in years. That any of them have. He finds Lois in a breathless, screaming, debate/fistfight with her new best friend. Samantha "call me Sam Or ELSE" Manson-Fouley-Fenton. Kon is in the mud pit, wrestling other teenagers in some sort of battle Royale. Jon? Has become king of the ferals. The other parents are impressed.

His years of Damian wrangling finally paying dividends, apparently.

By the time Clark FINALLY tracks down Krypto, there is already crowd and it apparently six heel turns deep into the WWE Grand Saga of the Fenton Pet's League. Krypto, what the hell. No. No you may NOT "form one last alliance against my sworn wrestling enemy, to prove the true meaning of Christmas!" It's the middle of SUMMER!

Clark... Clark is so tired.

He's also a Fenton now. Yes, he KNOWS that's not how anything works. YOU try explaining that! He's on the call list and card list. It's like the Addams family out here! They just... just DECIDED him and his family were related! They've apparently DONE THAT BEFORE!

They leave with directions, fudge, more leftovers then anyone could possibly eat, and a massive new extended family. One that honestly? The Justice League SHOULD have known about. The sheer destructive chaos they get up too? EVERYONE should be aware of them. It seems impossible NOT to be! But? According to THEM, it's a "family thing". Reality tries to ignore them for "it's own sanity"? What???

So yeah.... no more road trips.

How was YOUR weekend?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @lolottes @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

[unclewaynemunson]

“I need to tell you something.”

Shitfuckno. Eddie doesn't even know why he's still surprised. This is how it always goes, after all. He should probably just give up and stop dating altogether – again.

Steve looks at him exactly as ominously as the words I need to tell you something require. Perfect Steve. Funny Steve. Sweet Steve. Sexy Steve. Steve, who Eddie had genuinely believed to be different.

Eddie sighs, barely suppressing a dark chuckle while he turns away from that perfect face. He doesn't want to look at Steve when he'll tell him the undoubtedly messed-up shit he's about to spill.

“Lemme guess, you're married?” That was what the last guy he dated told him, seven months after they got to know each other. It can't be much worse than that, can it?

Steve grabs Eddie's hand, causing him to involuntarily jerk up his head and meet his eyes.

“How did you know?”

Jesus H. Christ. Not again.

Eddie roughly pulls his hand out of Steve's grip and laughs a joyless laugh.

“Apparently I'm a good guesser.”

He stands up from the park bench the two of them had been sharing. “Well, Steve, this has been a blast. You should go back to your wife, or husband – don't tell me, I don't even wanna know – and I should um, get going. Maybe tell the next person right away what they'll be getting themselves into. Would save them a lot of wasted time, just in case cheating and going around other people's backs isn't really their thing, y'know.”

“Eddie, wait, let me explain!”

Eddie picks up his pace, but Steve, stubborn as he is, easily keeps up with him.

“I'm really not interested, man.”

“It's not – I'm not cheating on her!”

“Okay, so you have an open marriage, good for you. Still the kind of information you could've shared with me, say, three months ago, don't you think?”

“She's a lesbian.”

And that makes Eddie freeze on the spot. It takes Steve two steps before he realizes Eddie has stopped moving; he walks backwards until he's standing right in front of Eddie.

“She's my best friend,” he says, immediately using Eddie's stunned silence to his advantage. “Robin, my roommate – I told you all about her. We wanted to buy a house together and that turned out to be very complicated when you're not... Well, when you're not romantically involved. So we got married. For the, um, practical reasons. We never – we're like siblings. I love her like a sister. But she's also my wife. Platonically.”

It takes a few seconds until Steve's words sink in. Then, Eddie leaps forward and basically collapses into Steve's arms, needing to hold onto him to prevent himself from crashing to the ground.

Steve's arms are warm, strong, and as safe as ever.

“Eddie, are you okay?” Steve asks softly. His lips brush against Eddie's ear while he speaks, and worry colors his voice.

Perfect Steve. Too-good-to-be-true Steve.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” is the only thing Eddie manages to say.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Steve says. “It's just – I've gotten some, um... Less than ideal reactions, in the past, whenever I told this when I was seeing someone. So I thought it'd be better to wait until things were getting serious.” He sighs, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair. “I didn't wanna scare you off. Are we – are you okay?”

Eddie nods. He lifts his head from where it's resting against Steve's shoulder and raises his hands to squeeze them around Steve's face.

“We're okay,” he says. “And I'm sorry I didn't want to listen to you. I–” He stops; he can't find the words right away. It's still difficult to talk about those things; to let himself be vulnerable. But Steve has been honest with him, so it's only fair to return the favor.

“I've been hurt, Steve,” he confesses. “More than once. I've had some really shitty experiences with dudes not being honest with me. I thought that that was what was happening again, and I couldn't – I couldn't go through that again. Especially not with you.”

“Jesus, Eddie, I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay,” Eddie rushes to say, pulling Steve even closer towards him. “I trust you.” And as soon as these words leave his mouth, he knows it's the truth.

“I do want to be absolutely clear about one thing, though,” Steve says.

Eddie leans back in Steve's arms to give him an expectant look.

“Robin is my wife. I'm not planning on that to change anytime soon. We've been through a lot together. She's been the most important person in my life for years. We own a house and a dog together, and I love her more than anything. I like you a lot, and I promise you I'm all-in with you, but... Robin is still my number one. And that's not gonna change overnight. I need you to be okay with that.”

Eddie swallows. He looks into Steve's eyes. All he sees is a man who is honest, who loves his friends deeply, and who refuses to make any compromises when it comes to love – whether it be the platonic or the romantic kind.

It doesn't scare Eddie off; it only makes him fonder of Steve.

He smiles, glances around to check if they're alone, and presses a quick kiss against Steve's lips.

“I think I can live with that,” he says. “As long as I'm the only one who gets to do this.” He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet Steve's again.

The sigh that Steve breathes into their tentative kiss is one filled with relief.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: Nothing shatters the tension of a fight quite like needing your boyfriend to rush home to save you from people who would do you harm.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fighting, Fluff, Kind of mean!Simon but not too bad, very minor violence, home invasion, I think that's it...?

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: we're gonna dip a toe in the COD water and see what happens. I love ghost and Konig so we'll see what else I do there. For any and all COD stuff, I use Canadian Military as a basis for the readers background.

~*~

"I've had enough of this. I'm not gonna argue with you about somethin' so stupid," he hisses, glaring at you with hard, cold eyes.

"It's not stupid, Simon, you just don't want to ever entertain the idea of talking about things that might make you slightly uncomfortable!"

"Oh fuckin hell." He drags a hand down his face and shakes his head.

"Everythin's always gotta end with you being right, doesn't it?"

You frown at his absolute lack of any sort of understanding or empathy.

"This isn't about me being right, this is about you at the very least hearing me out!" You try.

"You knew what you were getting in to the moment you met me, m'not sure what you're expecting of me now. S'not like I can go and change the way things are, now can I?"

You narrow your eyes at him and his blatant ignorance.

"I understand full well, Lieutenant. I've been there, which is something you seem to conveniently forget."

He lets out a humourless chuckle and shakes his head, "don't go put yourself in the same category as me now, lovey. You know you weren't exactly at my level when you served."

His words are a slap in the face.

Sure, you were never quite JTF2 or SAS level, but that doesn't mean your time in the military is any less valid than his.

Seven years of your life you devoted to serving your country, the medical help for teams like his, and all he can do is turn his nose down at it as if it means nothing to him.

"You know what? Fuck you, Simon. I never even insinuated that we were at the same level and for you to try and..." you stop, pinching the bridge of your nose as anger fills you.

"What? Got nothin' to say now? That's a shock."

It takes all your strength not to lash out at him and even more to stop your bottom lip from quivering at just how mean he's being.

Sure, he's always been a little rough around the edges, a little harsh and brazen, but never has he been so downright mean to you.

"Get out."

"What?" This seems to genuinely catch him off guard, his arrogance faltering for a moment.

"Get out. Leave."

Simon Riley isn't a man who gets scared. He's been chewed up and spat out of hell before. Nothing on Earth can get the jump on him and nothing can scare him.

At least, that's what he thought.

His palms tingle and he needs to grind his teeth together a few times to collect himself before speaking.

"So that's it then?" He asks, his deep voice barking the question like he would an order.

You two have had your fair share of fights in the time that you've been dating, even more since you moved in together, but none where he's thought you might end things.

"I'm not gonna stand here and take a verbal beating from you, Si. Get out and come back when you've had a chance to fucking cool off."

He stares at you for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting to see if you really mean it.

When you hold his glare, not backing down, he grabs his coat, mask, and keys and storms out of the house without another word.

You stand there in the kitchen for a long moment, the silence ringing heavily in your ears before you storm up the stairs to take a shower and, hopefully, argue out all your hostility in private.

The warm water runs over your tense shoulders for a few minutes and you try your hardest to relax, to let the anger seep out of you and run down the drain, but when you hear the front door open you're filled with rage once more.

You stand in the shower silently, waiting for the door to open and close again, signalling his departure, but instead you just hear boots on the kitchen floor.

Scoffing and shaking your head, you start to seethe.

As if he's wearing his shoes in the house on top of everything else.

You yank the shower curtain aside and step out onto the mat, not bothering to turn the shower off.

A crash from the kitchen makes you freeze.

Simon is never this loud.

Like a deer on the highway, you stay still, silencing your breathing as you listen to the noises coming from the kitchen.

Instead of calling out to him and potentially causing more trouble, you take a silent step to the counter where your phone lies.

You grab it and hit his icon quickly, listening to it ring for a while before he sends you to his voicemail. A loud beep sounds tauntingly in your ear and you huff out an angry breath.

You hang up and call him back, grinding your teeth together when he sends you straight to voicemail again.

The noises in the kitchen continue, and your heart jumps into your throat.

Answer your phone, Simon.

You shoot the text off quickly then immediately call him again, your stomach settling when the call connects.

"Are you home?" You waste no time on pleasantries, and instead hear him sigh heavily.

"You told me to get the fuck out, didn't ya? Why would I be home."

Your breath hitches and you press your back to the bathroom door, turning the lock silently as panic fills you.

"Simon, someone's here."

The fear in your voice has his blood running cold, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as your fight gets shoved from his mind.

"What do you mean 'someone's here'?" He asks, his voice lacking the anger it had only moments ago.

"I heard the door open and I can hear someone in the kitchen."

You hear his tires screeching on the pavement and his engine roaring as he speeds home.

"Where are you right now?" This isn't Simon talking now. You recognize the change.

This is Ghost.

"I'm in our bathroom. Door locked and shower on."

"Good. Keep that water running. As long as they think you don't know they're there, you should be okay until I get home."

"Okay." You feel a little bit safer knowing he's on his way home.

"Keep me on the line."

"Okay."

There's a few seconds of just breathing before you speak again.

"How far are you?"

"Two minutes away."

"Okay... After you deal with these guys we can go back to yelling at each other," you whisper, wrapping a towel around your body and leaning against the wall across from the door.

He chuckles softly and the sound makes a small smile tug at your lips.

As much as he pisses you off and even sometimes hurts your feelings, deep down you know you'll never love anyone the way you love him.

You don't realize you've been quiet until he calls your name softly.

"You still with me, dove?" His voice is soft and you hear him turn the car off.

"I'm here."

"Good. I'm home now, don't come out of the bathroom 'till I come get you, understood?"

"Understood."

Sometimes living with Simon reminds you of being on base, and there are times when you despise it.

And then there are the times when you don't mind it as much. This is one of those times.

You hear the muffled sound of what must be him putting his phone in his pocket, and you close your eyes as you hear the soft click of the door handle through the speaker.

His footsteps are silent, even through the phone, and you feel ridiculous for ever thinking you'd hear it if he came home.

You can hear him as he takes down one intruder, and then what must be a second one.

He says nothing to them, that you can hear. But a series of dull thuds echo through the house before silence remains.

A few minutes go by of nothing, but you don't dare speak or open the door.

Ghost gave you an order, and you have no intentions of disobeying.

There are a few more moments of silence before you hear a crisp knock on the door.

"Lovey? You can open up now."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, you open the bathroom door and are immediately engulfed in Simon's strong arms.

He walks you backwards into the bathroom and squeezes you to his chest, mask hiked up over his nose so he can breathe in the scent of you.

"You all right, love?" He asks softly, his voice gruff and ever so rough.

"M'okay, Si. Thank you for coming home."

"S'my fault anyway. I shoulda locked the door before leavin' in a huff the way I did."

You frown and shake your head, pulling away to look up at him.

"This is in no way your fault, Simon. I could've easily locked the door after you. I'm just happy you got home in time."

Though you're not sure what the intruders really wanted, you're glad you didn't have to find out alone.

