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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 2 days ago
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Touch Starved
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Summary: This was inspired by a tweet and his gif I saw on twitter. You accidentally walk in on Bucky touching himself when he thinks he is alone. Turns out he is thinking about you. A/N: Unbeta'ed, so sorry for the mistakes! Warnings: NSFW but not that explicit. Word count: 1,379 words
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The team had made a last minute decision to go out, but you weren’t in the mood to join them. It has been quite a while since you’d had some time to yourself, and you happily retreated to your quarters with a bag full of late-night snacks in tow.
The thought of having the living area all to yourself was oddly comforting. There was something incredibly liberating about walking through the quiet corridors alone. After carefully stashing your snacks in the kitchen, you glanced around the hallway to ensure no one was around. Satisfied that the coast was clear, you stepped out of your room wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of fluffy socks.
The polished floors gleamed under the fluorescent lights and begged you to indulge in one of your guilty pleasures: dancing and sliding across the freshly waxed surface. You were mid-slide, grinning to yourself like the Cheshire cat, when an unexpected groan pierced the silence.
The sound startled you, nearly making you lose your balance as you skidded to a stop. You scanned the corridor, heart pounding in our ears, as you tried to pin point the source of the noise.
You were met with silence for a few moments. Just as you had convinced yourself that your imagination was getting the best of you, you heard it again. Only this time, it was unmistakable— it sounded like your name.
Your eyes caught a glimpse of a crack in one of the doors. Immediately, you knew that it was the source of the sound. Approaching slowly, you realized that it was Bucky’s room.
Shit! You thought back to earlier, replaying the moment you watched the others leave. Had Bucky gone with them? You didn’t remember seeing him head out. Could he still be here?
A soft, almost pained whimper reached your ears, followed again by your name.
Without hesitation, you pushed open the door, a growing sense of dread and concern rising inside you. Bucky often had nightmares— you’d heard his anguished cries echoing in the dead of night. You didn’t want to let him suffer for a minute longer than necessary— not if you could help it.
But as you silently pushed open the door, the sight before you stopped you in your tracks, stealing the breath from your lungs.
Your eyes were immediately drawn to the super soldier, sprawled out on the bed. He was shirtless. You could see the muscles in his abdomen rippling like waves as he writhed around on the mattress.
Another muffled groan escaped him and your eyes were drawn to the pillow he had clamped over his face. It would have been an alarming image, if it wasn’t for the fact that his pants were undone and his flesh hand was wrapped firmly around his cock.
You froze. Every single coherent thought vanished from your head in an instant. You stood in the doorway, mouth parted in silent shock as a flush of heat rushed to your face as your brain scrambled to process what you were seeing.
This is not what you had expected. At all.
Your instincts told you to turn around, to leave and grant him the privacy he so clearly thought he had. But for some reason, your feet refused to move. You stayed rooted to the spot as a cocktail of emotions swirled inside you— shock, embarrassment and lastly desire.
Only when he groaned your name again, the sound muffled by the pillow but clear enough to send a shiver down your spine and a flood of heat between your legs. Your heart raced as you realized that he wasn’t just lost in the moment— he was lost in the thought of you.
Your instincts finally kicked in, belatedly propelling you to turn on your heels and leave as quickly and quietly as possible. But your socks betrayed you, letting out a squeak against the polished floor.
Bucky’s movements stilled.
“Shit,” you heard him mutter under his breath, his voice low and filled with mortification. There was a rustle of sheets and before you could fully escape, his voice called out.
“Who’s there?” His words came out sharp and panicked.
You came to a halt outside his room, cursing your hesitation. You glanced around the corner just in time to see him sit up, clutching the tiny pillow against his lap, as though it could shield him from the situation he had found himself in. HIs face was flushed, his chest heaved and his wide blue eyes locked onto yours.
“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice cracking, overwhelmed by shame. He rubbed at the back of his neck with his vibranium hand. “I… I didn’t know anyone was—”
“I’m so sorry!” you blurted out. “I—I mean to, I shouldn’t have—” Words failed you, and you swiftly darted out into the hallway, hiding around the edge of the doorway.
But you didn’t go far.
Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest and for some reason, your legs felt like lead, stopping you from running away. You pressed your back against the wall, taking a shaky inhale to calm your thundering heart and trying to process what had just happened.
You needed to keep walking. You should be retreating to your room where you could pretend none of this ever happened. You should. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.
Something was pulling at your strings, master of puppetry controlling your actions, refusing to let you leave. It was desire. The way he had said your name— with so much longing— played in your mind on a loop. You hadn’t missed the way his body moved, the vulnerability he’d displayed on his flushed face. And then there was the way his eyes had widened with shock when he realized it was you.
Before you could truly think about your actions, your feet had started carrying you back to the door. You hesitated for a second but the pull inside you— the part of you that craved him— propelled you forwards.
You stepped back inside.
His face was crimson, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Was it anger? Embarrassment? Or… something else entirely?
You couldn’t decipher the expression on his face but the tension in the room weighed down on both of you.
Wordlessly, you approached him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, and he immediately curled in on himself, clutching the pillow tighter to his chest. His body was angled away from you, his gaze fixed on the wall, refusing to meet yours.
You shuffled closer, moving carefully, unsure if he wanted you to stay or to leave. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he didn’t give you any indication that he was aware of your presence. But you could feel the tension radiating from him like a forcefield. His knuckles were white against the fabric of the pillow, and he sat so rigidly it was as if his body didn’t know how to relax anymore.
“Bucky,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with kindness and affection.
Still, he didn’t respond. He seemed paralyzed, trapped in this moment of shame and uncertainty.
Slowly, you reached out, unable to control the tremble of your hand as you cradled his cheek. He flinched at first, his body stiffening, but he didn’t pull away. You kept your touch gentle but deliberate, and when he didn’t resist, you applied the lightest pressure to turn his head toward you.
At long last, his eyes met yours— his pupils dilated, unfocused and vulnerable.
You held his gaze, letting the air between you grow heavy with meaning. Your thumb brushed fondly against the stubble on his jaw, and you leaned in slowly, deliberately, giving him every chance to pull away.
He didn’t.
When your lips first met his, they moved slowly, with tenderness, almost searching. You gave him the opportunity to object… he didn’t. And suddenly the heat building inside you made it impossible for you to hold back. You deepened the kiss— conveying your longing— leaving no room for doubt, no room for misinterpretation. You wanted him.
And as his lips began to respond to yours, the pillow slipped from his grasp, forgotten as he surrendered to the intensity of your connection.
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inkandapex · 13 hours ago
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In the Slopes
Lando Norris x Reader
Chapter Summary: Lando and Y/N have always been inseparable, but during a snowy getaway with friends, their usual dynamic starts to shift. Unspoken feelings begin to resurface.
Word count: 6.1k
Warnings: some swearing angst & fluff
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Winter isn’t exactly Y/N’s favourite season; she’d much rather be lounging under the warm sun, with her feet in the water and sand tangled in her hair. But alas, Quadrant's annual team-building getaway was set in the snowy slopes of Whistler.
"What could you possibly need this for?" Lando pauses his game and turns in his seat as he hears Max hysterically laughing at the whistle he found in Y/N's luggage.
"Give me that! Why are you two even here? Don't you have to pack your own stuff or something" Y/N whines and snatches the whistle from Max, tossing it across her bedroom.
"Max, be nice. It took a lot of grovelling to get her to agree to be in the video, let alone come with us," Lando laughs, turning back around to focus on his game.
"You better not be messing with my sims Lando, I spent hours building that house from scratch" Y/N sighs as she sits on the floor with a pile of clothes in her arms
"I don't know what you're so worried about Y/N, I'm not the best at skiing either. You'll pick it up quick" Max says as he sits on the floor helping her fold the clothes
"Yeah, remember you did so well when we did that karting video. You even ended up liking it more than you thought you would"
"Alright enough pep talk, i'm not used to you muppets acting so nice. Pizza's here. Norris get your ass off my computer and help me fit all of these into my bag" Y/N stands up as she receives a notification on her phone
Lando sits across from Max as Y/N leaves the room. Max watches his friend attempt to tidily fold a shirt before he lets off a scoff.
"What?"
"Please tell me you're finally telling her this week, I can't keep a secret any longer. P is starting to notice"
"Keep you voice down! And what do you mean P's starting to notice" Lando hisses, leaning back to peek out the door checking if Y/n was anywhere within earshot
"Mate, I get so nervous when she asks about you two! The other day, she asked if you two were together, and I just got all weird and defensive, trying to explain why you'd be hanging out together, when she was clearly just asking cause you both played padel that morning and she needed to ask Y/n about a dress" Max explains, almost out of breath, running his hand across his hair
"You're acting like it's so easy for me. Oh, thanks for being such a great friend for the decade I’ve known you, Y/N. By the way, I have feelings for you—no, scratch that—I’m in love with you." Lando chucks the shirt at Max, rolling his eyes as he lies back on the floor.
"That works"
"Shut up.... I just— its y/n, you know? I fuck this up, everything changes. Its not just about me and her"
"Look, I don’t want to get in your head, but I honestly think she might feel the same way. She shows up to races, she’s there for you whenever you need her, shit your family loves her. You're overthinking this, tell her how you feel. That's a good start"
Lando sits up, propping himself on his elbows, a defeated look crossing his face. "Exactly, she might feel the same way... if she doesn’t, it’s gonna get weird. I can't ruin our friendship like that"
"I can meddle"
"No! No meddling! This ski trip is for the team. When I find the courage to tell her, i will"
"More like when you find your balls..."
"Foods here! Come out here, no eating in my bedroom!" Lando kicks Max's leg just in time for Y/N to announce her return, pizza boxes in hand.
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After a long day of skiing and filming, the group made their way back to the cabin just before sunset, just enough time to unwind before dinner. Y/N sank into the plush sofa by the crackling fireplace, the warmth from the flames making her sigh in relief. Wrapped up in a thick, soft blanket, she leaned back, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone.