"I'll always come home."

And with those four words, he puts to rest not only the intruder situation, but also your argument from earlier.

Because he will. He'll always come home to you, regardless of what he needs to do, he'll make sure he comes home to you.

[aceyalonso]

that's the thing about illicit affairs - OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing : ex!oscar piastri x fem!reader ↳ slight lando x fem!reader at the end

summary : a maid of honor and a groom that she knows all too well, only one of them gets their happy ending.

warnings : swearing, drinking, fighting, relationship issues, mentions of settling down, marriage, majority of story takes place in 2027

word count : 6.5k

song : illicit affairs - taylor swift

a/n : happy 400 followers with a not so happy post! and a special ty to @iamred-iamyellow for convincing me to write this <3

September 10th, 2024

Y/n lifted her head from Oscar's chest, shifting her position to look at him directly. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. "Have you ever thought about getting engaged or married someday?"

Oscar's expression turned slightly cautious as Y/n asked the question. He paused for a moment, thinking about it. Finally, he responded, "Well... I haven't really given it much though, to be honest. I've been focused on our relationship and enjoying our time together."

He shifted a bit on the couch, now sitting up straight. His gaze remained fixed on Y/n as he continued. "Why do you ask? Is it something you've been thinking about?"

Y/n nodded, a mild sense of disappointment showing on her face at the realization that Oscar hadn't seriously thought about it yet. "I was just wondering. It's something that's been on my mind for a while."

The conversation turned into a more serious tone as the topic escalated to an argument. The initial lighthearted mood was replaced with tension and disagreement between Y/n and Oscar.

Y/n's frustration began to show on her face, her voice getting slightly louder. "I don't understand why you haven't thought about it yet. We've been together for 3- Almost 4 years, Oscar."

Oscar's initial surprise at the escalation of the argument slowly turned to frustration as well. He responded, his voice rising slightly as well. "It's not that I don't want to marry you, it's just... I don't know if I'm ready for it yet. The thought of getting engaged or married is a huge commitment.

Y/n scoffed a bit, her agitation growing. "I know it's big commitment. But that's exactly why it's important to discuss it and be on the same page about our future. I need to know what we agree and don't agree on!"

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't want you to feel like I'm avoiding the topic, but it feels like you're putting pressure on me to make this decision. I just need more time to think about it, alright?"

Y/n crossed her arms, clearly dissatisfied with Oscar's response. She lets out a huff before responding. "More time? We've been together for years, and still need more time to think about it? How much more time do you need?"

Oscar's irritation grew at Y/n's response. He raised his voice slightly, matching her heightened tone. "I understand that we've been together for a long time, but that doesn't mean I have to be ready to get engaged or married right now. And constantly pressuring me about it isn't going to make ready any faster.

Y/n shot back with a bit more heat in her words. "I'm not trying to pressure, I just want some clarity about our future. It's not unreasonable to expect some form of commitment after being together for this long. You make it sound like you're not even sure if you want to marry me at all!"

Oscar's expression hardened at Y/n's accusation. "That's not fair. You know I love you, and I don't doubt our relationship. But marriage is a big step, and I want to be absolutely certain that we're both ready and willing to commit to it for the rest of our lives."

Y/n let out an exasperated sigh, feeling increasingly frustrated. "I understand that, but I feel like you're keeping me in limbo. You can't ask for more time without giving me some assurances that you do see a future with me. I need some sort of confirmation that we're on the same page here."

Oscar let out a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Okay, look, I do see a future with you. I do want to be with you for the rest of my life, alright? I just need more time to mentally prepare for the idea of getting engaged or married. It's a lot to process all at once."

Y/n relaxed slightly at Oscar’s reassurance, but their concerns still lingered on their face. “That’s good to hear, but it’s still not enough for me. I need more than just words. I need some kind of proof that you’re serious about our future together.”

Oscar, now clearly irritated, threw his hands up in desperation. “What more assurance do you need? I just told you that I see a future with you and that I love you. What else could you possibly want from me? A written guarantee? A legal contract?”

Y/n, equally frustrated, shot back with an aggressive tone. “No, I don’t need a written contract. I just need some sort of action, some steps towards making our future together a reality. You keep telling me you’re sure about us, but then you hesitate when it comes to actually making a commitment.”

The argument continued to escalate, both Y/n and Oscar becoming more frustrated and emotional. Y/n’s voice continued to raise, their words now filled with frustration and hurt. “I can’t believe you’re still making excuses. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who wants to take our relationship to the next level. You keep stalling, and it makes me question if you really want to marry me at all!”

Oscar, in his frustration and anger, snapped back with a hurtful remark. “You know what, if you keep acting like this, maybe I won’t marry you at all! At least I'll be free from you and your stupid neediness!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. The pain and shock on Y/N’s face were evident, and he knew he had crossed a line.

Y/n stood up from the sofa, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "Fine, if that's really what you want, then it won't happen. If you don't see a future with me, if you don't want to marry me, then there's nothing more to discuss."

Y/n, moving with purpose, made her way to the bedroom. There, she hastily grabbed a suitcase from the closet and began stuffing it with clothes and essentials. A sense of anger and determination filled her actions, her emotions still heightened from the argument.

Meanwhile, Oscar followed behind, trying to stop Y/n form leaving. He entered the bedroom and pleaded with her, his voice filled with regret and desperation. "Where are you going? You can't just leave like this!"

Y/n snapped back at him, her voice still angry and strained. "I can and I will. You just made it clear that you don't see a future with me. What am I supposed to do? Stay and keep hoping that someday you'll change your damn mind?!"

Oscar, his emotions conflicting, tried to find the words to convince Y/n to stay. "I didn't mean it. I was just so frustrated and angry, I didn't what I was saying. Please, don't go. We need to talk this through."

Y/n, who was still packing her suitcase, paused for a moment to look at Oscar. "There's nothing more to talk about. You said what you said, and I heard it loud and clear. You don't see a future with me, so what's the fucking point?"

Pausing once more in the midst of packing, looked directly at Oscar. "When we first started dating, I made it clear that I wanted to settle down one day. I was upfront about my expectations, and you knew what I wanted. Yet, here we are, years later, and you're still not ready for that commitment.

Oscar, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration, responded defensively. "I know I haven't been ready yet, but I told you I need more time. That doesn't mean I never want to marry you. It just means I'm not ready right now."

Y/n, now fully packing their suitcase, shot back with a hint of sarcasm. "Right, because waiting endlessly for you to make up your mind is so fun. You've had years, Oscar. How much more time do you need? A decade? A lifetime?"

Oscar, starting to get frustrated again, tried to defend himself. "You're acting like I'm doing this on purpose! I'm not stalling or avoiding the issue. I just need more time to figure things out. I have to be sure about such a big commitment!"

Y/n zipped up her suitcase, expression hard and uncompromising. "Spare me the excuses, Oscar. You've had ample time to reflect and consider. And here I am, still waiting for you to make a move. Your inability to make a decision speaks volumes, and I refuse to continue wasting my time, hoping for something you're not even ready to give."

Y/n, now walking out of the bedroom with suitcase in tow, was stopped in her tracks by Oscar's gentle yet firm on her free wrist. As she turned to look at him, he called out to her with a pleading tone. "Baby, wait. Don't go. Let's talk about this. Please."

Y/n looked him in the eye with a mixture of hurt and anger. "Don't call me 'baby'. You don't get to use endearments on me now. You lost that privilege when you made it clear that you don't see me as someone worth committing to."

Oscar, realizing his mistake in using the endearment, looked at Y/n with a remorse and desperation. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you that. I'm just trying to get you to stay and talk to me about this."

Y/n shook her head, her expression still firm and determined. "No, I'm done talking. I'm done waiting. You had your chance to discuss this, and you dismissed it. I don't want to hear any more excuses or apologies right now. I need space."

Oscar, growing increasingly worried, pleaded with Y/n once more. "Please, don't go. This is the same old argument we've had before, but we've always worked through it. Let's take a break, cool off, and come back to this later."

"Exactly!" Y/n's voice is laced with frustration and exhaustion. "We keep pushing this issue aside, hoping it'll resolve itself. But it never does!" she says, tears starting to fall in between sobs. "Instead, it just becomes a bigger problem each time we avoid it. We can't avoid this conversation forever, and it's tearing me apart."

Y/n, determined to leave despite Oscar’s efforts to hold her back, breaks free from his grip and walks towards the door.

Oscar, watching her walk away, calls out to her pleadingly. "Please, don’t go. We can work this out, can’t we? You can’t just leave without resolving this."

Y/n, standing at the door with suitcase in hand, responds with a mix of determination and pain. "You’re right. There won’t be anything to resolve if there’s nothing left between us. And right now, it feels like there’s nothing left to salvage."

Oscar, panicked and desperate, tries one last effort to make her stay. "No, don’t say that! We have years together, a life built together. You can’t throw it all away just like that."

Y/n, her voice tinged with hurt and bitterness, answers with a sharp response. "When you said you don’t feel free around me, it felt like a slap in the face. As if being with me is some kind of prison sentence to you. So maybe it’s better if you are free, without me in the picture."

Y/n opens the door, her steps resolute and determined. Without looking back, she walks out and slams the door shut behind her. Oscar, left alone in the apartment, stands frozen in place, the sound of the door slamming echoing in his ears.

February 12, 2027

Three years have passed since Y/n left, and she has found herself in a different place, both geographically and emotionally. She has moved from Monaco to France, and is now living in a cozy apartment with her roommate, Alexandra.

Y/n and Alexandra are folding laundry and chatting away in the living room, enjoying each other's company. Suddenly, Y/n's phone buzzes, signaling an incoming call. She glances at the screen to see that it's her cousin calling.

Y/n, spotting the caller ID "lily 💗", excuses herself from the conversation with Alexandra. She picks up the phone, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Hey, what's up?"

Lily, sounding excited on the other end of the line, wastes no time in telling her the news. "Hey, guess what? I'm getting married! And I'd really love it if you could come to the wedding. It wouldn't be the same without you here!"

A smile spreads across Y/n's face as she listens to her cousin's cheerful announcement. She feels a mix of joy and surprise. "Oh my goodness, that's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you. Of course, I'd love to be there for your wedding. It's going to be a beautiful occasion. Have you set a date yet?"

Her cousin, still beaming with happiness, replies warmly. "Yes, we have! We're getting married in two months, at a beautiful venue here in Monte Carlo. It's going to be a wonderful celebration. I can't wait for you to be there with me."

Y/n's cousin, continuing the conversation, extends a special invitation. "Oh, and by the way, I wanted to ask you something else. Would you do me the honor of being my maid of honor? It would mean the world to me if you were by my side on my special day."

She feels a wave of warmth and appreciation at her cousin's request. She quickly responds with enthusiasm. "Oh my goodness, of course I'll be your maid of honor! It would be my absolute honor to stand by your side on your wedding day. I'm so touched that you asked me."

Her cousin lets out a happy sigh, feeling relieved and delighted at Y/n's acceptance. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so glad you said yes. I can already imagine us having so much fun during the preparations and on the big day. You're going to be the best maid of honor ever!"

She rejoins Alexandra in the living room, her expression a mix of joy and excitement. "Sorry, that was my cousin. She's getting married apparently? She asked me to be her maid of honor too!"

Alexandra, hearing the exciting news, lights up with delight. "Oh, that's fantastic! Congratulations to the both of you!" she says, clapping lightly. "Being a maid of honor is such a special role. When's the big day?"

Y/n's voice brims with anticipation as she responds. "In two months, it'll be in Monte Carlo."

Alexandra, curious to know more about Y/n's cousin and her fiancé, poses a question with a tone of intrigue. "That sounds wonderful! So who's the lucky groom?"

Y/n opens her mouth before slowly closing it. "You know, I just realized, I don't actually know..." she replies sheepishly.

The two girls sit in awkward silence for a few moments before bursting out laughing. Y/n can finally say that she feels happy. At least, way happier than she was with Oscar.

April 26, 2027 | Chapel

The long awaited wedding day, and the setting couldn't more picturesque. The venue is adorned with elegant decorations, and Y/n stands by chapel doors, ready to walk down the aisle alongside the best man and to see the groom for the very first time.

Y/n, in her satin green dress, is arm in arm with Lando, the best man (who she met a week ago). They make their way up to the altar, and as her eyes scan the surroundings, something catches her eye. She turns her gaze towards the altar, and there she sees the groom awaiting his bride.

As the groom turns around to face the aisle, Y/n's heart skips a beat. There, standing at the altar, is Oscar, her ex-boyfriend. Y/n feels a mix of shock and disbelief. Lily is getting married to Oscar.

Oscar, caught off guard by the sight of Y/n, manages to keep his composure despite the surprise. His eyes go wide with realization, but he quickly masks his emotions and turns his attention back to the altar.

Lando, feeling Y/n's grip on his arm tighten ever so slightly, turns his attention to her with concern. He senses something is amiss and leans in slightly to inquire in a low whisper. "Hey, is everything alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Y/n, struggling to find her words, manages to compose herself enough to respond to Lando's question. "I'm... I'm fine." she mutters, forcing a smile. "Don't worry about it. Let's just focus on the ceremony right now. I'll explain everything later if we have time."

Lando, sensing Y/n's unease, nods in understanding but keeps a watchful eye on her throughout the ceremony. He feels there's more to it than meets the eye, but he decides to respect her request to wait until later to explain.

The processional draws to a close as Lily walks down the aisle, looking stunning in her snowy white dress. Y/n, unable to help herself, steals a glance at Oscar, who stands at the altar, his eyes filled with awe as he gazes at the bride- his bride, in all her splendor. There's a mix of shock and a tinge of melancholy in Y/n's expression as she observes him.

Her thoughts race through her mind as she stands alongside the other bridesmaids. She watches Oscar at the altar, his eyes fixated on Lily, and a sudden pang of bittersweetness washes over her. In that moment, she can't help but wonder if this is what it would've been if she and Oscar had gotten married, if they would've worked it out. A mixture of nostalgia and melancholy fills her heart as she contemplates what could have been.

Her inner turmoil intensifies as she struggles to reconcile her current circumstances with the memory of the dreams and aspirations she once had with Oscar. The weight of the unspoken emotions between them hangs heavily in the air, and split second, Y/n finds herself caught in a whirlwind of "what if?" scenarios before she snaps back to reality, reminding herself of the reasons that led them down separate paths. The same reasons that led them to this day.

Lily reaches the altar, and Oscar assists her with her beautiful gown, his hands gently arranging the fabric. In the process, their eyes meet for a fraction of a second, and the intensity of that brief glance nearly brings tears to her eyes. The connection, though fleeting, stirs a mix of emotions within her, bringing back memories and longing she thought she had buried in the past.

Unable to bear the weight of Oscar's gaze any longer, Y/n averts her eyes, feigning the need to fuss with her own gown. She busies herself with adjusting her attire, using the action as a guise to avoid looking at Oscar, who stands just a few steps from her. She tries to mask the turmoil within her, hoping no one notices the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface.

Oscar tears his gaze away from Y/n and redirects his focus to his bride. A genuine, radiant smile illuminates his face, and in that moment, Y/n realizes that she has never seen him smile quite like that before. The smile is wide, full of joy and contentment. Y/n can't help but feel a sharp pang in her heart.

The sight of Oscar's unabashed happiness with his bride strikes a chord deep within Y/n. It awakened a mix of sorrow, regret, and a hint of resignation. She understands that his smile, while beautiful, is no longer hers to witness. The reality of their broken relationship, and the different paths they've taken, is now undeniable, and the weight of that realization settles heavily on her heart.

The mixture of emotions in the air is palpable as Y/n stans beside the other bridesmaids, her eyes till fixated on Oscar and the bride. She can't help but feel a jumble of sadness, envy, and acceptance, witnessing the unfolding scene in front of her. The moment seems to stretch on, each second reminding her of what could have been.

The ceremony continues, and as the moment arrives for Oscar to kiss his bride, the air catches in Y/n's throat. Y/n, along with all the guests gathered, watches as the newly weds lock lips, sealing their union in a heartfelt kiss. Y/n's heart clenches as she longs to be the one standing with Oscar, to be the one he's kissing.

Their kiss seems to last an eternity, each second a poignant reminder of the love that Oscar now shares with someone else. Y/n's eyes are fixed on the couple, her heart wallowing in sorrow and acceptance. The realization that she is no longer a part of Oscar's future washes over her, and she finds herself in the same bittersweet feeling that she found all those years ago.

Y/n, although her heart is heavy, knows she has no choice but to join in the applause. She raises her hands and claps along with the guests. Her hands come together in a rhythmic applause, the sound blending with the collective joy and celebration around her. Inside, her heart is aching, but on the outside, she manages to maintain a semblance of composure, hiding the storm of emotions within her.

April 27, 2027 | Reception

Time swiftly moves forward to the reception. Lando, as the best man, steps up to the podium, ready to deliver his speech. The room falls silent, and all eyes turn to him, waiting to hear his words. Lando takes a deep breath before starting, his voice filled with a mix of humor, warmth, and genuine affection for the couple.

Lando begins his best man speech with a warm smile, his eyes flickering across the guests. "Good evening, everyone. I feel incredibly honored to be standing here as the best man for this beautiful couple. Today we gather to celebrate love, commitment, and the beginning of a new journey for our newlyweds, Lily and Oscar. I've known Oscar for a long time, and I can confidently say that I've never seen him as happy as he is today, all thanks to the incredible woman sitting beside him."

As Lando continues with his speech, Y/n sits in her chair, listening intently. The mention of Oscar being the happiest he's ever been makes her chest tighten, as though an invisible weight is pressing down on her heart. The reality that Oscar has found true happiness with someone else, the very thing Y/n had once hoped to provide for him, is a bitter pill to swallow.

Y/n, lost in her thoughts, zones out during the last part of Lando's speech. The words around her turn into a blur, and she becomes unaware of the speech's conclusion. Her mind is preoccupied with the barrage of emotions swirling inside her, and she finds herself in a state of partial detachment from the ongoing celebration.

Lando, sensing that Y/n was lost in thought, gently places his hand on her shoulder. This gesture snaps her back to reality, and she becomes aware of the room around her again. Seeing her jolt slightly, he gazes at her with a compassionate glance. "Hey, it's your turn to give a speech."

Her heart rate quickens as she realizes it's her turn to give the speech, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. She glances around the room, the weight of the moment settling heavily on her shoulders.

Y/n slowly walks up to the podium, her steps deliberate and measured. As she stands in front of the microphone, she can feel the eyes of gathered guests fixed on her, waiting for her words.

She stands behind the podium, taking a moment to collect herself before speaking. With a mixture of joy, love, and disbelief, she begins her speech.

She starts, "Good evening, everyone. For those who may not know me, I’m Y/n, the bride’s cousin, but truly, we’ve always been like sisters. Standing here today, I feel a flood of emotions - joy, love, and perhaps just a hint of disbelief that this day has finally come."

Y/n continues, "You see, when we were children, Lily and I would often engage in 'wedding' games. We'd don makeshift wedding veils made from pillowcases and fiercely argue over who would get to be the bride. It was a serious matter for us back then, and more often than not, we’d ultimately settle on her being the bride. According to her, she just 'looked more like one.' Well, Lily, I have to admit, you were absolutely right—because here you are today, looking stunning, more beautiful and radiant than I could have ever imagined."

Her voice is a mixture of warmth and sentimentality as she continues her speech. "It’s fascinating how childhood dreams have a way of becoming reality, and yet, it’s even more astonishing to witness how you’ve grown into the remarkable woman standing before us now. Over the years, I’ve watched you navigate the ups and downs of life with such grace, and today, as you marry Oscar, my heart swells with happiness for you both."

In the midst of her speech, Y/n’s eyes inadvertently meet Oscar’s, and a wave of emotions courses through her. The weight of the moment, combined with her feelings for Oscar, causes tears to well up in her eyes, making it increasingly difficult to continue speaking.

She pauses, attempting to blink back the tears that threaten to spill. Clearing her throat lightly, she tries to push through the momentary emotional wave that has struck her. The pain in her heart is evident, but she forces a smile, determined to complete her speech with a semblance of composure.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n collects herself and presses on with her speech, "While I’m brimming with joy for you both, I must admit I feel a tinge of bittersweetness, for today marks the beginning of a new chapter in your life — a chapter where you start your own family. But if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that no matter how life changes, no matter where you go, we’ll always be as close as we’ve been."

Y/n steals another quick glance in Oscar's direction before continuing. Her emotions are still close to the surface, but she plows on, speaking with a mixture of bittersweet happiness and nostalgia.

"You’re not just my cousin; you’re my sister, and this connection we share is something that will forever remain unchanged. So here’s to the both of you. May your love be as strong and lasting as our bond has been all these years. And Lily, if this day proves anything, it’s that you were always destined to be the bride." she says, wiping away her tears with a small handkerchief Lando handed her.

As Y/n completes her speech, her eyes inadvertently find their way back to Oscar. The gaze she gives him mirrors the one she had when they parted ways three years ago. The pain, the longing, and the unresolved emotions are all still there, making her next words more strained.

With her gaze still fixed on Oscar, Y/n struggles to keep her emotions in check as she continues her speech, her voice trembling slightly. Despite the ache in her heart, she forces a smile, her words now directed towards Oscar.

"And to Oscar, I hope you enjoy growing old with her as much as I enjoyed growing up with her." Each word feels like a dagger to her heart, but she finishes her speech, the pain in her eyes reflecting the depth of her unspoken feelings.

Y/n, fighting to maintain her composure, finally comes to the end of her speech. Her voice wavers slightly as she utters her final words. "A toast! To Lily and Oscar!"

Her words hang in the air, a bittersweet sentiment that lingers in the room. The guests raise their glasses in agreement, blissfully unaware of the turmoil within Y/n.

Lily, moved by Y/n's heartfelt speech, stands up and embraces her cousin in a tight hug. But while Lily basks in the moment, blissfully unaware of the pain her happiness is causing Y/n, the latter can only focus on Oscar, her eyes filling with tears as she gazes at him. The raw emotions bubbling beneath the surface seem to intensify, and it takes all her strength to hold back the floodgates.

April 27, 2027 | After the Reception

The reception has come to an end, and the hotel lobby is relatively quiet at this late hour. Lando, getting ready to head out, spots Y/n standing in the corner, holding her crumpled gown in one hand and her phone in the other. He approaches her with a concerned expression.

"Hey," Lando says softly, standing beside Y/n. His voice is gentle, tinged with concern as he looks at her. "Are you alright? You seem a bit... off?"

Y/n glances up at Lando, her expression weary. The emotional toll of the evening is evident on her face. She forces a small smile, trying to appear okay. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she replies, her voice slightly strained. "Just a bit tired, you know."

Lando can sense that Y/n isn't being completely honest, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead, he offers her two options. "You sure you're okay? You can always crash at my place if you want," he suggests. "Or, if you're up for it, we could go for a drive. Whatever you prefer."

Y/n ponders for a moment, weighing her options. Finally, she decides to take Lando up on his offer for a drive.

"A drive sounds good," she says, her voice slightly weary but also filled with a hint of relief. "Lead the way."

With a nod, Lando leads the way towards his car, parked outside the hotel. He unlocks the door, takes her gown, and gestures for her to get in. Once they're both settled in the car, Lando starts the engine and begins driving.

The silent drive envelops them, its quietness only interrupted by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of passing cars. Both Lando and Y/n seem weary, the evening's events taking their toll on them.

Lando glances over at Y/n periodically, noting the fatigue etched on her face.

He drives them to an empty beach, where only the signs of life are a few stray cats and dogs sleeping beneath a nearby bridge. The beach is mostly deserted, and the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore adds a soothing atmosphere to the surroundings.

He parks the car and shuts off the engine, the sudden silence feeling both peaceful and surreal at the same time.

Lando gets out of the car and opens the trunk. He rummages through it, pulling out two bottles of beer. He closes the trunk and walks over to where Y/n is standing, holding the bottles in one hand.

"Wanna share a cold one?" he asks, offering her one of the bottles.

As Lando hands Y/n a bottle, she glances at him with a puzzled expression on her face, her confusion evident. "You just happen to have cold beer in your trunk?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Lando laughs at her questions and explains, shrugging his shoulders. "Nah, I don't keep beers in my car!" he says, chuckling. "It was supposed to be for the wedding, in case we ran out. You know how weddings can be."

Y/n nods in agreement and requests a bottle opener. Lando pats his pockets, searching for one. After a moment, he pulls out a small, multi-purpose tool from his pocket that serves as a bottle opener.

"Can I?" he says, gesturing for her to hand him the beer.

Y/n thanks him and hands her bottle to him, waiting for to him to open his bottle. As he uses it to pop the lids off both bottles with a satisfying fizzing sound, she takes her bottle and watches the foam settle on the top of the liquid.

Lando closes the trunk and follows Y/n down to the sand. They walk down in silence, the soft sound of their footsteps blending with the gentle rhythmic crashing of the waves.

The cool night air wraps around them, offering a refreshing reprieve from the day’s festivities. The soft light of the stars and the moon casts a gentle glow over the beach, making the surrounding area appear almost magical.