"Wanna grab a little snack before dinner? I saw this cute cafe near by" Pietra plops down beside her, laying her head on her lap
Y/N lets out a groan, putting her phone away "P, please i'm so sore. I honestly think you'd have to drag me by my feet for dinner tonight"
"Oh but you did great today. You should've seen Max his first time on the slopes, it was almost sad." P sits up to give y/n some relief
"Where is he anyways? Go ask him to go to the cafe with you- bring me back a muffin while you're at it"
"He’s with his boyfriend, going over clips from today…" Pietra pauses, crossing her legs and narrowing her eyes at Y/N, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Speaking of my boyfriend’s boyfriend—what’s going on between you and Lando?" She leans forward slightly, her gaze sharp and accusing, as if she’s piecing something together.
This makes y/n frown, confusion spreading across her face "Me and Lando? What do you mean?"
"Come on, Y/N," Pietra says with a playful grin, leaning in as she pokes Y/N’s arm. "Ever since the season ended, you two have been hanging out way more. And didn’t you spend Christmas with his family? Oh, and let’s not forget today! On the slopes, he was literally stuck by your side the entire time—he’s usually off showing off or racing with the guys." She wiggles her eyebrows, clearly enjoying the tease, her gaze never leaving Y/N as if waiting for some kind of confession.
Y/N laughs, giving Pietra a gentle shove. "Did you hit your head out there?" she teases.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Lando and I hang out all the time, it’s just that we’ve had more time recently. Plus, it’s not the first time I’ve spent Christmas with the Norris family." She shrugs casually, then continues, her tone softening slightly as she recalls the day. "And as for today, well, it was my first time skiing, and Lando insisted I join the trip to begin with. I guess he just wanted to make sure someone was there to keep me from falling on my face the whole time." She laughs again, shaking her head, clearly not fazed by the teasing, but her explanation still carries a hint of warmth.
"Huh... I could've sworn you were hiding something. I mean even Max acts all weird whenever I bring the two of you up"
"Max? What? About Lando and I?"
"Yeah, he gets all defensive whenever I bring up the two of you," Pietra says with a shrug, her eyes narrowing playfully. "I thought you two finally sucked it up and acted on whatever’s going on between you."
"Whatever's going on?"
"Come on y/n. You clearly have feelings for Lando. You may lie to everyone else but I see through you" Pietra laughs
"I’m— no. Me? Feelings for Lando?" Y/N stutters, her voice faltering as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, suddenly feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. She tugs at the edge of her blanket, avoiding Pietra's gaze.
She forces a nervous laugh, but it sounds hollow, the tension in the room thickening. "Yeah, right. No— no, that’s not…" Her sentence fizzles out, her mind racing, but she can’t quite find the right words.
Pietra's jaw drops, her eyes widening in surprise before a sly grin slowly spreads across her face. "Oh my gosh..." she murmurs, her voice rising with the realization. "I was just messing with you, but—" She leans in closer, her smile growing wider as she watches Y/N squirm. "You do have feelings for him!"
Y/N's heart skips a beat, the words hitting her harder than expected. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see it? The weight of it all settles heavily on her, her stomach flipping in a way that both unsettles and excites her. "No, I—" she starts, but her voice is barely a whisper, unsure of what to say next.
"Y/N!" Pietra exclaims, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and excitement. "He obviously feels the same way. Why else would Max be acting like that whenever I ask about you two?"
Y/N's stomach tightens, a wave of nervous energy making her insides churn. Could it be? Was it really possible that Lando felt the same way about her? Her heart skips at the thought, but then the doubts creep in, drowning out any sense of hope. No, he couldn’t possibly... Lando was Lando, the guy who was always surrounded by people, always the center of attention, effortlessly charming everyone around him. And she... she was just Y/N. Just a friend.
He only sees me as a friend. The words loop in her mind. Nothing more than that. They’d always been friends, nothing had ever suggested anything different, right? She feels a strange tightness in her throat, as if even acknowledging the possibility of something more would shatter the delicate balance they’d always had.
"Oh, honey, I’m sorry," Pietra says softly, her tone shifting as she notices the distant look in Y/N's eyes.
"I didn’t mean to make it weird," she adds, her voice softening. "But you know, everyone’s been kind of... wondering." Her eyes meet Y/N’s, a mix of empathy and understanding in them, as if offering a lifeline in the middle of the uncertainty.
Y/N lets out a laugh, shaking her head as she looks at Pietra. "You're just saying that to make the voices go away," she teases, trying to deflect, though her tone carries an edge of nervousness.
Pietra grins, unfazed. "No, seriously! A few of the newer people on the team genuinely thought you two were a thing when they first joined Quadrant." She leans back, raising an eyebrow as she watches Y/N's reaction, knowing full well that the thought might have crossed her mind too. The comment lingers, like an unspoken truth that makes the room feel a little smaller.
The sound of footsteps coming from the stairs behind them makes both Y/N and Pietra turn their heads in sync.
"You're not getting ready yet?" Max says, his voice teasing but with a hint of impatience. "Our reservation's in an hour, and we're starving. We can't be late."
He walks down the stairs with Lando trailing just behind him, moving toward the two on the sofa. Max leans down, planting a gentle kiss on Pietra's head as he passes, a small smile tugging at his lips. Lando follows closely, his gaze briefly flickering to Y/N before he glances away, his expression unreadable. The atmosphere shifts again, subtle but charged, as everyone feels the undercurrent of what’s unspoken.
"We might have to drag Y/N by her feet to the restaurant—her words, not mine," Pietra laughs softly, her voice playful as Max sits beside her, pulling her closer for a quick cuddle.
This catches Lando’s attention, and he pushes away from the counter in the kitchen, his footsteps quick and purposeful as he strides across the room toward the couch. He stops just short of them, his eyes narrowing slightly with concern. "Why? What’s wrong? You feeling okay?" he asks, his tone laced with genuine care, though his usual confident swagger seems a little softer.
"No—yeah, I’m okay, just sore, really," Y/N says, her voice a little shaky as she forces a smile at Lando. "I’ll be fine. P, we should get ready."
She stands up quickly, giving Lando a brief but reassuring smile before turning towards the stairs. As Y/N begins to head up, Pietra stands too, shooting Max a knowing look that doesn’t go unnoticed. Max raises an eyebrow, but Pietra simply follows Y/N up the stairs.
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Dinner went by smoothly, the lively chatter and laughter around the table giving Y/N the perfect distraction from the lingering thoughts she’d been trying to push away. Lando’s presence felt comforting, like a steady anchor, though she couldn’t help but notice the occasional glance he threw her way—just enough to keep the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but not enough to make her feel overwhelmed. For now, she was content to enjoy the evening, letting the connection with her friends fill the space that her doubts had briefly occupied.
Y/N lies on her bed, the soft glow from her phone casts a faint light across the room, but her mind is still tangled in the conversation earlier. She barely notices the time passing until a soft knock at her door pulls her attention away.
She sits up quickly, smoothing her hair back, and calls out, "Come in."
Lando slips into her room quietly, a bottle of water in his hands. He stands at the foot of the bed "Hey, sorry, were you about to sleep?" he asks, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of concern.
"No, you're good," Y/N replies with a small laugh "Just on my phone... struggling to sleep, honestly." She smiles up at him, her eyes warm as she pats the space beside her. "What's up?"
Lando hesitates for just a moment, he crosses the room and sits down, the familiar weight of his presence settling next to her. He reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a small pill bottle, offering it to her along with the water bottle.
"Painkillers," he says, his tone casual but with an underlying kindness. "Thought you could use some if you want to be able to hit the slopes again tomorrow. We’re doing the sled race, remember?"
Y/N lets out a relieved sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she takes the pill from him, followed by a sip of water. "Thank you," she says, her voice soft. "I can’t believe I forgot to pack some."
Lando waves it off with a small grin. "All good," he says, his eyes meeting hers briefly. "Take one tomorrow before we head out too if you're still hurting."
She nods, feeling the knot in her shoulders start to loosen. The warmth of his presence is more comforting than she expected, and for a moment, the weight of everything else melts away.
"Do you fancy an ice cream?" Lando asks, a mischievous smirk creeping across his face as he nudges Y/N gently with his elbow.
Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, laughter bubbling up in her chest. "Ice cream? It’s almost midnight— and, uhmm... oh right, it's freezing outside," she says, her voice light with amusement. She shakes her head, grinning at his antics, but the playful glint in his eyes makes it clear he’s not giving up on the idea so easily.
Lando shrugs dramatically, the smirk never leaving his face. "Who says you can’t have ice cream in the middle of the night?" he teases, nudging her again as if trying to convince her to join his impromptu late-night mission.
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The two walk back to the cabin, their laughter echoing in the crisp night air as they reminisce about the day’s adventures. Every so often, their arms gently brush against each other, the shared warmth a quiet comfort between them.
"Aren’t you glad I made you come up here?" Lando says, a playful gleam in his eye. "Next year, you could even try snowboarding" He wiggles his brows at Y/N, his voice teasing as if he’s already picturing her falling all over again.
Y/N groans dramatically, her breath visible in the cold night. "Can't we just go to the beach or somewhere warm that doesn’t require me to fight for my life and fall on my ass every couple of meters?" She stops walking, planting her feet firmly in protest, her face scrunched in exaggerated annoyance.
Lando laughs, his eyes twinkling as he glances at her. "Come on, you big baby," he teases, reaching for her hand and pulling her gently toward the cabin. "Let’s get inside. Your nose is so red."
Y/N huffs but lets him pull her along, the warmth of his hand in hers making her forget the cold. She can’t help but smile, even if she’d never admit how much she enjoyed their little banter.
They stand just outside Y/N's door, Y/N looks up at him with a playful smirk, her arms crossed loosely in front of her. "Thank you for tonight," she says with a hint of warmth in her voice. "Though if I wake up with a cold tomorrow, I’m blaming you and your ice cream escapade."
Lando chuckles, his eyes softening as he leans against the doorframe, his smile lazy but genuine. "I’ll be sure to nurse you back to health," he says, his voice low and easy, but with an undertone of sincerity. "I’ll be across the hall if you need me."
For a moment, neither of them speaks. Silence hangs in the air, a tension growing, subtle but undeniable. Their eyes meet and linger, flicking back and forth between each other's lips, the space between them feeling smaller with every passing second.
Lando’s breath catches slightly as he notices the way her lips part just a fraction, and Y/N, almost without realizing, shifts a little closer, the energy between them thickening.
Y/N takes a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket as she glances at Lando. “Lando... I— I’ve been thinking about us—” Her voice is quieter than she meant it to be.
Lando’s eyes widen in a split-second of panic, and he quickly cuts her off, almost too quickly. “Us? About us?” His tone is a little too sharp, his expression tight, as if he’s bracing himself for something.
Y/N freezes, but then gathers her thoughts, forcing herself to look him in the eye. “Yes, our relationship—” She bites her lip, her heart pounding in her chest as she takes a step forward.
Lando blinks rapidly, trying to process her words. “—our relationship?” His voice cracks slightly, and his gaze shifts to the floor before quickly snapping back to hers.
Y/N nods, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. “Yes, well, no, I mean, our relationship as friends, of course!” She laughs nervously, her voice trailing off, trying to downplay the growing knot in her stomach.
Lando lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah, of course... uhmm, what about it?”
Y/N’s heart sinks a little, but she tries to push through the discomfort. “I just… I don’t know, Lando. I’ve been wondering if maybe we’re both feeling the same thing, you know? About... more than just friendship?” Her voice falters at the end, uncertainty creeping in.
Lando’s face flushes slightly, and he takes a step back, a defensive edge to his tone. “Oh well I mean, yeah we’re good friends, right? Best friends even, you and Max.” He says it quickly, almost too quickly, his words stumbling over themselves as if he's trying to convince himself just as much as her.
The silence that follows feels like an eternity. Y/N looks away, her stomach sinking, the words she was about to say hanging heavy in the air between them. She clears her throat, trying to force a smile, but it feels like it’s made of glass, fragile and thin. “Right,” she says softly, her voice almost too quiet. “I get it.”
Lando stands there for a moment, his expression caught somewhere between relief and regret. He can feel the weight of the situation, but he’s not sure what to say next. He couldn't bring himself to tell her how he really felt. "You... feel that way right? I mean you see me as your best friend?" he says quickly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but stopping short when he realizes how awkward it feels. "Maybe even your bestest friend, even over Max or P" Lando lets out a nervous chuckle in the attempt to ease the uneasiness filling the air.
Y/N nods, her eyes not meeting his. “Yeah, of course. Max isn't even top 3. Hey, I’m gonna head in and get some rest.” y/n attempts to return the banter as she turns slightly, her hand already on the doorknob, her pulse still racing from the conversation.
She pauses at the door, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Goodnight, Lando," she says softly before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.
Lando stands there for a moment, his hand still lingering in the air, unsure of whether he should follow her or just walk away. After a few moments, he sighs, shaking his head as he walks back toward his own room, the unspoken tension lingering in the silence of the hallway.
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Lando laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, the thoughts of the conversation with Y/N replaying over and over in his mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling of regret, the missed opportunity to tell her how he really felt. Every time he closed his eyes, her face kept coming back to him, the look in her eyes that made him realize he might have just ruined everything by not saying what he’d wanted to say.
The sun was barely up when Lando found himself standing in the hallway, his heart racing as he made his way to Max and P's room.
"Max, you've got to get up, mate," Lando whispered urgently, his voice low but insistent, shaking Max awake.
Max let out a groan, his eyes barely open as he tried to make out his friend’s figure in the dim light of the room, the sun just starting to peek through the closed curtains. "What? Lando. What time is it?" His voice was thick with sleep.
"It’s... it’s early, I know. But I need to talk. I can’t stop thinking about it, mate. I messed up."
Max rubbed his eyes, finally managing to sit up, his confusion turning into concern. "Wait, what happened?" He yawned and stretched, still groggy but fully aware that Lando was rarely this urgent unless something serious was going on.
Lando ran a hand through his hair, pacing a little as he tried to find the words. "I didn’t tell her how I really feel, Max. And now I’m just stuck. I can’t stop thinking about it. I— I think I might’ve blown it." His voice was strained, frustration seeping through every word.
Max sat up straighter now, fully awake as he processed his friend's words. “Wait you’re talking about Y/N, right?” He rubbed his face, trying to make sense of Lando’s sudden shift in mood.
Lando paused, looking at Max, his face tight with the weight of everything. “She brought it up, she asked about us- our friendship and I just froze. I panicked, Max. I said I think she's my best friend, my closest friend and if you could've seen the look on her face... now I don’t know what to do. It’s messing with me."
"You idiot" a sharp toned voice makes the two look to the other side of the bed, a once sleeping P has now pulled her eye mask off, a dissatisfied look on her face. "She obviously likes you too Lando. You two are just too scared of actually facing how you truly feel. I literally had her confess to me last night before dinner"
Lando blinked in surprise, the realization hitting him harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Max, on the other hand, sat back with an amused expression, taking in the scene unfolding before him.
"Wait—what?" Lando managed after a beat, completely caught off guard.
Max let out a heavy sigh, his tone softening. "Lando, you’ve been dodging it for how long now? What did you expect? That she’d just magically figure it out? You’ve got to be honest with her, mate. If you really feel something for her, you can’t just pretend it’s nothing. You owe her the truth".
Lando nodded, taking in his friend’s words. "Yeah, you're right. I just... don’t want to mess things up more than I already have."
Max shook his head, a knowing look on his face. “You’ve got to take the chance, mate. Just... talk to her. Don’t wait any longer. I can't even begin to think about whats going on in her head right now- you pretty much shut her down”
Lando sat back down on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face in frustration. “I don’t know what to say. What if she doesn't believe me— I don't want her to think i'm playing with her feelings on purpose, it was a genuine lapse of judgement I panicked.”
"Well, that’s the risk, isn’t it?" Max replied, his voice matter-of-fact. "But at least you’ll know for sure. The worst thing you can do is keep holding back. You’re already in deep, mate. Just go for it."
Lando sat silently for a moment, taking in Max’s advice, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety swirling inside him. He knew Max was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. With a long sigh, he stood up from the bed, a new sense of determination in his steps.
“Alright,” Lando said, giving Max a look of appreciation.
Max gave him a reassuring nod. "Just don’t overthink it."
Lando nodded, heading for the door. Before he left, he turned back to P speaking up as she put her eye mask back on. “You know, if it goes horribly wrong, I’m gonna kick your ass for hurting her.”
Max chuckled, leaning back into the pillows. “Yeah, i'd take that as motivation to fix this. Go get her, Lando.”
As Lando walked down the hallway, his mind was set. He couldn’t let another day go by without telling Y/N how he felt. It was now or never.
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Lando had been pacing around the kitchen for what felt like hours, trying to gather his thoughts. Max and P walk towards him, the nervous energy was starting to crawl back under his skin.
"Have you guys seen—" he started, but P immediately cut him off, her tone firm yet surprisingly quiet.
"What did you do?" she asked, a knowing look in her eyes as she crossed her arms. "I thought you left our room this morning ready to fix things between the two of you."
Lando's mouth went dry, his words caught in his throat. He shifted from foot to foot, suddenly feeling like he was fifteen again and in trouble with his parents. "I tried, I peeked in her room and she was sleeping and I felt bad i didn't want to wake her. I came back a few hours later she wasn't in her room" His voice was a little shaky, and his hands fumbled with the sleeve of his jacket as he tried to avoid their eyes.
P raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "So you didn’t do it? That's why she won't leave her room" crossing her arms even tighter, clearly not buying his half-hearted excuse. "You’re seriously going to stand there and tell me you didn’t even try again?"
Lando swallowed hard, the weight of the situation settling in. "I... I didn't know she was back. I don't even know where she went this morning— wait she won't leave her room?"
"She said she's feeling sick and that she caught a cold but she's clearly been crying. Lando she won't even tell me about what happened last night, she's hurting"
Max, who had been listening quietly. "Mate, you’re a mess," he said, sitting down on the counter with his arms crossed, his tone matter-of-fact. "You’ve been overthinking this for months now. It’s honestly exhausting. Now you've managed to drag her into this mess."
Lando exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration clear.
Max gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "Mate, you’re already screwing it up by not talking to her. Go up there and fix it"
P stepped forward, her voice a little gentler now, but still firm. "Just go talk to her. Tell her exactly how you feel. You’ll either get your answer, or you won’t. But you can’t keep pretending like nothing’s going on."
With a deep breath, he nodded. "I’ll go talk to her. Try to occupy the rest of the team while we're gone" He straightened up, trying to shake off the nervousness that had settled in his stomach like a knot.
Max smiled, though there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Don't worry, we'll figure something out. And Lando?" he called as he started to head for the door.
"Yeah?" he turned back, his mind already racing with what to say to her.
"Don’t come back until you’ve told her. And if you screw it up, you’re buying us dinner for a week" Max said with a wink.
Lando shot him a look, but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "I’ll keep that in mind," he muttered, and with one final deep breath, he turned to head toward Y/N’s room.
This time, there was no turning back.
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Another knock echoes through the room, causing Y/N to stir in her blanket cocoon. She sniffles and clears her throat, trying to hide the evidence of a long night’s worth of tears.
"P, I told you I’ll be fine. I don’t want anyone catching my cold. You guys go have fun," she calls out, her voice thick with exhaustion.
"It’s me," Lando’s voice filters through the door, catching Y/N off guard. She sits up quickly, her heart racing—what on earth could he want now?
Y/N hurriedly wipes at her face, but the mirror doesn’t lie. Her eyes are swollen, her cheeks streaked with dried tears, and her nose is a fiery red. She exhales in defeat.
With a soft groan, she cracks the door open "I already told Max and P I won’t be joining you guys," she says quietly, her voice heavy with guilt. "I’m really sorry, Lando. You should go... Everyone else is probably waiting."
Lando’s gaze softens, his brow furrowing as he steps closer, his tone gentle but knowing. "You’re upset about last night."
"I don’t know why I said what I said, but that’s not how I really feel," Lando insists, his voice laced with frustration, but the sight of the frown etched on Y/N’s face only deepens his anxiety.
Y/N’s gaze drops to the floor, her voice barely above a whisper, soft and tinged with hurt. "She told you, didn’t she?" The words feel like a weight she can’t shake off. She never imagined P would share something so personal, and now, she feels more exposed than ever.