As they reach a spot on the beach and sit down, Lando takes a sip of his beer and sets the bottle down in the sand. He glances over at Y/n, his expression curious. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he says.

Y/n looks up at Lando, her expression open. “Sure, what is it?” she responds, her curiosity piqued by his inquiry.

Lando takes another sip of his drink before continuing. “When we were standing there, right before you were supposed to give the speech, you started acting kinda strange. I’m just wondering… did something happen?”

He pauses for a moment, the memory of their walk down the aisle surfacing in his mind. His tone becomes concerned and inquisitive. “And when we were walking down the aisle, you seemed… I don’t know, kinda on edge too. Did something happen back there or…”

Y/n sighs heavily, knowing she can’t avoid the question any longer. She gazes out at the ocean, the weight of her emotions visible in her expression. “I guess you noticed that something was up after all,” she says, her voice tinged with a hint of regret. “It’s a long story, Lan.”

Lando looks at Y/n, giving her a reassuring smile. “You know what? We’ve got all the time in the world right now, it’s just you and me.” he says, his voice gentle and inviting. “And I’m all ears if you need to talk about whatever is bothering you.”

Y/n feels a mix of emotions, knowing that Lando is willing to listen to her and that she can finally open up about what’s been bothering her. She takes a deep breath, her voice slightly shaky as she begins to tell her story.

“Okay… So I guess I should start by telling you that Oscar is my ex-boyfriend.” She sighs, feeling the weight of her words settle over her.

As Y/n drops the revelation about Oscar being her ex, Lando’s response is somewhat unexpected— his beer goes up his nose, causing him to cough and splutter lightly. Y/n stifles a laugh, finding a brief moment of humor amidst the intensity of their conversation.

“Hey,” she giggles playfully, “you okay there?” Lando clears his throat, wiping away the remnants of his beer mishap.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he laughs, his eyes still watering slightly. “I just… did not expect that detail?”

They both laugh softly, and the moment of levity helps to alleviate some of the tension hanging in the air.

Y/n takes a deep breath, regaining her composure, and going on with her story. “Long story short, things didn’t end well between us… I guess seeing him again as the groom, all dressed up and looking ready to start a new chapter in his life, well, it just hit me pretty hard,” she confesses, the sadness and lingering pain evident in her voice.

Y/n takes a moment to gather her thoughts, summoning the courage to share the painful truth. “The main reason we ended things was because he wasn’t ready to settle down. He didn’t want what I want— commitment, a future together, you know? It hurt, but I had to respect his decision.” Her voice trails off, memories of their breakup flooding her mind, stinging her again.

The mention of Oscar’s reluctance to commit triggers a painful memory for Y/n, causing her eyes to cloud with a mix of sadness and longing. “And now, seeing stand there, so ready to marry someone else, with the biggest smile on his face… It’s like my hope of us being together has been shattered all over again.”

Her laughter is tinged with bitterness, the irony of the situation not lost on her. “To make matters worse, it just had to be my cousin, right? Like some sort of fucking soap opera. I mean, what are the odds of that?” Y/n muses, shaking her head slightly.

Seeing the sadness etched on Y/n’s face, Lando can’t help but feel empathy for her situation. He reaches out, gently placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, his touch conveying a silent understanding.

As Lando reaches out and touches her shoulder with a comforting gesture, Y/n feels a wave of gratitude towards him. She looks at him and forces a small smile, appreciating his support.

“Thank you, Lan,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… hard to see him so happy with someone else when I still have feelings for him- well, I thought I didn’t love him anymore, I thought I had moved on, but seeing him today… it just brought everything back.”

Hearing Y/n’s words, Lando clears his throat, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Y’know, Y/n, it’s completely understandable that you feel this way. Seeing an ex move on can be incredibly difficult, especially when you’re still clinging to those lingering feelings and hopes of what could have been.

He pauses, considering his words carefully. “Maybe it’s time for you to actually let go and move forward. Leave the past behind.”

In the midst of their conversation, a small tabby kitten suddenly appears and jumps into Y/n’s lap, surprising the both of them. The sudden appearance of the kitten seems to momentarily distract them from their heavy discussion.

“Whoa, where did you come from, little one?” Y/n exclaims with a surprised laugh, as she gently pets the kittens fur.

Lando chuckles and remarks, “Y’know, they say cats are surprisingly good at sensing emotions. It must have sensed your sadness, Y/n. They can absorb negative vibes like little fluffy energy absorbers.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile at Lando’s explanation, the idea of the cat absorbing her sadness somehow comforting. “That makes sense, I guess. It’s kind of sweet, in a way,” she muses, continuing to pet the kitten which responds with a soft purr. “Maybe this kitty will absorb all of these painful emotions and turn them to into something positive.”

As if sensing the conversation, the kitten nuzzles against Y/n’s hand, it’s purring growing louder, sending gentle vibrations throughout her fingers. The warmth and innocence of the moment provide a brief respite from her emotional turmoil.

Y/n chuckles, but her laughter is tinged with bitterness. She looks down at the kitten in her lap. "I realized something earlier. I'm always be the bridesmaid, and never the bride. It’s like my destiny is to always be the supporting character in someone else’s love story, not the one who gets their own happy ending."

She sighs softly, a mixture of resignation and disappointment in her voice. “I never thought that I’d be that cliché— the forever bridesmaid, never finding true love. Yet here I am, witnessing it all unfold in front of me.”

Lando locks eyes with Y/n, his gaze sincere and filled with a hint of something more than just friendly concern. “Love has a mysterious way of hiding in the most unexpected places. Maybe… the person you’re looking for is right in front of you, and you just need to open your eyes to see it.”

His words hang in the air, leaving them both pondering the possibility of love closer than they think.

masterlist

taglist:

@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

[abiatackerman]

Daddy's little rival

The sun spills through the half-drawn curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You're nestled between Levi's legs, your back against his chest, and his lips trace delicate patterns along your neck. His breath is a gentle promise against your skin, and you can't help but moan softly. A rare, unguarded sound that belongs only to moments like this.

But life has a way of barging in uninvited.

The door swings open abruptly, and your son pouts looking at you both.

"It's not fair, mommy! It's a weekend and you're playing with daddy, not me! He's not a brat! He doesn't need you to play with him."

You chuckle as you see your son's jealous eyes. He is a perfect mix of genetics. His black hair, blue-grey eyes, and pale skin are from Levi while his cute, slightly rounded features are from you.

"Your mom is mine."

As Levi speaks, he gently kisses your neck while he keeps staring at his son… Trying to get the little tyke rile up.

"Stop teasing your son."

You chuckle as you nudge Levi a little. You smile looking at your son's pouty cute face and open your arms.

"Come to mommy, dear."

Before you can even finish your sentence, your son runs towards your bed and jumps right into your lap and hugs your waist tightly.

"Are you done with your little tantrum now?"

Levi mutters playfully as he watches his baby get cuddled on by you.

"Hmph…"

Your son mutteres softly. His mood turns from angry to adorable in a second just by being cuddled by you. Like Levi, he is a momma's boy. All it takes one moment for him to start giggling and smiling if you're around. Levi can't help but smile at the sight.

"You're just like your dad. You've got his every single behaviour..."

You chuckle as you caress your son's hair. He grumbles in your chest making you laugh. He doesn't like to be compared with his dad. Not even a little.

Levi tilts his head and watches as his son squirming.

"What's wrong? Scared of being daddy's lil twin?"

He teases, which only seems to make his son even more frustrated.

"Stooooop…."

Your son mutters as he lifts his head up and glares at his dad with a frown. His eyes, which are just as beautiful as Levi’s, seem to glare right into Levi’s heart.

"Hey hey hey... Your daddy is humanity's strongest soldier, don't forget that. You should be proud that you've got his strength and attitude... "

You say patting your son's head.

"That's not something you should be proud of, he's just a grumpy old man!"

Your son mutters playfully sticking his tongue at Levi.

"I think he has a bit of an attitude problem. Maybe you're spoiling him too much, he's becoming cranky…"

Levi speaks in the same playful tone as his son and flicks his son's head.

"Tch! I'm not cranky!"

There the little tyke goes again. Acting exactly like his dad. A mini Levi. His cheeks puffed out as he pouts at his dad.

"Whatever, come here brat. Your mom needs to cook. Today's weekend and we're gonna enjoy a delicious dinner cooked by mommy, right? Also it's time for your after lunch lap. Come on."

Your son grumbles in a grumpy tone, but Levi pulls him along anyway. Despite his initial reluctance, your son can't help but be drawn into Levi's arms. As he tickles jis son, your son bursts into laughter. You watch from the doorway, heart swelling with warmth, as father and son share this precious moment. You close the door behind you, leaving them to their own time together.

You know both of them will fall asleep within 30 minutes. Levi will hug his son protectively and your son will cuddle against Levi's chest while they'll sleep.

This is the regular weekend routine of your little Ackerman family.

[countingstars-17]

GP on his relationship with Max:

"I honestly see Max as a younger brother. We can talk about anything and anyone at any time. We're at the point where we just felt completely relaxed and at ease with each other. Maybe I am speaking out of turn, but I don't think I would have any interest in working with another driver now. Having had the success that we have enjoyed together with Max, I don't think it would be fair on another driver, to try and replicate what we have achieved with Max."

Max on his relationship with GP:

"I have said to him I only work with him. As soon as he stops, I stop too. We get along really well and we know exactly what we want from each other, which way we want to go. Our relationship is more like a marriage. We just have to determine who is the husband and who is the wife. Sometimes we're screaming and shouting a little bit at each other, but it's good."

[tactfullyinappropriate]

Ohhh boy, I'm gonna get a lot of flak for this one but... masc lesbian =/= butch. You can be the most masculine presenting person the world has ever known and that does not automatically make you butch.

Butch is an identity and you kinda need to fit that identity, not make the identity fit you. E.g. "lesbians" who are attracted to cishet men. Sorry, hun, you're just not a lesbian. Find your own identity that fits. You are allowed to be your own kind of bisexual or pansexual but what you are not, is a lesbian.

Sure, there is a lot of room for being your own person within an identity. I am not the same kind of lesbian as the next dyke. But if I did not fit (or if I no longer fit) the definition of the lesbian identity, I wouldn't call myself one and insist that lesbians expand the definition to include me.

'Butch' as an identity exists within a certain context. It *is not* a synonym to man, and it's also not a synonym to 'a masculine presenting lesbian'. If you don't vibe with the whole 'chivalry' concept and the specific ways in with butch/femme courtship (as an example) happens, maybe consider if this is the right label for you before insisting that we expand or rather completely rewrite the definition to exclude those things from it.

Some of the discourse around 'we should redefine butch!' reminds me of the discourse around redefining manhood. "It's not fair that men are expected to have masculine hobbies," they say. "It's not fair that men cannot wear glitter and makeup and retain their manhood. It's not fair that men are expected to open doors, and carry heavy things, and to-to---" Yes. You are exactly right. But butches are not men.

'Butch' is an opt-in identity, not something that society at large expects and requires from you. In other words: if you think femmes gushing about being courted by their butches in what to you appears to be a 1960s play-pretend of patriarchy, is silly, objectifying or demeaning toward one of the parties... consider that maybe 'butch' is not the identity for you. That maybe you are a masculine person with their own unique take on masculinity.

But insisting that we redefine butch is like me insisting that we redefine 'yoga' because I vibe with the gymnastics but I don't like the spiritual aspect of it. I can just go to Pilates instead. Or do yoga and accept that other people in the practice experience it differently.

What I am endlessly tired of, as a femme, is being lectured on what I *should* and *should not* find attractive. I am not somehow betraying feminism, objectifying people and degrading myself by daydreaming of a butch who opens the car door for me or - the absolute horror - brings me flowers on a date. I recognize that other people have the right to their own attraction and that masculine lesbians deserve the freedom to explore masculinity on their own terms and be treated with dignity and respect regardless of where that exploration takes them and regardless of who does or does not find them attractive.

That being said, the whole narrative of 'if you find chivalry hot, then you are objectifying butches and you are, in fact, an entitled selfish person' is tiresome. Not all femmes are women but in being chastised for our turn-ons and romantic daydreams (unless we're the Cool Girl who doesn't like flowers and rolls her eyes at romance) I see a lot of the admonishment directed toward cis straight women who dare to swoon when they read romance where the male lead is courteous and generous.

Except, again, butch/femme *is not* man/woman. It's a particular subculture within the lesbian identity and no one is pressuring anyone into conforming to it.

[kookxmira]

Workaholic 1 | Jeon Jungkook

"tell me baby, how was the kiss?"

smut

ceo!jungkook x wife!reader

summary : how’s the best way to tell your husband his enemy kissed you? while he’s fucking you.