Lando hesitates, shifting uncomfortably. "Yes, well… technically, she overheard me talking to Max about last night and—"
"You told Max about last night?" Y/N interrupts. She lifts her gaze, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What, me trying to confess my feelings for you and you immediately dismissing it wasn’t embarrassing enough? You had to go tell Max?"
“Y/N, no! That’s not what I—" Lando stammers. He takes a breath, gathering his courage. "I like you. I’ve liked you for months now. Max was the only person I’ve told.” The confession spills out before he can stop it, and for the first time, a sense of relief washes over him.
Y/N’s expression falters, a deep frown settling on her face as she tries to process his words. "Don't do that... please," she says softly, almost pleading. Her voice cracks slightly as she shakes her head. "You don’t have to lie to make me feel better about this." She struggles to fully comprehend what he’s just said.
"But I'm not lying!" Lando insists, his voice filled with urgency. His hands shake as he tries to convey the truth, the weight of his feelings finally spilling out. "For months, I’ve been debating whether or not to act on it. I didn’t know if you felt the same way... I didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t." He reaches out, his hand trembling as he gently tries to take hers, hoping for a sign that she might believe him.
Y/N is still caught in the confusion of it all, but as his hand brushes against hers, something settles in her chest. The warmth of his touch brings a surprising sense of comfort, and she swallows back the confusion that’s been choking her. "But... last night?" she asks quietly, her voice shaky.
Lando’s eyes soften, and he looks down, clearly conflicted. "I panicked," he admits, his words coming out in a rush. "You bringing up how we might feel about each other was the last thing on my mind. Fuck, I didn’t even think it was possible. All the scenarios I made in my head were about how I’d finally tell you... how much I wanted to be with you." He looks up at her then, vulnerable and raw, his expression filled with regret. "I was just so scared you wouldn’t feel the same."
Y/N takes a deep breath, her chest tight with emotion. She finally meets Lando's gaze, and the moment their eyes lock, it’s as if time slows. The words that have been tangled in her mind for so long finally slip free, and she whispers, "I do... feel the same way."
A small, almost hesitant smile begins to form on Lando’s face. It’s the kind of smile that tells her he’s been holding his breath, waiting for this moment, unsure if he’d ever hear the words he desperately needed to hear. His eyes soften as he takes a step closer, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s falling into place.
Lando’s hands gently cup her face, his touch tender and careful, as if she’s something precious he’s afraid of breaking. His thumbs lightly brush against her cheeks before he reaches up to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. He lets his fingers linger there for a moment, feeling the warmth of her skin under his touch, before his hand gently rests on the side of her neck.
There’s a quiet intensity in the air now, a shared understanding that neither of them wants to break.
Lando’s smile widens ever so slightly, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone in a way that sends a warm shiver down her spine. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that," he says softly, his voice still tinged with disbelief, as though he can’t quite believe this is happening.
Lando leans in, his forehead gently resting against hers, as if allowing the moment to sink in. There’s no rush, no need to fill the space with words anymore. All that’s left is the feeling between them—a feeling that says more than words ever could.
Lando’s breath catches as he hovers just inches from her face, his gaze flickering between her eyes and her lips. In a voice barely above a whisper, he murmurs, “I’m going to kiss you now.” his breath warm against her skin.
Y/N’s lips curl into a soft smirk, her eyes glinting with a mix of playfulness and something deeper. “About time,” she teases, her voice light, but there's a knowing edge to it. “For an F1 driver, you're quite slow.”
Lando’s eyes flash with amusement, a soft laugh escaping him as he shakes his head. “You’re lucky I really like you,” he responds, his voice warm with affection and the lingering hint of a smile. Before she can say another word, he closes the gap between them, his lips brushing gently against hers.
The kiss is slow at first, a gentle exploration, as if both of them are savouring the moment that’s been so long in the making. Lando’s hand moves to the back of her neck, pulling her a little closer as the kiss deepens, a surge of relief and longing finally being released between them. For all the uncertainty, the teasing, the games—they’re here now, and everything else fades away.
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figthoughts · 1 day ago
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How do u think Dean proposes?
oh bae, lots of thoughts on this,, loverboy!dean is back .ᐟ
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okay so call me cliché, but i fully believe dean is a very sentimental guy. i just know he’d be so giddy throughout the whole proposal process. before choosing a ring, i think he’d probably snoop through your jewellery to get an idea of what you like—maybe even going as far as asking your friends what they think you’d like for an engagement ring.
and dean’s definitely getting sam or cas to go with him to the jeweller’s when he’s finally decided. he’d be standing at the glass cabinets in front of the clerk, grinning and rambling about you like a bumbling idiot, clearly so head over heels for his ‘fiancée’ (yeah, he’s already calling you that to people before he’s even proposed).
and when he’s finally picked out your ring, he takes the next few days to plan out the perfect proposal. he knows he doesn’t want to do something over the top or too cheesy.
so he settles on something he knows you’d like. something that just seems so quintessentially you and dean.
dean picks you up in the impala, dressed to impress—but not suspiciously so—and flicks on your favourite love songs from the mixtape you made together a few years ago.
you both hum along, and he taps his hand on the steering wheel as he drives, trying to not let the proud grin show on his face at the fact he got your friends to help you pick out an appropriate outfit and a fresh new set of nails for the occasion. he knows you’ll thank him for that later. dean makes casual small talk, trying to appear as normal as possible, like this was any other regular date.
eventually he pulls the impala up at a familiar place—the place where he asked you to be his girlfriend. dean debated and contemplated between here, the cliff overlooking the lake not far from the bunker, or the little italian restaurant he took you to on your first date. he figured a more private setting would be better suited for his plans.
so as you joke about the sweet memories of this place, dean laughs, hoping you’re not catching on quite yet. you pull out the picnic blanket and lay it across the hood of the impala. you and dean take a seat on top of it and unpack the basket he’d packed for your afternoon picnic. he pulls out the sandwiches he’d sam made and the cherry pie, along with the attempted charcuterie board—keyword ‘attempted’. you compliment it nonetheless, and the efforts he’s gone to, even if the spread looks a little messy. you can tell it’s all been made with love, and that’s what’s important.
as the time with you passes, dean’s chest gets heavier and heavier with anxiety. his eyes flicker over your face and god, it hits him; he’s so in love with you. his heart races as the sun begins to set over the pair of you, colouring you both in warm amber hues. the sun reflects off the lake as the water ripples, and all dean can think is ‘please, let her say yes.’
dean just manages to keep up his nonchalant act, disguising his inner turmoil. he tries to keep everything seemingly lighthearted and normal, despite the doubt and fear plaguing his thoughts. the sun eventually dips down under the horizon, and he smiles at you, “wait here just a sec, baby. i left something in the car.”
he grabs some tealight candles and a piece of paper from the glove compartment and returns back to his place next to you on the hood.
instead he places the few candles between you, lighting them as you laugh and ask what’s going on, though by this point you’re beginning to put two and two together. dean looks up at you and lets out a nervous huff, plastering a smile on his face to cover the anxiety clenching at his chest.
“let just me just—” he says, fumbling with the paper in his hands. dean meets your gaze and studies you silently for a moment, taking in your beauty and how you seem to be giving him an almost encouraging expression. he nods and begins reading off his paper.
dean reads his scribbled words, his hands shaking as he holds the crumpled note, recounting all the memories you’ve made together and how he yearns to have a lifetime of more with you. he tells you how you’ve bettered him as a man and how he’d be nothing without you. he tells you how important you are to him and how much he strives to be as good and as kind as you one day. he tells you he can’t imagine a world where he’s not by your side.
dean finishes his speech by telling you why he loves you, and it’s not just superficial things. it’s things that make you feel seen and heard; things that only someone like him would notice and internalise. by the end of it, dean’s trying to swallow the lump in his throat that grew when he noticed your teary eyes looking back at him.
he sets down the paper and lets out a breath, trying to steel himself for the question he’s about to ask. he pulls out the ring box and holds it up in front of you in his shaking hands.
“will you marry me?”
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A/N: okay so this was meant to be like quick headcanoning points but here’s a story for u LOL this makes sense in my head for dean. i don’t think he’d do anything outrageously exuberant, like propose in front of a crowd or anything,, but anyways i hope this was sweet anon!!!
✩ taglist bc yolo: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4jackles @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @legalmente-loca @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @winchester-whiskey @emeraldcrs @freyabear @floralscented @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @deansbeer @artemys-ackles @bluemerakis @misatxox @star-yawnznn @ambiguous-avery @starzify @whisperingdaze @deanswidow @psychicnatural @ghostlyaccurate @k-slla
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ready-to-read7 · 2 days ago
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Prompt #6
Okay I don’t know much about Cassandra cain so some of the things in this prompt might be inaccurate
I have seen a few prompts of various members of the bat family or Other people adopting Danny most often it’s Jason or Batman or even John Constantine (involuntarily), and anyone who has read my other prompts know I absolutely adored de-aged prompts
And I also despite not knowing much about Cassandra I think she’s a unique and incredible character so I would like to think that she wouldn’t mind adopting a child, for the sake of this prompt she is maybe 18 or 19
So Danny after being captured by the G.I. W after bad Fenton parents reveal is like sadly tortured and Vivisected and so many other things to a point where he so injured that his core Reverts him to as young as possible to conserve energy but because he’s only half ghost he will have to relive his entire life to go back to his normal age and due to his much younger form now he has the mental capacity of his physical age and barely remembers anything but he still has torture trauma.
So Cassandra goes on a mission to some country or some part of America to investigate something and while there she comes across a lab that she was unaware of and she’s pretty sure no one else in the family knew about it either , and while investigating the lab she comes across a baby may be a few months old covered in scars of terrifying variation, so she does the sensible thing grabs the baby, steals as many files as she can, overrides the system to release any other prisoners, and  get the hell out of there.
 after getting the baby out she goes to settle in the private hotel room or private suite that Bruce got for her because he wanted her to stay comfortable while dealing with a very long mission and even though her original plan was to go back immediately after finishing the mission because she knew she would be able to finish it quickly but now she decides to take the entire time Bruce gave her to first figure out what to do with the baby and it doesn’t take her long to decide to pull a Bruce Wayne and adopt the baby .
reading the files that she stole she learned that his name is Danny and he is something known as an ecto being, the files straight up say that they are  non-sentient and non-feeling, and that they are simply made up of emotions and ectoplasm, but what she saw clearly does not align with what these files say because everybody she spotted there no matter how few of them there were, they were clearly  either distressed, sad, scared or  in pain, whatever the hell this G.I.W was clearly violating so many laws, not to mention she read something in the files about an anti- ecto act and as far as she is aware nothing like that was ever allowed by the government since technically based on these reports ecto beings are creatures from another world or universe which technically makes them fall under the alien protection acts, and she was definitely going to tell the bats  about this.
so while spending a month in this specific place she somehow in some way adopts Danny as her own child without the help of any of the other bats , somehow finds a way to interact with the Infinite realms and talk to frostbite (probably thanks to one of the other ghosts that she released)  and she learns a lot from frostbite and the other ghosts that offered to help her.