WARNING : kissing, begging, penetration, rough sex, manhandling, doggy style, missionary, degradation, squirting

word count : 3.6k

part 2

-

you hardly remember the last time you dressed this beautifully, wearing a tight red dress that accentuates your curves in all the right places.

you don't have a reason to look this good anymore, but now that you're all dressed up, you miss it.

you were eager to show your husband the dress, but work is keeping him busy again tonight.

you wish he could've been here. you wish you were slow dancing with him and kissing his lips, but instead, you're drowning down your fourth cup of wine.

"hey," a voice calls from behind, pulling you out of your drunken haze.

you turn your head, checking to see who the voice belongs to, and in that very moment, your heart skips a thunderous beat.

"hi..." you greet back.

feeling apprehensive, you instinctively reach for your purse to prepare your leave, but minho speaks before you can.

"you should stay. a little company wouldn't hurt right?" he suggests.

caught in a slight dilemma, you hesitate on what to do. should you engage in a conversation with your husband's enemy or walk away?

you know it should've been the latter, but your feet stay in place.

"where's your husband?" minho inquires, scanning the crowd with a mischievous glint.

"he's busy with work," you reply. you see the small smile appear on his lips before he looks back at you.

"since we're both alone, how about a dance?" he says, placing a hand on top of yours.

oh.

surprised by his request, you quickly remove your hand from underneath his. of course the obvious answer is no. how could you possibly dance with someone your husband despises?

"no thank you," you reply gently.

minho's eyes twinkle as he looks you up and down, licking his lip.

"you're wearing this beautiful dress and you're not even going to dance?... don't be lame."

you'll admit, it look you a while to find a dress this perfect and that's because you were only doing it for jungkook.

it really is a shame he couldn't make it.

"us? together? i just don't think that would be a good idea," you insist, shaking your head.

"because of your husband?"

"yes, exactly." that should've been obvious from the start.

"but he's not here.." minho smirks, leaning his head to get a better look at your face.

"that makes it worse," you retort with a raised brow, coming to final terms that his intentions aren't as pure you tried to make them to be.

"i just can't help it... i think you look absolutely gorgeous," he compliments.

caught off guard, you avoid eye contact. "oh. well, thank you," you mutter.

you're just confused. you have no idea why he's talking to you.

"if you were my wife, i promise you would never have be alone," minho states in a lower tone, inching closer to you "i would treat you better than your husband."

you quickly move away from him, creating a safe distance as you shake your head.

"jungkook does treat me right," you state firmly, a hint of defensiveness in your voice.

"a true gentlemen would know if his women was feeling lonely," minho tells you. "your body yearns for the attention of your husband, but he can't satisfy you. no, he can't do that."

"that's not true," you step in defensively.

"he's only busy with work and although he doesn't have time for me, i still love him," you add.

"but does he love you?"

you hesitate..

"he does love me," you mutter, averting your gaze to the abandoned wine on the table.

it reminds you of jungkook. it reminds you of the reason why you started drinking again after many years of cutting it out of your life.

minho's smirk deepens at your change of expression.

lost in your thoughts, you fail to the notice the hunger of his gaze fixated on your lips.

"to be fair.." minho continues, his voice softening as he gets closer, "it's common for husbands to grow bored of their wives, even if they're as beautiful as you."

before you have the chance to react, minho's lips smash onto yours in a sudden unwelcome kiss. you instinctively push him away as you stand up abruptly.

"minho!" you exclaim, voice drowned out by the blasting music that fills the large room.

"hmm, better than i thought. cherry lip gloss?" he retorts, a malicious smirk playing on his lips.

a mix of disgust, guilt, and anger courses through your body and slowly, you begin step backwards, unaware of the sudden presence behind you. just as you teeter on the edge of a small step, a pair of arms catch you before you fall.

"are you alright?" taehyung's concerned voice fills your ears.

although surprised by his unexpected appearance, you're relieved as you nod at his question.

without any hesitation, he drags you away to a quieter corner near the entrance.

"why were you talking to him?" taehyung questions, his voice laced with a mix of worry and confusion.

taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you try to gather your thoughts. everything had just escalated so quickly.

"i... don't know," you mutter softly.

you're aware that engaging in a conversation with minho is strictly forbidden, a rule repeatedly told by both jungkook and taehyung.

"i never intended for anything to happen. i.. don't know what I was thinking," you confess.

"i saw him kiss you," taehyung sighs, rubbing his forehead. "i know that's not your fault, but don't ever, and I mean it y/n. don't ever talk to him again," he says sternly.

"okay," you softly reply.

"don't be angry at me, but i actually told jungkook to come and pick you up," taehyung reveals, and your eyes widen from panic.

"he texted me and asked if you were here because he noticed you weren't home," he adds.

dang it.

feeling slightly overwhelmed by everything that's happened with minho, and now with what's going to happen with jungkook, you sigh in distress.

"he's here," taehyung announces and your heart jumps at the news as you quickly straighten your posture.

as your husband approaches, you notice him engrossed in a phone call, and you nervously gulp down the lump in your throat.

"thanks for texting hyung," jungkook says before firmly grabbing a hold of your wrist. you're unable to give taehyung a proper goodbye as you're dragged out of the door.

once you reach the car, jungkook opens the door for you, a stern look in his eyes.

"get in the car," jungkook commands, his tone telling you that he doesn't care about your explanation as of right now.

he ends the phone call, telling his secretary he won't be available for the rest of the night before he drives off.

"wanna tell me why you snuck out?" he asks, a small tinge of anger in his tone.

you understand why he's upset. after all you lied about going to sleep early and then snuck out. and lying has never been an issue in your guy’s relationship.

"i just didn't want to be stuck at home," you reply honestly, nervously biting your lip.

"you still shouldn't have lied to me," jungkook asserts, one hand on the wheel with the other in his lap.

both of you fall silent for a moment, the only sounds permeating the air being the distant hums of passing cars and the rustling wind.

that's until jungkook picks up on the familiar fruity scent in the air, and he furrows a brow.

"were you drinking?" he questions in a mix of concern and disbelief.

a surge of panic hits you, causing your body to tense involuntarily.

"uh. just a bit of wine," you mumble, voice barely audible.

you can see the way jungkook's jaw clenches, frustration building up.

"you always throw up after drinking wine, so why do you keep drinking it?" jungkook scolds sternly.

"i don't throw up anymore," you say, like it's any better.

you know that's not an excuse for drinking, but you're unsure of how to explain yourself right now.

"y/n. it's not just about that, it's about your health," jungkook says frustratedly "we've already had this conversation before."

you close your eyes for a brief second as a soft sigh escapes your lips. you really don't want to argue right now because you already know you're in the wrong for drinking.

at the same time, he pulls up to the driveway and you quickly hop out of the car. you head to your shared bedroom, with jungkook cautiously following behind.

the discomfort of your high heels becomes so unbearable that you almost stumble on the stairs, so you quickly kick them off when you reach the room.

when you step in front of the full-length mirror, you notice your disheveled hair and slightly smudged eyeliner.

you honestly don't know why you even try so hard to look good sometimes when it's all for nothing.

you catch a glimpse of jungkook's reflection in the mirror, his eyes fixated on you, but you choose to ignore it.

he removes his blazer, his movements deliberate before gently encircling your waist and tugging you closer to him.

deciding to admire you instead, he takes a deep breath to let go of his frustration, inhaling your sweet rose scented perfume.

"you look stunning," jungkook compliments, looking you and down through the mirror.

"let me fuck your brains out, yeah?" he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

you take a moment before you respond, gulping down the lump in your throat.

"jungkook, we were just arguing-"

"i need to teach you a lesson," jungkook speaks softly, making you anticipate his next movements.

he abruptly pushes you down, bending you over your makeup table, knocking down and over some products.

"jungkook!" you let out in surprise.

"my beautiful wife needs to be taught a harsh lesson," he says, roughly lifting the tight dress over your ass. "she needs to learn that lying and sneaking out has consequences."

he slaps your ass, hand imprinting on your flesh as you whine from the sting.

"you look so fucking beautiful in this dress," jungkook whispers. "and i'm about to fuck you in it."

he swiftly grabs your arm, turning you around to kiss your pretty lips before he proceeds to push you on the bed with a smile.

"open your pretty legs, baby," he commands, slowly removing the black tie from around his neck.

he takes a seat on the chair in front of you, eyes dark as he waits for you to comply.

"i said open your fucking legs Y/N," he repeats.

you scurry to the top of the bed, gradually spreading your thighs for your husband.

he stands up and slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, his gaze intimate and naughty.

you feel your panties gush with wetness again and bite your lip to refrain yourself from moaning.

"miss my cock huh?" jungkook teases, a smug grin on his face.

although you don't respond, the look on your face explains everything.

he gets rid of his dress pants, his semi-hard cock coming in view as he slowly strokes it up and down while looking at your body.

his cock begins to harden, blue veins becoming prominent.

at the sight, you subconsciously close your legs to get some friction.

"open your legs," jungkook commands again, in irritation.

he watches you struggle to obey as your thighs barely part, slightly rubbing against each other.

he roughly grabs your ankles and swiftly tugs you to end of the bed, forcefully prying your legs open before he slaps your drenched pussy.

"what? i haven't fucked my wife in so long and all the sudden she doesn't know how to follow orders." jungkook shakes his head in disapproval.

"i'm sorry," you mutter.

"i bet you are hmm," he hums, tightening his grip on your neck.

you feel the head of jungkook's cock poke at your entrance and you hold your breath, waiting for him to push all the way in, but he doesn't. he only pushes the head in before pulling back out.

"stop teasing me please," you beg, furrowing your brows in desperation.

all you need is to feel him.

he laughs in delight, enjoying how desperate you are for him.

he then pushes the head of his cock inside you again and pulls out just to hear your cries.

a minute later, he finally pushes all the way in, knocking the air out of your lungs. your mouth falls agape, unable to make a sound as you feel his cock scape against the inside of your tight pussy.

"shit- i feel like i'm fucking a virgin," jungkook voices breathily, forehead coming in contact with yours.

he begins to thrust in and out and you whine, the pleasure making your stomach churn.

"ah fuck-" you finally moan.

jungkook pushes deeper inside you and you gasp, hands coming to touch his pecs as you breath against his lips.

"jungkook, you're so fucking good- fuck" you moan desperately.

"yeah?" he responds teasingly, a handsome smirk on his face.

"hm- you fuck me so good!" you repeat.

jungkook continues to pound your cunt, the tightness of your walls making him go absolutely crazy.

he stares at your fucked-out expression, your red cheeks wet from the tears running down your face.

"fuck- please," you sob, submitting to jungkook just like he wants.

"you dirty- little fucking slut," he says through gritted teeth, feeling his cock become even bigger.

his eyes bounce between the cream on his cock and to your face, unable to decide which one he likes more. he loves both, he wants to see your white cream paint his cock while your alluring face contorts in pleasure.

the sound of the bed hitting the wall becomes louder and he sighs in pleasure, hands tightening around your neck again.

before he can go any further, the ringing of your phone goes off causing jungkook to groan. it takes him a second before he pulls out, leading you to whine at the empty feeling.

"it might be an emergency," he mutters to you before quickly rising off the bed. "stay right there," he instructs.

you do as he says, curiously waiting for him to get your phone while your throbbing pussy begs for attention.

you're unsure of who would be calling you at this hour.

jungkook sighs, retrieving your purse from the nearby table and rummages through it. his eyes land on taehyung's name flashing bright.

raising a brow in question, he walks back over to you and throws your phone on the bed. he nods at it.

"answer the phone."

you grab the device beside you, about to answer, but jungkook sinks back onto the bed, cock returning to your entrance.

"jungkook-" you gasp, attempting to stop him, but he grabs your wrist, pinning it to the bed as he shakes his head.

"no baby. answer the phone," he says, pushing his thick cock into you once again.

you moan loudly, unable to control the lewd sound.

"please-" you whimper.

he goes easy on you, stopping his thrusts as he motions for you to answer the phone.

you clumsily push the button and immediately, the booming sound of taehyung's voice comes through.

"hey, I called to see if you made it home safely," tae says, and you curse under your breath in a little bit of annoyance and pleasure.

this call is in fact, not an emergency.

"y-yes, i'm home safe," you reply, trying your very best to sound as if your husband's seven inch cock isn't inside of you right now, but it's difficult.

jungkook smirks, stifling a mocking laugh.

"that's good. and sorry i basically told on you," taehyung laughs.

"it's not your fault, it's jungkook," you say, unable to resist the urge to blame him, but that doesn't go well for you as he thrusts a lot deeper into you.

you accidentally drop the phone and it lands next to your head as you silently moan, whimpering against his lips.

"did you guys fight?" taehyung asks.

you slightly recall the small fight in the car about your drinking habit, thinking that's what he meant.

"a little.. bit," you let out breathily.

"yeah.." taehyung chuckles. "did he get mad?"

"y-yes, he was being a jerk," you reply.

jungkook simply pokes his tongue at the side of his cheek at your response, thrusting harder into you and you cry, biting onto your lower lip as you shut your eyes.

you slightly push his chest, signaling for him to go easy on you, but all he does is show a lopsided grin, telling you he's going to do the opposite just to see you try not to moan.

you whine into his ear, nails scratching his back as you let him fuck you so good.

"well.. i don't blame kook. i would hate it too if minho kissed areum," taehyung blurts out.

his words cause you to freeze in surprise cause you surely weren't expecting him to say that.

jungkook furrows his eyebrows, replaying taehyung's words in his head to double check if he heard it right before he stops thrusting.

"i- um-" you stutter, mind racing to find the right words, but you're too late as jungkook figures things out, your panicked expression only adding to his final answer.

"you kissed minho?" jungkook's voice rings out in anger and disbelief.

in a sudden burst of frustration, he snatches your phone, abruptly ending the call.

his eyes darken, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.

"minho was at the fucking party?" he asks, anger coursing through his body.

he grits his teeth, deeply breathing against your face as he stares at you.

"jungkook-," you try to explain, hands on his chest to push him away, but he doesn't move.

instead, he manhandles you so swiftly, moving you on your hand and knees, slapping your ass hard, making you wail.

he pushes your face to the bed, smearing your pretty makeup against the white sheets.

jungkook inserts his cock back in your pussy in one fast movement and you gasp for air. you can feel him so much deeper this way, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

he angrily begins to pound harder into you.

he puts your hair in a ponytail with his hand, yanking you backward until your back is pressed against his chest.

"i- specifically told you to stay away from him," jungkook grunts into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "he got to kiss.. your pretty lips."

you whimper, trying to explain yourself, but his cock doesn't allow you to.

"tell me baby, how was the kiss?" he asks, his unoccupied hand digging into your hip.

"m-minho-" you moan loudly right as he hits your g-spot.

you begin to shake, the repetitive rub against your g-spot making you see stars. you would've fallen over by now if jungkook wasn't holding you to his chest.

"what's that?" jungkook mockingly says, knowing he's hitting your g-spot so perfectly that you're unable to speak.

"ah!- minho k-" mascara tears stream down your face, your red cherry lip gloss smeared across your cheek.

"stop moaning his fucking name," jungkook grumbles, landing another hard slap on your reddened ass.

he finally let's you go and you fall right back on the bed, cheek pushed against the sheets before he picks up an even faster pace.

"tell me what happened y/n," he says, sweat dripping down his face.

"oh god! s-slow down-" you manage to let out, sobbing in pleasure.

"tell me what happened," he repeats in irritation.

he spanks your ass two times on each side before grabbing your hips to go deeper, but slows down his pace so you have the chance to talk.

"i- ... i was talking to him," you admit breathily, turning to face him with innocent eyes. "and he started telling me.." you hesitate, turning back to the bed to avoid showing guilt.

"telling you what?" jungkook asks, beginning to increase his pace again.

"how b-bad of a husband you are," you whimper. "he said- that i'd never have to be alone a-agin, if he was my husband."

you moan wholeheartedly, your g-spot being pounded so hard that it becomes too much to bare.

"ah! he- d-doesn't think you- love me," you let out, more tears streaming down your fucked out face.

and with that, jungkook fucks you harder, faster, and deeper, making you wail pathetically as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"and do you really believe that?" he questions, grunting at how close he is to cumming inside your dirty walls, but he controls it.

"no- jungkook," you sigh, feeling your orgasm approaching.

he can feel you tightening around him, making him angrier.

"fuck y/n. you're getting so fucking tight."

his hips stutter and he growls, knowing he's about to cum hard.

"talking about minho turns you on, huh?"

"no-" you moan, stomach tightening.

"no?" jungkook pounds your cunt so hard that you shake, screaming his name until your voice gives out.

"i'm cummin-" you squeal, body shaking from high pleasure.

your pussy becomes so tight and jungkook pulls out from the pressure, watching you squirt all over the bed as you moan shamelessly.

he pumps his cock, groaning at the lewd sight of you destroying the sheets and he finally shoots his cum, painting your expensive dress all dirty.

he moans proudly, coming down from his high as he jerks his cock between your ass, wanting to feel your beautiful pussy rub against his vein.

"fuck y/n," jungkook growls, watching you shake from overstimulation.

he feels his cock throb before it begins to soften and he looks at the mess you both made with a chuckle.

he gets off the bed, taking deeps breath to regain control of his breathing before grabbing a towel from the bathroom.

he wipes the cum off your back and in between your legs.

jungkook then turns you around on your back and smiles at how you beautiful you look, even after getting fucked and crying your makeup off.

you look into his handsome eyes and he can see the guilt written all over your face.

"i know i s-shouldn't have been talking to him, but we were just talking and all the sudden he was kissing me and i-"

"yeah baby?" jungkook interrupts, wiping your stained cheek with his thumb. "but what did i say about talking to him?"

you gulp nervously, hoping he won't get mad again.

"to walk away if he ever tries to talk to me," you answer, melting under his touch.

it makes you feel even guiltier.

"and what did my baby do?"

"talk to him.." you mutter.

all of the sudden, jungkook sucks in a breath, a groan leaving his lips as he tilts his head toward the ceiling.

he rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"why does my wife have to be so gorgeous?" jungkook sighs, dropping his gaze to look at your beautiful eyes.

your cheeks turn a rosy pink as you avoid his strong gaze, but he captures your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

"i love you," jungkook says and you feel your eyes begin to water, the loving feeling swimming in your heart.

"i love you too."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my gf's son not to call me dad?

I (22M) have been dating my gf (24F) for 4 years now. She has a 7 year old whose dad isn't in the picture anymore - he hasn't been since the kid was born. My gf says he was abusive and I think there are some charges against him but as far as I know, nothing was proven. He has other kids too who he does have a relationship with but he doesn't have custody rights with my gf's son so they hasn't been allowed to have a relationship.

My gf and I live together and are both in college. I am going to be a surgeon and she wants to study science but she hasn't decided what to do with it yet. Because we're both busy with that, her son doesn't live with us full time. He stays with her parents during the week. This means that we have to dedicate our weekends to looking after the kid. I didn't really mind this at first but her parents are really pushing for her to look after him during the week now too, which we don't have time for. I hear how that doesn't sound great but the plan has always been that her parents will take care of the kid until she finishes with school. She has classes for 4+ hours from Mon-Thurs, plus she needs to spend a few hours studying every day, then she has labs on Friday for most of the day. I have classes all week for fewer hours each day but next semester I'll probably be doing an internship so I'll have more work to do. Then we pick up her kid on Friday evenings and spend the whole weekend with him. There's hardly any time for us to spend time alone together. I like her son and he's usually fun to have around but both of us are obviously stressed from having no down time so most weekends my gf and her son get into an argument or something and things escalate. I try not to get involved when that happens. Sometimes my gf and I are the ones who end up arguing and in that case, I usually go to my parents house.

Basically, I'm not super involved with the kid. Her parents want us to spend all of our free time on parenting despite originally agreeing that it was better if my gf focused on school. He has a dad who could probably be more involved but my gf and her family don't want him around. I've suggested that maybe it would be a better solution for her son to live with his dad full time, that way she can focus on school and then her career and still have time for herself and for us. I love her but she doesn't really have maternal instincts and she doesn't actually want kids, she has said a lot that she regrets not giving him up for adoption.

Recently, we were out for dinner with my gf's sister and kid, and the kid called me his dad. He's done this a lot and usually I just kind of ignore it, but no one else corrected him this time and I felt like the kid deserved the truth. I asked him then and there not to call me dad because he has a real dad who probably wouldn't like it. He didn't seem upset by it but my gf's sister lost it. She thinks I don't want the kid around and that I'm the reason my gf doesn't spend more time with him. She also thinks this was the first time my gf's son heard about his bio dad. Total conjecture, but she won't hear my side of it. The kid knows I havent been around since he was born so he obviously knows someone else must be his dad. I told my gf I don't think it's fair to let the kid call me dad when he has a real dad out there and she sort of agrees. She told her son not to call me dad anymore and they had a long talk about it. She still doesn't want the real dad involved but that's a whole other battle.

Here's why I think I might be the asshole: I said this to the kid in a moment of annoyance, which probably wasn't the way to bring it up. Like I said, he didn't seem upset by it but I wasn't there for the longer conversation so I don't know exactly. I think he's old enough to be allowed to know about his real dad in a more serious way. It's kind of messed up that he could run into his dad in the street (we live in a pretty small town) and wouldn't know it. I'm not his dad and for the foreseeable future, I won't be responsible for him as a parent because he still lives with his grandparents. I think it's reasonable to say that he shouldn't call me dad. So, AITA?

[disneyprincemuke]

in the name of friendly racing * fem!driver

a simple race on their scooters flips the entire paddocks upside down

pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hello everyone i know i haven't posted a vr piece and it's all because i couldn't fully grasp the fact that femdriver and logan are not together in this universe but i took a break from them and yes i'm coping well, but no i will not stop tearing up about their love story k? anyway, i think this is MID compared to other crack fics i've written but i'm trying i promise

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

she holds up the scooter in one hand, the other on her hip as she leans into the tablet in liam's hands. "what's the route again?"

"are you stupid?" logan asks.

"no, do you want to not join us?" she asks quickly, lifting her head to glare at the american across her. she darts her arm out and shoves logan back. "i'll disqualify you right here, right now. you wanna spend your afternoon in your driver's room like a loser like the rest of them?"

"he sent it to the group chat, how can you still not know the route?" logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes down into a glare.

"i'm just making sure!"

"relax," liam mutters, holding a hand up in an attempt to break up the fight that he's sure would happen if he doesn't interfere. "i'll disqualify you both."

"just tell me the route," mick sighs, shaking his head. he steps forward and tilts his head to try and get a look at the screen under the scorching sun above them. "no cheating, okay?"

logan huffs. "tell that to her."

she throws her head back and rolls her eyes. "god, logan!" she winds her arm back and darts an arm out to grab logan's sweatshirt. she bundles it up into her hands and tries to yank logan towards her.

"okay!" mick cries out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from logan. he carefully, finger by finger, removes her hand from grasping his sweatshirt and pushes her back. he then guides logan two steps away. "the race hasn't even started yet!"

oscar pops his head between the girl and liam. "are you sure you should be doing this?"

"of course," liam mutters, glancing at oscar. "why are you here? i thought you didn't want anything to do with us if we went through with this?"

"yeah, but i'm curious. so i know which places to avoid - i wouldn't want to get run over by road rager over here," he gestures to her and then at logan, "and mr. beating-(y/n)-is-my-life's-mission over there."

"she can't possibly be beating me at every single thing!" logan cries, throwing his arms in the air, and pointing over at her.

"sore loser!"

"okay, so we're starting here," liam points at where they're standing. "we start at williams."

"are you guys going to the pitlane?" oscar questions.

"no, are you crazy? do you want somebody to kill us?" mick scoffs. "i'd get my scooter rights taken away from me!"

"yeah," liam agrees with a nod. he throws oscar a judgemental stare, absolutely bewildered at the thought that they would be racing at the area where literal cars could be driving out. he looks back down at the ipad. "anyway."

"we zip between the racing homes," logan mutters, tracing the map of the paddocks that they'd pulled up from the internet. "and then we make a round around the interview table and the finish line is back here. don't forget to zip through the racing homes again."

"exactly," liam nods. "everyone aware of the rules?"

"you guys had the time to come up with rules?" oscar laughs. "seriously?"

"no shortcuts," mick says, turning his head to look at the younger girl. he grabs her wrist. "have you got your watch on so we can track the route everyone takes for the race?"

"yes. i'm a fair racer, above all," she scowls, retracting her arm from mick. "and we stop for everyone who calls us, yes? especially the fans."

"easy," logan nods, a smirk stretching his lips. "suddenly i'm kind of thankful nobody really likes me."

"what? don't say that," she grunts. "i like you. we like you."

"break it up, lovebirds. we are not friends, we're competitors," liam mutters. "you guys got the glasses (y/n) stole from seb's office?"

"i didn't steal them. we're borrowing them!" she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "don't break them - seb doesn't know i took them from his office."

"oh, i'm pretty sure charles would have let you borrow his if you asked," oscar whispers. when she turns her head to glare at him, oscar lifts his arms up to surrender. "but, you know. what do i know?"

"well i'm not sponsored by rayban - my glasses aren't here yet. i get when everybody else gets them," she frowns. "and, i don't wanna bother charles. it's okay."