She learns that Danny is  the crown prince of the infinite realms and she also learns that Danny is only half ghost he is still half a life and she’s kinda happy to learn that he’s not technically a dead child fully at least, she also learned a lot of ghost customs as she gets to know her new baby boy ( I feel like Cassondra is the type of person to want to know everything important or relevant in this type of situation so technically learning the customs and culture of her new son is something she would try to learn as much as possible about).
after a month of spending time with her new baby boy and learning stuff about his culture and also she learned  from frostbite that  apparently due to her interaction and care of Danny he has formed  a familial bond with her meaning he recognizes her as his mother, frostbite also gave her his summoning  sigil just in case she needs to call him for an emergency, she leaves to return home and give her entire family heart attacks over the fact that she has a baby now.
When she returns it’s late at night and the only person in the mansion is Alfred  ( because Duke was assisting with a case and everyone else was obviously on patrol) who greets her and is a little surprised to see her holding a baby boy, and Cassandra with minimal words would explain to Alfred that she found this boy, she adopted him and that he’s not human fully at least, Alfred obviously knowing how unusual this family is accepted it  because there’s a new family member and he absolutely loves it when the family expands not  to mention this will be the first ever baby in the family since master Bruce was born, so he immediately gets Cassondra settled in one of the living rooms with the baby, and brings them a few snacks before he sits down to talk with her for a bit and then goes to the Batcave to wait for everyone so he could lead them up to the living room for the surprise.
Most of the bat family would be in the Batcave and would obviously wonder why Alfred was just waiting in the Batcave in front of the elevator for them he would first tell them to go get changed and cleane up and then to follow him because Miss Cassandra has returned and she has a surprise for the family..
After everyone finishes cleaning up and getting changed into normal clothes Alfred leads them all to the living room Cassandra was in and at first they only see her head over the couch but as they get closer they hear giggling? Babbling? They all go to look over the couch to see Cassandra holding a baby, a black haired blue-eyed baby fully awake and playing with something while sitting in Cassandra’s lap. Cassandra obviously knew when they entered the room. And she would quietly introduce everyone to the newest member of the family Daniel or Danny cain.
(this was originally supposed to be a short prompt but it kept going there was so many things I wanted to add so technically this became a prompt/ short story but I hope you liked it)
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stargazedwinchester · 1 day ago
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Birthday ♡ Dean
Summary: You bake for Dean on his birthday. Word Count: 727 I know it was Dean's birthday a few days ago but I thought I'd do a little imagine for him <3
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Dean isn’t one to celebrate, well… anything. Christmas and birthdays are just regular days. The brothers are just glad they make it through every year. This year, you want to change it up.
You had gone to the grocery store earlier this morning whilst Dean was in bed. He somehow didn’t feel you get up, nor hear you leave the bunker. Luckily enough, he was still snoozing when you got back. You haven’t baked much since you first left home - so you’re hoping your skills aren’t rusty. You’re planning on cooking Dean some sort of birthday pie - you picked up some fruit; cherries, raspberries and apples. Dean isn’t picky, obviously, but you just can’t wait to see the look on his face when he notices how many pies you’ve made for him.
You take the fruit and mash it up in a plastic bowl, picking up a round cake tin and preparing the ready-made pastry. Leaving the fruit to the side, you stretch the pastry to fit the pan, pressing the tip of the fork to make a dotted pattern at the bottom of the pie to allow airflow. Pouring the fruit mixture in, you add a little bit of sugar for sweetness, and take the remaining bit of pastry and create a pattern for the top of the pie.
You also bought birthday candles whilst you were out - the ones that don’t blow out. It’ll be hilarious watching him try to blow the candles out. You turn around to preheat the oven, spinning back round to apply the finishing touches to Dean’s pie. You do this with the other two as well.
As the pies were cooking, you prepared the kitchen island with a long table runner to go across, decorated it with candles and plates and cutlery. You also blew up some balloons, ones that read ‘Birthday Boy!’. Once the pies are done, you take them out of the oven and attempt to take them out of the tin as carefully as possible. It’s almost noon, and you’re certain Dean will wake at any moment. You don’t want to rush, but you feel the need to have it finished before he tries to find you. You lightly push the candles on the cherry pie, quickly lighting them and hearing familiar footsteps approach the kitchen.
“Y/N?” Dean calls, his eyes suddenly falling on the birthday candles. His eyes light up as he glances over at you, standing there bashfully. “Happy Birthday, Dean!” You yell, throwing your arms in the air. Dean laughs, but not at you. He laughs because no one has done this for him before, no one has put this much effort into making three pies all for him. To decorate the kitchen with balloons and candles to the best of your ability with the resources you have. His eyes are glimmering, the flicker of the flames reflecting on his skin. You rush over to him and his arms wrap tightly around you. When he pulls away, he’s taken aback by his view. “Wow, Y/N,” he says, the smile on his face is plastered on. “You did all this?” He asks, his hand motioning toward the pies. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to surprise you.” You blush, the fact that he’s so stunned by all your effort makes your heart somersault.
“This is amazing. Thank you.”
“Here, blow your candles out.” You usher him toward the pie, and he takes a deep breath, blowing on the flames. Dean attempts to cheer, but notices that the candles re-light themselves. You watch his face, he’s clearly bewildered, his eyebrows furrowing and his eyes concentrate on the flames. “What the-”
Dean goes to blow the candles out again, and you can’t help but guffaw at the candles re-lighting once again. “What the hell is going on?” He asks, a gruffness in his voice that sounds a little too serious. “Dean,” you can only just make out, and Dean blows them out again. The flame weakly reignites, and he blows them out once more. “You can’t blow them out. They’re magic candles.” You chuckle, tears forming in your eyes at Deans expense. Dean looks at you as if you’re joking. You can’t help but laugh anyway.
“Happy birthday, baby.” You say through laughter, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Thank you, Y/N. This is great.”
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yyaktayak · 3 days ago
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Chapter 6 📌
tags: @uceyliyahh @charmed-dreamssss @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account
Kimaya's POV
It was hard not to feel like the weight of the world was pressing down on me. With every passing day, the distance between Jey and me felt like it was stretching further. Sure, we texted, we called, but it wasn't the same. I missed him in a way that made my chest ache—his laugh, the way his eyes would light up when he saw me, the way his hand felt in mine.
I'd tried to keep busy, but the nights were the hardest. It was when I was lying awake in bed, scrolling through old pictures of us, that it hit me the hardest. I wanted him here. And no matter how many times he promised me that he was thinking of me, I still felt the sting of *missing* him.
That morning, Kaveri and I had been out running errands. I wasn't really in the mood for shopping or anything else, but she insisted. "You've got to get out of the house, girl," she'd said. "Jey would want you to live your best life, even when he's not around."
I wasn't so sure, but I'd gone along with it anyway, mostly to shut her up. After grabbing a coffee, we were wandering through a boutique when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting it to be another meme from the group chat or a random text from my mom.
But when I saw the name on the screen, my heart skipped a beat. *Jey*.
I answered immediately.
"Hey, baby," I said, trying to sound cheerful, though there was a slight tremor in my voice.
"Hey, gorgeous," Jey's voice came through, sounding like he'd just woken up. "How's your day going?"
"It's fine. Just out with Kaveri," I said. "Nothing special."
There was a pause on the other end. I could almost feel him grinning through the phone.
"Where are you right now?" he asked, his voice suddenly sounding more serious.
I frowned, glancing at Kaveri, who was thumbing through a rack of clothes. "I'm at this boutique on Main Street. Why?"
"Good," he said, voice dropping lower. "Stay where you are. I'll be there in five minutes."
My heart skipped again. "What? Jey, what are you talking about?"
"Just trust me," he replied. "I'll explain when I get there."
I glanced at Kaveri, who was eyeing me now, clearly intrigued by my conversation. "I'll be right back," I said to her before hanging up.
I stepped outside the store, my mind racing. What could Jey possibly be up to? Why was he here? Was he already back from tour? No, he'd said he wouldn't be back for another week. I shook my head, confused and excited all at once.
I didn't have to wait long. Just a few minutes later, a sleek black SUV pulled up in front of the boutique. My heart started pounding as the driver stepped out and opened the door. And then—there he was.
Jey.
He was wearing a baseball cap and a black hoodie, but there was no mistaking him. He looked exhausted, but there was a wide grin plastered on his face, the kind that made my stomach flip every time. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him approach.
"What are you doing here?" I whispered, barely able to hold it together.
Jey pulled me into his arms without a word, holding me tightly as if he hadn't seen me in years instead of just a week. His familiar scent—the mix of cologne and sweat from his tour—surrounded me, and I immediately felt all the tension in my body melt away.
"I couldn't wait any longer," he said, pulling back slightly to look me in the eyes. "I miss you too much, Kimaya. I had to come see you."
I blinked up at him, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face. "But... I thought you were still on tour?"
"I was," he said, grinning. "But I've got a little break, and I decided I couldn't spend another minute without you. So I took the first flight back."
My heart swelled at his words, and I couldn't help but laugh through the sudden wave of emotion. "You're insane," I said, wiping at my eyes, though I was smiling the entire time. "You didn't have to do this. I can't believe you're here."
"I *wanted* to do this," Jey replied, taking my hand and leading me to the car. "Now let's get you away from this place, yeah?"
I followed him to the SUV, still trying to process what was happening. Jey had *really* come back just to surprise me. I didn't know whether to be amazed or overwhelmed.
As we climbed into the backseat, Jey pulled something from his pocket—a small black box. He handed it to me with a shy grin, the first time I'd seen him look vulnerable in a while.
"Open it," he said softly, his eyes searching mine.
My heart raced as I carefully pried open the box. Inside was a silver ring—simple, but elegant. It had a soft sheen, and it seemed to glimmer even in the dim light of the car.
"Jey, what—"
"It's not a promise ring, Kimaya," he said, his voice serious now. "But it's something I wanted you to have. I don't care what people think. You're mine, and I'm yours. No more wondering, no more second-guessing. I'm with you. Always."
I stared at the ring for a moment, completely overwhelmed by the depth of his words. It wasn't an engagement ring, not yet, but it felt like something even more significant—like a symbol of everything we'd shared and everything that was to come. I could barely speak as I slid the ring onto my finger.
"Jey," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," he said with a smile, leaning in to kiss my forehead. "Just know that I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
For the first time in days, I felt at peace. He was here. And nothing else mattered.
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iamrazorbehavior: my forevers💕 #myfavs #hiswife
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*A/N: And just like that, Jey's back! I hope you guys are feeling the love (and maybe a little jealous, too 😉). I'm dying to know your thoughts—how would you feel if your partner surprised you like this? Leave a comment below and let's chat!*
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miraculouslbcnreactions · 24 hours ago
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The fandom can't make up its mind on what's supposed to be a joke and what's supposed to be serious because the show can't either half the time. It's a tonally disjointed mess that wants to have absurd over-the-top humor as well as a plot and moments of drama, romance, and angst that demand you see the characters as people and feel for what they're going through. Except you can't do that without also treating the dumb bullshit in a somewhat grounded way. Like, you're still dealing with the same characters. You can't just go "Oh, that? Let's ignore that!" the moment it's no longer convenient to you. You've opened this can of worms and now you have to sleep in it. So, every character flip-flops between two different versions of themselves depending on what the writers need in any particular scene.
This is not to say surreal humor can't be used right alongside characters you're supposed to empathize with, Teen Titans (not Go) did that and it worked. It's just that the absurdity can only come from the setting (Mad Mod, Mother Mae-Eye, pretty much anything Control Freak is in) or from designated joke characters (Date With Destiny). Teen Titans never had the main characters acting in clearly absurd ways as the butt of a joke unless those characters were brainwashed somehow, because the writers knew that would ruin any of the more grounded moments they wanted to write. The writers of Miraculous missed the memo on that one.
I don't disagree. A perfect example is Derision where the show takes all of the bad jokes about Marinette's crush and decides to take them seriously as if you can possible take them seriously without making Marinette come across as unhinged and dangerous. You can't, which brings us to the topic at hand: how do you even begin to understand these characters when the show is constantly making character-breaking choices?
My approach - and the approach I recommend others take if they're going to keep watching the show - is to focus on the characters' cores and reject anything canon does to violate those cores. I don't argue for this stance because I love the characters so much that I only want the good things to count. I take this stance because, if you don't, then the characters fall apart. There is no way to make them work as fully realized characters while embracing every choice canon has made. Miraculous has massive characterization issues that go well beyond the humor.
For example, Adrien has multiple moments of terrible behavior that are played in a serious manner such as the moment in the episode Frozer where he tries to start a fight with Ladybug in the middle of an akuma attack because she wouldn't accept a rose from him earlier:
Setup
Ladybug: I can't accept this rose from you. I told you already. I'm in love with someone else. Cat Noir: I know, M'lady. But if he weren't here, would things be different between us? Ladybug: Well, you know, I can't even begin to imagine him not being here. I'm sorry, Cat Noir. I really gotta get going, and you better do the same. (Swings her yo-yo to head back home; Cat Noir is sad, looking downwards, with one petal of the rose falling.)
Payoff
Ladyice: Cat Noir. We need to set up a trap for whoever turned the city into a giant ice rink. (throws yo-yo) Icecat: (bitterly) My feline instincts prefer to track and observe before I attack. You go your way, I'll go mine. Ladyice: Please don't tell me you're mad at me about the rose. Icecat: There may be a certain chill now between us. Ladyice: I get it, but we should really focus on saving Paris right now. Icecat: We don't always have to do everything together, after all. It's not like we're a couple. (skates away)
There's no way to argue this off as a bad joke. While Adrien has every right to feel hurt, those feelings don't excuse him acting like a pouting child in the middle of an akuma fight. It doesn't excuse him acting like this at any point! Ladybug is not a villain for telling him no. She wasn't even mean about it!
I clearly fully agree that Adrien looks awful and selfish here, but I'd still argue that it's not something that should be used to define Adrien's character if your goal is to tell the "ideal" version of Miraculous. "Ideal" being the version that canon seems to be going for based on the overall picture we can sort of make out if we back way, way, way up and look at the extremely abstract picture canon is clumsily painting.
Unless canon is going to do something monumentally stupid, Adrien is Marinette's endgame romantic interest. It's also clear that there is no plan to cut him from the team. He's going to be Chat Noir for the rest of his life or at least well into his adulthood. This means that he is supposed to be a good hero who deserves his miraculous just like he's supposed to be a charming and cute romantic lead. These are the two things I keep in mind when trying to shift through canon to figure out what writing choices I should fully embrace and what writing choices I have to either ignore or treat as true flaws that get an actual character arc. In my book, either approach is fine because most of the characters are deeply flawed at this point and you can't give them all arcs without bloating the story to nonsense levels.
My goal with this approach is never to say, "oh, that moment shouldn't count in terms of how people feel about the character." It's more, "that moment goes so hard against who this character is very clearly supposed to be that I can't take it into account if I want to tell the kind of story that Miraculous is trying (and clearly failing) to tell."
As an example, let's list off Adrien's worst behaviors. The things that make him look terrible:
He sucks at communicating his needs and feelings, leading to multiple moments where he gets mad at Ladybug for things she's totally unaware of
He has quit or considered quitting without warning multiple times and only one of those was because of something he did "wrong" (NYC Special)
He puts his feelings before the safety of Paris on multiple occasions, even going so far to purposely miss akuma fights to see what happens
He is incredibly pushy about his crush, often ignoring Ladybug's feelings on the topic by continuing to bring it up even after she asked him to stop
There have been multiple instances where he almost cataclysmed multiple people in a fit of anger
His love for Ladynette isn't strong enough to let him break free of things like akumas and nightmare dust even when he's looking her in the eyes making him a pretty crappy romantic lead
People will argue that some of this behavior makes sense for his character because of the abuse that canon has technically introduced, but that the writers seem blissfully unaware of. I don't disagree with that argument, but that doesn't change the fact that none of this is acceptable behavior for a hero and Adrien is a hero who keeps doing these things. A sad backstory doesn't give you the right to behave poorly without consequences.
At the same time, if I fully embrace these elements of canon, what I get is an Adrien salt fic where he loses his miraculous for good while Marinette finds her real true love or even just a non-salty fic where Adrien leaves for his own meatal health and gets replaced by someone who can handle being a hero right now. Canon's not writing either of those, so the only way to engage with these flaws while enjoying canon or aiming for the same end goals as canon is to say, "I guess this doesn't count" or "I guess I need to tone this way down and work through it via a character arc" or even "I guess that was just a bad joke maybe?"
That is the essence of what I mean when I call myself a writing salt, character sugar blog. It comes from looking at canon and seeing that there's simply no way to embrace the worst moments and the best at the same time. We're not dealing with a coherent plot and/or complex characters. We're dealing with a nonsense plot that will warp the characters to bizarre shapes to make random ideas work even if those idea go wildly against canon's end goals.
As an example, Glaciator and Frozer should not exist in the same universe or, at the very least, something should explain why Chat Noir randomly changed his stance on Ladybug's crush from acceptance to pushiness. As is, the pieces don't fit together. The behavior is too contradictory. Remember, this is how Glaciator ends:
Perhaps Ladybug will love me someday. I mean, like, I love her. I have to believe. In the meantime, her friendship is the best gift of all.
Where did this version of Adrien go? Why did he regress in Frozer? There's no in-universe reason. It happened because the writers weren't ready to let the love square date or grow close, but they also wanted the love square to cause drama, so Adrien ends up looking terrible just like Marinette ends up looking terrible when it's her turn to cause love square drama. Her terribleness takes a different flavor so it can be hard to realize that this is a systemic issue, but that's what it is. It's deeply frustrating, but it also clearly stems from cheap writing and not quality characterization.
This is also why my stance is that canon as a whole only supports my Doyalistic core-character analysis style of approach. The writing is too poor quality to do Watsonian analysis where you embrace the full picture and try to put it all together. The closest I'll get to Watsonian analysis is pointing out how much the writing botches a Watsonian take by showing you all the way the writing contradicts itself, twisting into a nonsense pretzel of frustration where the payoffs never satisfy! (See the season four rant for an example or anything where I talked about Chloe's supposed damnation arc.)
There are even characters where canon is such a total mess that you can Doyalistically argue for two separate takes! Gabriel is a perfect example. He is all over the place and his ending was so poorly handled that you can make strong arguments for writing him as a cold-hearted villain or a sympathetic villain without the end result feeling like it spits in the face of canon because both takes maintain his one core element: villain.
That's the big thing I keep in mind when I look at the characters and the lore and the plots and try to come up with versions that the average fan would like. I don't think that there's one true version of any of these things, but I do feel comfortable saying that there are versions that will very clearly only appeal to people who are salty about a specific thing that canon did poorly. That's not who I want to appeal to in my adaptions, so while I'm not going to argue that those takes have no backing in canon, I will argue that those takes are not supported by canon as a whole. Embracing them requires you to take the worst parts of canon at face value while ignoring what canon is clearly trying to do with the overall story.
I get the appeal of that, but it's not fun for me because that approach feels like rolling around in the mud with the pigs. I don't want to sink to canon's level! I want to have fun! That's why I talk about how to make canon into its best self, not its worst self. If you want its worst self, just go watch the actual show. I will be shocked it if disappoints you.