"so you snuck into seb's office instead."

"it's not sneaking in if the door was wide open," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "duh?"

"ah, is that why you needed me to keep a lookout in the hallway?" logan says.

"shut up. i'm going to beat you," she mutters, pointing at logan with a threatening finger.

"okay, so are we clear about the rules?" liam puts the ipad down and looks around. "we've literally tried to make it as foolproof as possible. there's no way you guys can find ways to cheat, right?" he turns to her. "right?"

"i don't know why you keep looking at me - i'm a fair racer! you should be asking mick if he's going to be honest about this one!"

"why me? isn't logan desperate to keep the paper mache cup that we made three nights ago?"

"in my defence, i still believe i should keep it even if i lose because i worked on it the entire night. all you fuckers did was play overcooked and scream at each other in mick's hotel room."

"okay, shut up and race," oscar mutters, flailing his arms in the air to dismiss their huddle. "are you guys ready? can i start the race for you?"

"for someone who doesn't want to be a part of this, you sure are pushy," she mutters, turning on her heel to hop onto her scooter. "are we ready? apple watches and rayban glasses on?"

she takes the sunglasses that have been resting on the collar of her blouse and puts it on. she turns to her left and points at logan. "i'm gonna crush you."

logan pushes the sunglasses up his nose, looking ahead and doesn't spare her another glance. "sure."

"okay, okay," oscar cheers, clapping his hands. he reaches into his back pocket and reveals a red handkerchief. "turned your scooters on? everybody got their smart watches and smart glasses on?"

"start the race, cunt!"

oscar's lip twitches. "anyway. be safe, you guys. we have a race this weekend."

"i don't," mick smiles. "stay safe, though."

"start the race before i do it myself, bitch!"

"liam, shut the fuck up!" she shrieks, stepping off her scooter momentarily to whack him on the arm.

"god!" liam screams, his arm darting out to whack her as a response. "the race is going to start and you're not going to-"

"go!" oscar shouts, waving the handkerchief into the air. he darts to the side to get out of their way with a giggle.

almost immediately, logan and mick have already pulled back their handles, darting away from the williams racing home. she shrieks and shoves liam, causing him to lose his balance slightly, hops onto her scooter and drives away.

"oh, liam!" a deep voice calls. "i've been looking for you everywhere!"

"fuck's sake," liam sighs, shaking his head as he turns to see christian walking up to him. but he smiles as he is approached by the team principal. "yeah, christian?"

up ahead, she frowns to herself as she watches mick and logan racing head to head. there's no way to catch up to them on these scooters - it's simply not like an f1 car. she can only bank on the fact that someone, somehow, will stop them to give her some sort of window to pass them.

with the little number of people in the paddocks on a wednesday for the weekend proves that they should have done this early in the afternoon on friday. there could have been more obstacles and distractions for them.

if only the boys had listened to her.

she shrieks when she sees george flagging mick down ahead of the alpine racing home, forcing mick to come to slow stop. she screeches loudly when she passes mick, her hair being blown back by the wind and speed she's going at.

"thanks, george!" she screams, momentarily waving at the brit as she passes the mercedes pair. she can see logan ahead of her, speeding and manoeuvring around the crowd flawlessly by the ferrari home.

surely, somebody will recognise him and pull him to a stop, right? if nobody does, she can only hope that alex is somewhere in the paddocks wondering where his rookie has gone.

the race, objectively, is going fine for her. logan was momentarily stopped by a williams engineer. she passes them screeching, also thanking the nameless woman and waving at logan smugly as she accelerates her scooter.

when she does that, her eyes widen when she sees mick also passing logan. she has no idea where liam has gone, or if christian has even let him go from their conversation at the back of the paddocks.

she does get stopped, once, by susie who stops her to ask her a question. it was a simple question that she easily had the answer to and susie let her off in seconds. she excitedly presses a kiss on the older woman's cheek and quickly accelerates away, shocked that mick is suddenly riding next to her.

behind them is logan trailing shortly, and liam's conversation with christian is actually short. so behind logan is liam, held back by a couple of seconds only.

it's just that christian had overheard them whispering earlier that day about their race and he had lurked by the williams racing home to mess with his driver.

she, unfortunately, does get stopped another time, by a fan that was being brought around for a tour of the paddocks ahead of the race weekend. she grumbled under her breath when the three boys passed her: mick mimicking her shrill screech, logan passing her with his fingers in an 'L' shape, then liam simply ignoring her.

the race is short. suddenly they're all at the final stretch, now circled back at the ferrari racing home as they aim to make it to the finish line where oscar sits in a plastic chair, hunched over as he texts his girlfriend.

she screeches when she sees mick come to a stop right by the aston martin home. it's then questionable when she sees logan stop, and then liam. and suddenly she's getting flagged down by liam.

she rolls her eyes and ignores them, clearly being sore losers that she is now destined to win their little race. she goes right past them, slowing down slightly since it seems that she is the only competitor left in the race.

"(y/n)!" she hears a familiar accent. her eyes widen as she looks back, seeing sebastian with his hands on his hips, surrounded by her friends with the guiltiest expressions on their faces.

it all happens very fast. she had all intentions to slow down and go back to where they were, but she hadn't seen the rock up ahead.

if only she'd been looking ahead.

the front wheel of her scooter is caught against the stone, sending both her and the vehicle flying forward. "fuck!" she screams, her arms stretching out to try and break the fall.

"oh, my god!"

"that's going to hurt."

"are you stupid?"

"are you okay?"

she stays in her spot for a couple of seconds as she tries to digest the events of what just happened to her. one second, she had been on her scooter, the next she's knelt on the ground with her hands planted into the ground.

then it hits her: all of the pain from her fall.

she removes her hands from the ground and blinks rapidly, allowing the blood to seep from her now wounded palms. she feels it in her knees, surely scraping her favourite pair of pants when she had skidded against the floor. one of sebastian's pair of raybans is strewn not too far from her on the ground.

her scooter is ahead of her, which oscar is now bent over and pushing it upright.

she looks up, meeting logan's eyes with a hand over his mouth.

"it's not funny!"

"it's a little funny," logan shrugs before he bends down to meet her. "are you okay?"

tears immediately well in her eyes. she stretches out her hands and shows logan her injured palms. "i hurt my hands!"

"we can see that." mick is the next to kneel next to her, taking her hands into his. he moves her hands about and tries to assess her wounds. "we should get you back to your room and treat these."

"where are my glasses, you fucking- seriously, (y/n)?" she hears sebastian mutter. she lifts her head and watches sebastian pick up the pair from the ground and turn to her. "seriously? a race on the scooter i had to beg to get you?"

"it was liam's idea!" she cries, wiping her eye on the sleeve of her blouse. "he challenged me!"

"it was premeditated!" liam screams in an attempt to defend himself. "she said we would race once you got her scooter approved!"

"shut the fuck up!" she screeches, reaching out to push liam. "i told you not to tell on me!"

"okay, enough fighting," oscar sighs. he bends over and is the only one to think that she should not let her wounds be against the dirty ground for too long. "come on, let's get you all patched up."

"but my knees!" she cries, sniffling as she looks down at her scraped jeans. there's a small hole on both of her knees, the edges seeped with blood and small matching wounds on either. "i can't-"

"enough crying, drama queen," logan mutters, already hunched over and tapping his shoulders. "i'll carry you back. stop crying."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicore @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[nickfowlerrr]

Ohhh bonfire night with Bucky Barnes 🥹

it's easy to be loved.

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff fluff and some more fluff. & like the tiniest little bit of angst if you really, really squint.

words: 2.9k

notes: ahh this is so cute!! thank you for sending it in! 🥰

comments and reblogs are always welcome and so appreciated! let me know what you think. 🖤

"Where are you taking me, Barnes?" you question as Bucky leads you further into the woods, his hand holding yours tightly.

"I said it's a surprise, you can't wait another minute?" he lightly chastises.

You had just gotten done at the pumpkin patch, Bucky's car loaded with your haul of pumpkins, an assortment of sweets from the farm's bakery, and a good three pounds of some of the best fudge you have ever had in your life. You were already thinking about how you wanted to carve your pumpkin when you got home but were pulled from your brainstorming when Bucky pulled off the road, instead following a single, one-way road down into the wooded area that surrounded you.

You looked over at him quizzically and he turned to you for a second with a light laugh and that ever-disarming smile, though you didn't miss the twinkle of excitement that was shining in his gaze.

When he finally pulled up to a clearing with a little gated pathway just to the side, he parked and turned the car off, quickly getting out and gallantly coming to the passenger door to open it for you before you could even try.

"Okay seriously," you looked at him pointedly, "did you bring me out here to murder me? Was this past year just one long con to get my guard down enough to lure me out into the middle of nowhere?"

You narrowed your eyes at the laugh Bucky let out at your words as you got out of the car, standing before him as he stayed where he was, one hand on the car door, the other on the side of the car, keeping you right where you were. "First of all, sweetheart, we're not in the middle of nowhere. And secondly, you think I would've bought that much fudge if I was planning on killing you tonight?" he joked.

"Hm. Okay, fair point," you allowed with a quirk of your lip, your fingers finding the belt loops of his jeans, tugging him closer. You tilted your chin at him, an expectant pout playing on your lips when he didn't move, only a smirk on his lips as he looked at you. You tugged again and he relented, moving in to kiss you softly.

"Mm," he hummed against you, "you taste like chocolate."

You smiled into the kiss, pulling away only for a second to speak. "That fudge. It's so good," you murmured before kissing him again, your lips moving more firmly against his, your fingers tugging him closer once more.

Bucky groaned as he moved to press you against the car, sharing your desire for more, deepening the kiss, his lips hot against yours.

And then all too quickly he forced himself to pull away from you, biting his own lip as he took a grounding breath, shaking his head at you. "No," he huffed, "you can't distract me right now, doll. I didn't bring you out here just for some nookie."

You breathed a laugh, "God, I love it when you talk like an old man," you teased with a smirk.

He fixed you with that signature glare of his before he moved to grab something from the backseat. You watched with renewed interest, still wondering what exactly it was you were doing out here.

Bucky shouldered a large bag on his left side and held a full duffle in his right hand before he shut the door and turned to you, smiling again. He looked like a kid going on his first camping trip.

At the thought, your face fell, eyes going a little wide.

No, you told yourself, he wouldn't... Or would he?

As if he could read your thoughts, he spoke and put your mind at ease as he approached the small gate just across from where you were, signaling you to follow him. "We're not camping, don't worry."

"What are we doing then?"

"You'll see, just trust me."

"Hmph," you puffed as you trailed behind him.

You watched him for a long moment, admiring him among the beauty of the wooded trail. Smiling to yourself, you grabbed your phone from your pocket, making sure your sound was off before you took a photo of him.

Bucky wasn't the biggest fan of being on camera, but he always humored you, smiling when you asked him oh so nicely and even giving you his okay to post a candid to your Instagram every now and then.

This one, though, like many of the other shots you've taken of him this past year, would stay in your favorite album. Just for you, until December came around. You couldn't wait to finally put together the physical photo album you've been planning. It'd be the closest you'd get to showing Bucky how you see him through your eyes. The charming and protective, strong and cuddly, sweet and caring, loving, doting, brilliant man he is.

You wish he could see himself the way you see him, for who he truly is, without the darkness that can so easily cloud his outlook on himself.

He's been doing much better, therapy and healing work making a noticeable difference. But every now again, he gets that look in his eye. He tries to hide it when it rears its head, but you never let it go unnoticed. You never want him to feel alone in that. Not ever again.

You're not paying attention to your path, your eyes are drifting as you think, and you end up walking right into the brick wall that is Bucky's back, barely dodging the backpack slung on his shoulder.

"Shit," you laugh, resting your head against him and wrapping your arms around his front, "sorry."

"What the hell are you doin' back there?" he asks, turning and being careful not to hit you with the bag.

You shrug, "Can't beat the view," you say with a playful smack to his ass as you lean into him.

"Would you stop trying to get into my pants for five seconds," he laughs, switching the duffle from his right hand to his left and then grabbing yours to hold instead, tugging to his side. You squeeze his hand lightly with both of yours and let your body bump into his, your head against him as you walk side by side. You feel it when he presses a kiss to your head and it sends a fluttering to your tummy as you bite on your contented smile. "We're almost there," he says with a soft squeeze to your hand in return. You straighten up as you continue walking but stay close to Bucky's side.

Within a minute, Bucky is pulling you from the main path onto a peculiarly stoned one that branched off from it. From there, it was a short walk to the large, modern, yet rustic looking cabin he had been leading you to.

You stare in awe at the impressive building as Bucky smiles at you.

"You like it?" he asks, still grinning.

"It," you breathe a stunned laugh, "it's gorgeous. How did you find this place? Whose is it?"

"Didn't really find it... Built it," he says a little too casually for the pride you see in his eyes as your own widen.

"What? You- you built this?"

"Well, I mean, not entirely me. Sam and Steve helped out a bit here and there."

"This is incredible, Buck," you shake your head with a smile. "How long have you been working on it?"

"Took a few months,"

"Wait, is this the job you've been talking about?" you ask.

"I wanted to surprise you," he laughs, tugging you close as you both look on at the cabin.

"Color me surprised," you say as you hug onto him. "This is amazing. You are amazing. Whoever gets their hands on this place is gonna be so damn lucky."

"I'm glad you think so..." he trails off, the corner of his lip threatening to curl into a half smirk.

It takes you a second to pick up on what he's getting at, but you finally do.

"You own this?" you ask in near disbelief.

"It's not entirely furnished yet, but I couldn't keep this to myself any longer. I can show you inside later, but right now, I have a little something else planned," he leads you by the hand to walk past the side of the cabin, coming around to a fenced backyard as you take it all in.

Along the back wall is some kind of screen mounted, in front of it is what looks to be a bonfire pit, huge wooden chairs placed around it and an outdoor table off to the side, too.

You're still silent as you take in the sight, Bucky unlocks the fence door and lets you through. You turn back to him, and he is nothing but smiles as he ushers you closer to the setup.

“Wow,” you awe.

"I know it's not the same as that drive in you were talking about, but-"

"No, I-" you turn back to him, "I love this," you breathe with a laugh.

"Good," he says, leaning closer to kiss you softly. "Pick a seat, I'm gonna get this set up."

You listen, choosing the chair at the head of the pit, right across from the screen.

Bucky moves the table around behind you, and you watch in quiet amusement as he arranges all of the items he's brought in his bags on the table.

First, he sets up the wireless projector, the once white screen now dark as he pauses the movie on the very first few seconds. He then sets out a bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and a package of full-size Hershey bars; your smile grows at the sight, as a fuzzy warmth fills your chest. That feeling you’ll never tire of, the feeling you’ve only ever experienced with Bucky.

He turns and heads to the fire pit, already loaded with logs. He quickly gets it lit and dusts off his hands before striding over to you.

You're gazing up at him from your seat as he stands before you, "All this for me?" you ask, your voice much softer than you thought it'd be.

"All this for you," he responds just as softly, taking your hand in his and pulling you to stand, guiding you to the table.

Soon, you're wrapped up in a blanket as you and Bucky roast your marshmallows on sticks, your chairs pulled as close as they can be while your favorite halloween movie plays on the screen. It's a bit darker out now, the sun nearly set and leaving the remnants of a gorgeous autumn hue as the wind blows lightly around you. The first few stars to be seen are already shining brightly in the sky. Bucky has turned the light backyard lights on, the strings of small bulbs hung around you adding to the cozy outdoor atmosphere as the glow from the fire burns brightly before you. The smell of the smoke mixing with the sweetness in the air. You're both leaning toward the fire as you let the flames brown your sugary treats, a pack of graham crackers sitting on the arm of your chair and an open bar of chocolate sitting on Bucky's.

"Shit," he curses as he pulls his stick from the fire - his marshmallow fully ablaze while you laugh at him frantically shaking his stick about.

"Smooth," you comment as you ready your s'more, smooshing your marshmallow from the stick onto the chocolate between the crackers.

You turn more towards him as you take a bite, reveling in the gooey sweetness. He's looking at you with bright eyes, his smile nothing short of pure admiration.

You lick your lip, feeling some of the stickiness there.

"You missed some," he hums as he sets his stick down, his burnt marshmallow not so much a thought as he turns more towards you in turn. You watch him intently as he brings his thumb to the corner of your lip, wiping at the bit of chocolate that was left behind.

A shiver rolls over you at the soft touch and you lean into him further. His lips tick in a smile as he copies you, his hand holding your cheek while he leans in. Your breath almost hitches as he is about to kiss you, but you're left stunned, brows furrowing when his lips meet his thumb instead, sucking off the chocolate that sits there.

"That's not nice," you murmur as you turn your face, watching entranced by his sultry display. You place your hand over his, still holding you gently.

He smirks at your complaint but doesn't say anything as you brush your nose against his, taking matters into your own hands.

You press your lips to his, your other hand wrapping around the back of his neck, almost leaving your seat as you scoot forward - wanting to be closer to him as you deepen the kiss, but getting stopped by the barrier that is the chairs.

Your hand leaves his and moves to hold his face instead. You don't break the kiss until you're out of air, pulling back as Bucky chases your lips. You titter, letting your forehead press to his as he whispers hotly, "You always taste so sweet."

"It's the s'mores," you smile.

"No," he mutters, kissing your lips tenderly once, "that's all you, sweetheart."

The credit song catches your attention as you stay where you are, both you and Bucky teetering on your seats for a moment.

"This has been really nice, Bucky, seriously, I loved it. Thank you."

"I'm glad you liked it. I wanted to have the first night spent out here be just us, because this is the first of many nights to come. Sam's already planning a bonfire for next weekend with everyone," he rolls his eyes.

"Ever the gracious host you are," you kid, following Bucky up as he stands. "Are you gonna have the interior done by then?"

"Well, that depends."

"Oh? On what?"

"On whether you agree to help me decorate the place or not,"

"Bucky," you laugh, "I helped you decorate your apartment, now you want me to help decorate your cabin? If you're not careful, you're never gonna be able to get rid of me," you say as you help him pack everything back up, "You're gonna see me everywhere. From the bath towels to each and every throw pillow I'll force you to buy."

You're smiling as you close the box of graham crackers, facing the table as you work. Suddenly, Bucky's arms snake around you, his head coming to rest in the crook of your neck as he breathes you in.

"That's kinda the whole point, doll."

You close your eyes enjoying the warmth he offers and the way his stubble tickles your skin as he nuzzles into you.

"I don't ever want you to leave," he confesses against your skin, a part of him hoping you didn't hear the desperation in his voice and another part wanting him to just get down on his knee and pull out the box that's been burning a hole in his pocket for the past week. To finally ask you the question he knew he'd end up asking the day he met you.

But he won't. He's waited this long, he can wait a few more days.

Your anniversary isn't far off. He can wait, he tells himself.

You turn into him as he keeps his touch around you, "I'm not going anywhere," you assure him, resting your hands on his chest, your eyes gleaming with love and sincerity. You mean what you say, you're not going anywhere. Not unless he's planning on going with you.

“I’m gonna put out the fire, then we’ll head home, okay?”

“Okay,” you simper, letting your fingers graze along his chest as he pulls away from you.

“Bucky,” you say his name, so lovingly he swear he could melt right then and there, and he turns back to meet your eye, your soft gaze full of adoration, “I love you.”

It’s a simple statement, one he’s heard pass your lips many times, but one he knows he’ll never tire of hearing.

He smiles at you, one of the few people who can so easily get a genuine one out of him. As he gazes back at you, he can’t believe, that by some miracle, he found you in this life. Can’t believe that you allow him to be in yours, that you want him to be in yours, and really can’t believe how easy it is to let himself be loved by you.

After everything he’s been through, he fought with himself for the longest time. He wasn’t sure he’d feel worthy of being loved ever again. Wasn’t sure he’d find someone who would even want to, someone who could love him.

And then he met you. And you make it seem like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

He feels it when you so much as look at him, every little touch from you, every kiss, every laugh. He knows he's never felt less worthy of anything in his life, but he also knows you never want him to feel anything less than worthy. He's still working on it, and he'll get there...someday.

But for now, he's going to keep thanking his lucky stars for leading him to you.

"I love you more," he returns as your smile grows at his words.

And he means it. He loves you more than he could ever say, more than you could ever know, more than he ever thought was possible to love someone.

There's a twinkle in your eyes and his fingers twitch, wanting to reach for his pocket again before he thinks better of it.

Just a few more days...

[doubleca5t]

ryuko matoi yes or no

Peter: Since we're all gonna die, there's one more secret I feel I have to share with you. I did not care for Kill La Kill.

Lois: What?

Peter: Did not care Kill La Kill.

Chris: How can you even say that, dad?

Peter: Didn't like it.

Lois: Peter, it's so good! It's like the perfect anime!

Peter: This is what everyone always said. Whenever they say...

Chris: The animation, the fight scenes the soundtrack!

Peter: Fine soundtrack, amazing even. Did not like the anime.

Brian: Why not?

Peter: Did not...couldn't get into it.

Lois: Explain yourself. What didn't you like about it?

Peter: It's too over the top, Lois.

Lois: What?

Peter: It's too over the top.

Lois: What does that even mean?

Chris: How can it be *too* over the top, the whole point of that show is to be over the top!

Peter: It's just a whirlwind of insane bullshit from start to finish. It's disorienting, I couldn't get invested in it, I've never even finished the show. I've never seen the ending.

Chris: You've never seen the ending?!

Stewie: How can you say you don't like it if you haven't even given it a chance?

Lois: I agree with Stewie. It's not really fair.

Chris: It's outrageous.

Peter: I have tried on three separate occasions to get through it, and I get to like the fifth scene where she's fighting some half naked lunatic.

Lois: Yeah, it's a great scene. I love that scene.

Peter: I just could not get excited for it at all. Like at some point I just think "you'd have to be REALLY horny for this high schooler to get into this show" and I'm just not, I just do not get horny for Ryuko

Lois: You know what, Peter,

Chris: It's a satire!

Lois: The show is a satire of anime fan service you just don't appreciate sexy anime girls when it's tongue in cheek

Peter: I love Keijo. That is my answer to that statement.

Lois: Exactly.

Peter: Well, there you go.

Lois: Whatever.

Chris: I like that show too.

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY PRIDE!!!

Could you, pretty please, write more of the Draco in the muggle world or Draco and the twins take down Voldemort AU?

Love your writings!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

George watches anxiously as Harry closes his eyes and Tori leans over him. He really, really hopes this works. They don't exactly have a backup plan if it doesn't.

Things are uncomfortably silent. He'd imagined this soul sucking business to be a lot more dramatic, but they can't see much under the large hood of Tori's pink robe and neither of them are making a sound.

Then she's drifting back and Harry's blinking rapidly.

"Did it work?" Ron asks anxiously, stepping forward to grab Harry's shoulders and shaking him. "Are you okay? How was it?"

"Wet," Harry says, eyes finally focusing. "I don't feel any different. Wait - my scar doesn't hurt anymore. Does that mean it worked?"

They turn to Tori, who gives a thumbs up. The dull gray of her skin has turned a shimmering silver now that she's consumed each piece of Voldemort's soul. All the dementors that had come to Hogwarts had sickly grey-black skin where it wasn't scabbed over. He wonders if that means they sent starving dementors to a school full of children and what idiot thought that was a good idea.

"Is it over then?" Fred asks uncertainly. "Voldemort's dead? For good?"

They all look towards Voldemort's soulless body that's still passed out on the couch.

Hermione raises her gun. Two shots and a smattering of brain matter later, she says, "Yeah."

"You seriously couldn't have waited to do that?" Draco complains. At least the polyjuice as worn off and he's wearing his own face again. "That settee is from the seventeen hundreds. It's going to take more than scourgify to get that out."

"Um," Harry says. "Okay. Well - should we. Tell someone?"

Draco waves a hand. "Yeah, sure, just leave me out of it."

"Leave you out of it?" Ron repeats incredulously. "You killed Voldemort and you don't even want the credit?"

"Technically, Tori did that - much obliged, Tori," he says, and she gives a bobbing head nod in acknowledgement. "And it was more of a team effort. Besides, no, I have a reputation to maintain if you've forgotten. I wanted Voldemort to stop hitting on my mother, now he won't, so this really doesn't have anything to do with me now." He frowns. "Besides getting the settee cleaned before dad notices. He'll go spare."

George thinks he might be more upset about the dead dark lord, but who knows with the Malfoys. Draco didn't turn out like this out of nowhere.

"You've been working to defeat Voldemort," Hermione says slowly, "because he was flirting with your mother?"

"Like that wouldn't be enough for you," he scoffs.

Ew.

Ron scrunches his face, then says, "Fair enough. But that still doesn't change how we're supposed to, um, handle this."

Draco rolls his eyes. "I'm taking Tori back to the island. You guys figure that out."

"I'll come with you," George says eagerly, dodging Fred's hand when he tries to hold him back. He waits until it's just three of them to ask, "Do you really not have a plan for this part?"

Draco grins at him, wide enough that George can see the dimple on his left cheek. "Let's see what they come up with. I can't be the only one doing the heavy lifting around here."

"Okay," he says, wondering if now that Voldemort's dead, Draco will kiss him.