#anon ask#ml writing critical#ml writing salt#pandaofsecrets#character core#Once again none of this is meant to excuse any specific actions as “not that bad”#This is just me explaining how I approach the characters#I know there are fics out there that try to be sugar while embracing some of the bad parts of canon and that rarely works for me#To address these issues correctly you basically have to rewrite canon with the goal of properly setting up and addressing a specific issue#You can't just jump into canon as-is and fix anything in a truly satisfying way because canon is such a disaster#Lila and Alya is a perfect example#Alya's writing in Lila's episodes goes so hard against who Alya is supposed to be that you have to completely rework Lila and/or her lies#Which is why my list of favorite Lila takedowns is so short#Even the ones that are kind to Alya have her painfully gullible because of how badly written the Lila stuff was#You can't have Alya smart and clever while including all the things she's canonically done in the Lila plot and I hate it#Season five at least temporarily killed the fun of writing for this fandom for me#I hope to get it back so I can finish my in progress stuff because I really do love these characters#Canon just makes it so hard to have fun these days#The stuff I've heard about season six is just depressing#I hope my love for the characters and ideas comes through on this blog in addition to my frustration#I wouldn't be here if I just hated everything about the show#Canon is so beyond saving that I can't even read a lot of non-salty fanfic these days#The stuff that tries to embrace the later seasons while also giving happy endings just depresses me because it never works.#I can only read early canon stuff AUS and reboots#Only way I can enjoy the fandom is to treat canon as a popular but horrible fanfic that a bunch of the fandom is embracing for some reason
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yelenaslyubov · 3 days ago
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The Holiday ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
main masterlist || florence pugh || requests
a/n: here’s my late christmas gift to you all! i’m sorry it took so long to get written, but i hope you enjoy🫶
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: florence pugh x female reader
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+) smut- reader receiving, fingering, face riding, language, praise
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: based on the film ‘the holiday,’ you decide to break out of your routine and book a trip for christmas after being cheated on. when you arrive, you find that it’s much lonelier than you expected. one night, a stranger knocks on your door and changes the stakes of your trip.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 2.9k
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The holidays suddenly became detestable. A cheerful time of year that helped you wind down from a hectic year came crashing down the minute you got the news—your girlfriend had been cheating on you for your receptionist at work.
Even though things hadn’t been working out for the two of you as of late, you figured this was just another bump in the road. This all ended the moment your girlfriend spent late nights at the office ‘working.’
You couldn’t lie, you had been focusing too much on work and not enough on your social life. It wasn’t all your girlfriend’s fault, but in the moment the blame fell on her.
The moment the confession happened you kicked her out. You were grateful now that you had never moved out of your house for her.
As reality sat in, you realized you needed to get out. Your life became suffocating in an instant and there was no way you could stay here. That was the hard part.
There were others who relied on you. Your job was too demanding. You never went anywhere if you could help it. You had to be sick or dying for there to be a lull in your work. This was one of those times you felt like dying.
It wasn’t that you were necessarily upset at the break up. You both had been having problems so ultimately you knew you needed it. What made you most nervous was the change of it all. You weren’t sure where you were going from here but you hoped it would only go up.
You got to work quickly by arranging plans for your departure. You wanted to go somewhere far away, somewhere that work couldn’t even interfere. England was apparently a good bet.
While searching destinations, you came across a quaint little cottage along the countryside that caught your eye. You investigated further which led you to find that the owner was looking to swap houses for two weeks. Each individual would have full access to each other’s houses, cars, etc. This was enough for you to be intrigued.
And so, you were off. Two weeks of nothing but quiet and relaxation. It was all you could hope for…until it wasn’t.
Upon arriving a few hours prior, you found yourself already growing bored. You explored the small cabin, watched television in bed with a bottle of wine, and tried your best to get along with the dog. Apparently the quiet and relaxation wasn’t all you dreamed of.
Just as quickly as you came, you dragged your suitcase out from under the bed and began packing your things in a disorganized frenzy. You were almost too focused to realize that there was a knock on the door until the dog started barking. You rushed down the stairs to see who could possibly be behind the strangers door.
“Hello!” the voice yelled. “Are you home?”
“Uhm, who is it?” you called apprehensively. It felt strange calling to someone from a house that is not yours.
“Iris, it’s Florence, open the fucking door before I take a piss in your flower pot!”
You abruptly opened the door to reveal a clearly drunk and sheepish looking woman. You couldn’t deny your immediate attraction to her since she was quite pleasing to look at.
“You’re not Iris,” the woman said. “Or if you are, I am much drunker than I realize.”
“I’m… I’m not,” you responded with an awkward laugh, not knowing exactly how to respond. Glances were exchanged between the two of you, studying each other from head to toe.
“I hate to interrupt this moment, but can I?” The woman motioned towards the entrance of the house.
“Oh, yes! I’m sorry, the bathroom is- well I assume you know.”
The woman rushed inside, but turned around back towards you quickly. “I’m Florence by the way, Iris’s little sister.”
She went as she was before and hurried into the restroom. You continued to talk, as to not make the entire situation more awkward than it already was.
“Ohhh, sister,” you said, the interaction all making sense. I’m y/n y/l/n, did Iris not tell you she was leaving?”
The toilet flushed from behind the door and out came Florence once again, bumping into a side table close by on her way out. “Honestly, she might have, but as you can see, I’m- I have been preoccupied more or less… as you can see.”
“She’s in Los Angeles.”She laughed, the kind of laugh that vibrates through your throat as if you had just told her the joke of the century.
“That’s not possible. Iris never goes anywhere.”
“I guess we kind of have that in common with each other,” you joked. “She listed her house on a home exchange website, so now here I am in my pajamas… in her house.”
“I can see that,” Florence smirked while also leaning a little too close to comfort towards you. “I’m just going to do myself a solid and sit down before I tackle you down with me.”
After the woman sat down, she wavered from side to side, looking as if she might tumble over any minute. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” she chuckled. “I’m sorry about my intrusion.”
“Oh please, this is more your house than mine.”
“Despite what it looks like, I’m Iris’s semi-respectable little sister. I’ve been visiting the local pub one too many times lately and my sister usually helps me out. Unfortunately, it’s become a bit of a routine lately… so, how’s it going for you?”
“Well, not so good actually. I’m leaving on a flight tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh… when did you get here again?”
You laughed. “About 6 hours ago.”
“Well we sure made a good impression on you, didn’t we?” Florence joked.
“No, no everyone has been welcoming,” you reassured her. “It’s just that… I haven’t quite been myself lately, and I thought by putting myself out there and coming here, I would feel less lonely. It turns out I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life.”
You waited for a response from Florence, but she sat quietly on the couch listening to you intently.
“Bet you’re glad you knocked on this door,” you chuckled.
“I am,” she spoke softly, topping it off with a smile. “So, since I’m clearly in a vulnerable state and I won’t remember a thing by morning, why is it that you haven’t quite felt yourself?”
“I just broke up with someone… yesterday. I thought doing this one thing for myself would help, but clearly life had other plans for me.”
You smiled and looked down towards the floor. You felt a little sorry for yourself, you couldn’t lie. This stranger had just endured your sad story of how you came to be in her sister’s house. It was quite pathetic now that you reflected.
“I really hate to be a bother, but do you mind if I crash here?” she asked. “I know you’re not my sister, but I’m afraid if I’m unsupervised I may find myself in a bit of a pickle.”
“Oh, yes of course. Let me grab you a blanket…” You pretended as if you knew your way around the cottage, as if someone who had been here millions of times wasn’t right in front of you.
“It’s in the cabinet below the TV.”
“Thanks,” you smiled. You opened the cabinet and found a stack of quilts and picked one off the top. You brought it over to Florence and she took it gently.
“I appreciate it. I promise in the morning, we’ll forget all about this silly interaction and I’ll be out of your hair.”
Her aversion to be in close proximity with you stung a little more than you had anticipated. You had just met this woman and for some reason you were sad about her leaving.
“I promise, it’s no problem,” you reassured her.
Florence smiled back and the two of you were face to face, standing towards each other. It was as if one of you was waiting to say or do something that would prolong your conversation. There was a tension that hung like a thick cloud over you both. You could cut it like a knife.
“Well then,” Florence huffed, “sweet dreams.”
Though her goodnight did not just stop at her farewell. In her drunken state, she leaned in close until
her lips found yours. You would have moved if it weren’t for your mind begging you to stay, telling you to savor this moment as long as you could.
This was only your mind speaking because your face told a different story; wide eyed and stunned. You weren’t sure what your next move was as this was the last thing you expected tonight.
Once Florence realized what she had done, she pulled away briskly. “I… don’t know why I did that, I’m so sorry. Clearly I’m much drunker than I realized.”
“It’s okay, I-I don’t mind,” you reassured her awkwardly.
She stood inches away from you again, her eyes roaming back and forth over your face taking everything in. “If you don’t mind, then I’d like to try that again.”
She wasted no time, pulling you in by your face now, not shying away from making you feel needed. The kiss was deeper and longer, allowing you to test the waters and prepare for its softness.
Florence pulled away again, slower this time. As you processed the events that led up to this, you hummed.
“Hmm,” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Bad?” Florence asked.
“Not bad, just weird.” You plopped down on the couch with a spring.
“Weird? Weird how?”
“I’ve spent so much time with the same person, that's all I’ve known. Now, I’m here in this strange place, with a person I’ve never met… and it’s kind of exciting.” You smiled and Florence smiled back, a cheeky grin.
“That’s why… I think it would be better if we just slept together,” you spat out quickly. You looked over at Florence to see how she received the information, which seemed surprisingly well. “It’s just this whole knowing I won’t see you again thing is kind of hot.”
Florence was mindlessly fiddling with your hair; twirling it around your fingers and placing it behind your ear. This wasn’t helping your case.
There was a silence that was filled by the crackling fireplace and the distant Christmas tunes playing upstairs. You waited for her response, ensuring that it was something she also wanted.
“I don’t think I have a problem with that one bit, babe,” Florence smirked.
The flood gates then burst, both of you grabbing at one another like animals. You had never had such a deep reaction to a stranger before, the feeling being so unfamiliar. You pulled away again to catch a breath and out of your own insecurity.
“I’ve been told I’m not too great at this sort of thing,” you told her. She never stopped, kissing your neck to fill the emptiness of your lips.
“What thing?” she mumbled against your skin
“You know… sex.”
Florence stopped, lifting her head up and meeting your eyes. “I’ll be the judge of that, love.”
Without any other hesitation, Florence lifted your sweater off and started just as she had begun. She kissed you harder, her tongue filling your mouth with inexplicable desire. You each exchanged whimpers that vibrated off of one another.
Florence pulled your body down with her as she lowered herself down onto the couch. You were now straddled on either side of her while you leaned down to continue.
Her mouth was like magic and you were her muse. You never experienced a need to be savored this much in your life. She filled the void of everything and everyone who had come before.
You were pulled from your thoughts when her hand snaked into your sweatpants, over your underwear. You gasped at your own sensitivity.
“Been awhile, eh?” Florence whispered, not stopping even at your squirming.
“Embarrassingly so, it seems.”
“Good, makes it more fun,” she giggled hoarsely.
For a few brief moments, she just stared. She stared so deep into your eyes while advancing her fingers into your underwear. She wanted you exactly like this, at her mercy.
“Is this alright?” she asked before going any further. You nodded your head but that wasn’t enough. “Use your words, I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes,” you answered, “yes.” That was all that it took, your answer lit a fire beneath her that ignited at your touch.
“I need these off, baby.” Florence tugged on your pants. “I can’t do much with you trapped in these pants. I need to touch you.”
You each wrestled off your pants and underwear, leaving you with nothing. “Don’t let me have all the fun,” you laughed, pulling Florence’s shirt off as well. “That’s better.”
Everything felt right now, each of you bare for one another with nothing but the cold as a barrier. You leaned down once again to lock lips with your beautiful stranger. She was clearly eager as her fingers found your wet center, no longer trapped beneath fabric.
Her two fingers spread your pussy apart, getting a feel of your everything. Your body shuttered above her, not used to the feeling. It didn’t take her long to make circles and rub her fingers on your clit. It was practically the only thing she could think about since she arrived.
You couldn’t stop yourself from squirming and moving your hips on her fingers to gain more friction. “Fuck,” Florence whispered against your lips. “You look so good like this.”
Her two fingers went farther and slipped inside your cunt, curving inward making you moan. “Shit, right there,” you whined.
“Keep making those sounds, baby girl,” Florence said as her lips traveled away from your lips.
She kissed down your cheek to your neck, sucking on the surface. Her fingers were relentless and you wanted to scream when her teeth bit down hard on the side of your neck.
Your hips kept moving, riding her fingers so deeply that the rest of the world went away. She wanted to taste every part of you, now moving on to your chest.
Her tongue poked out of her mouth, reaching for your hardened nipple. She drew her tongue in circles around your nipple, the sensation sending sparks throughout your body. Her lips latched on, sucking and pulling on your nerves so delicately.
Her actions started pushing you over the edge. “I think I’m close,” you moaned breathlessly.
Florence took this as a queue to finish out stronger. Her lips resumed their place on your own lips and she slipped her fingers out of you to rub your clit harder and quicker than before.
“I want you to cum on my fingers. Come on, baby,” Florence encouraged you.
Your body was practically twitching with pleasure as you let go. She whispered a string of praises as you rode out your high. Your chest rose and fell quickly as you tried to catch your breath. When you looked down at Florence, a mischievous grin was painted on your face.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” she smiled. She shimmied down the couch until your dripping center was hovering above her face. “I’ve wanted to taste you all night.”
You tried to prepare yourself for contact, but nothing could prepare you for the feeling of her tongue against your pussy. The sensation had you gripping onto the arm of the couch for support.
“Holy shit,” you whimpered.
She was so gentle at first, testing out the waters and savoring every moment between your legs. She moved her tongue up and down, exploring each part of you. Then, flattening her tongue to make a harder surface, her hands that were grabbing onto your hips guided them back and forth. She wanted you grinding on her tongue just like her fingers. She loved watching you beg without using words.
You knew you wouldn’t last long, but that wasn’t the point. All she wanted was to taste what she did to you. She was admiring her masterpiece.
“Florence- I can’t,” you said.
Without warning your second high came over you. It was harder than the first, and louder than the first. You practically fell on top of her as you finished.
In a flash, you suddenly became aware of the events that took place. You saw Florence’s accomplished grin and noticed your disheveled hair.
“You should… probably get some sleep,” you told her, an attempt to brush off the intimacy the two of you shared.
“I think I might find that a bit hard now,” she smiled. You stood up from the couch and lost your balance with shaking legs. “Woah there, babe. I thought I was the intoxicated one.”
“I guess I could use some sleep myself,” you laughed. “And a clean up.”
“You take this with you,” Florence gestured to the blanket you offered her to sleep. “I’ll make do with another.”
You wrapped the blanket around you, disguising your naked body. The blanket dragged behind you as you walked towards the stairs and started to walk up.
“Oh, y/n,” she got your attention. “Whoever said you were bad in bed was a liar.”
Your cheeks flushed and you smiled at the floor. “Goodnight,” you said to her.
With that, you cleaned yourself up and crawled into bed. Sleep did not find you very well that night, as you hoped you may see her face in the morning once more.
.
.
.
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apollos-boyfriend · 6 months ago
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used my time stuck on the plane to elaborate on my jeff origin + his relationship with liu thoughts bc they are long long overdue,,,,
the thing with jeff’s “origin” is that i don’t think he actually remembers a lot of it. the kid had every painkiller imaginable pumped into him and then some, so a lot of it is a blur to him. most of his knowledge on that night actually comes from what he heard after the fact from the news and such. he doesn’t TELL anyone that of course. if you ask him about it he’ll claim to remember all of it in stark clarity alongside the reason why he did it. the truth is he doesn’t fully know, but he’s pretty much convinced himself of what he must’ve been thinking
because every killer has an equally killer origin story, so he needed one too. he’d never put his name on the map if he didn’t do something drastic, so obviously, killing his family as a necessary sacrifice to becoming who he is today
jeff’s parents were perfectly fine parents, he thinks. (they weren’t, not really, but jeff was far too young to realize that.) he didn’t have anything against them, at least nothing more than any average teenage boy. but it was necessary. so he did what needed to be done
jeff killed his parents because he felt he had to. he killed liu because he loved him. because good killers had to give up something they loved to understand true loss. to understand what they were taking from their victims. to prove they were worthy and not just cowards hiding behind a blade. he knew there would be nothing left for liu, anyways. jeff would have to leave and he couldn’t take liu with him, couldn’t provide for him, and with their parents gone, there was no real family left for liu. their remaining relatives were distant. killing liu was both a sacrifice and a mercy.
so to say it comes as a shock to him to learn that liu is alive is an understatement. he’s almost . . . angry about it. could liu not see his sacrifice? did liu not love him enough to lay down and accept jeff’s gift? how dare he spit in jeff’s face like that and live? liu had been his perfect finale. a murder of necessity and a murder of love. the isaac to his abraham, the piece that proved he’d sacrificed and bled for this life and that he deserved a spot among the greats. it wasn’t fair.
although, there’s a part of him is relieved liu’s alive. relieved and happy to have his brother back, to share in the same twisted hobby as him. because in the end, jeff had done it because he loved his brother. because he knew he’d ruined liu’s life and didn’t want to put his brother through that when it wasn’t the life he deserved. but another part of him, a larger, twisted part, resents liu for living. for “leaving” him and growing up without him. for having the gall to defy the fate jeff had so lovingly created for him.
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corntired · 4 months ago
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LMFAO
I had such a stressful day at work that the app connected to a smartband im usually wearing told me to listen to some calming music as it detected very elevated stress levels.
Lol. Lmao, even.
#c*rny posts#im beggining to wonder if this is just a particularly bad time at work or if its just going to be this going forward#im like. barely holding on.#ever since my manager decided to put me into a slightly higher tier of work complexity#the new work ive come to not mind. but instructing the dumbasses that took over my old work is a nightmare#its like they have no reading comprehension. cant think for themselves. cant google anything. insist on using worse tools#... wait a minute. now im wondering if they are pretending to be dumber than they are because they dont want my old work#which is possible. because my old work is kind of annoying and a bit repetetive but ive come to accept it#like it even#they clearly dont#they probably wont achieve anything by acting dumb though lol. all they are currently doing is making the project managers#and customer service people dislike them#the absolute worst ive seen today was one guy getting mad and invoking the manager because he got assigned a task related to a project he#hadnt yet received access to#he got pissy at the project manager. the project manager who has no way of knowing which projects exactly the developers have access to#there is like tens of projects across two different brands i used to do work on#now im genuinely interested in how bad the atmosphere in that brand project is going to get before something snaps#im beginning to feel animosity between the project manager and the developers. the project manager was always super nice when i was working#with her. but its so clear she is pissed at how the new devs she has to work with are behaving#genuinely i dont know how those new devs can be so rude. and so inflexible. never in my life have i behaved like this towards a coworker#for no reason no less#anyway#shit is kind of fucked at the moment lmao#i wanna quit
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yuki-world · 7 months ago
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秦彻 | SYLUS ; PLAN
summary | sylus sets a time limit for you to retrieve the brooch from him. unfortunately, you don't get it in time no matter how hard you try, but fortunately, it's sylus you're dealing with.
tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, mention of handcuffs, vaginal penetration, creampie, 2.9k words
a/n : inspired by his affinity lvl 15 story (?) aka the one where he gets handcuffed to the bed
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“oh,” sylus raises a brow, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. he’s handcuffed to his own bed with you straddling him, teasing him by tracing your index finger over his body. just how cocky were you?
sylus takes a deep breath in. “so you think you’ve got me now, is that right?”
you hum in response, stopping your finger near his abdomen. “think? no, i know,” you reply confidently, letting out a slight scoff. there was no way he could move, so you could find it freely as you pleased. this was the best scenario, and luckily you didn’t fumble it as this was your last attempt before the deadline reached.
unbeknownst to you, it’s not that he couldn’t un-cuff himselfー it’s actually quite offensive that you think that. it’s more of him wanting to see how far you would go if he wasn’t going to intervene, because it’s fun. how adorable you look thinking you’ve won, how eager you look to finally win against him in something. and so, he watches. eyes locked onto your every action and reaction as you try to find the hidden brooch.
you start at the top of his robe near his neck, your hand making it’s way down, slowly feeling for any small and hard object. you pat at the material rested on his chest, but still no sign.
sylus gives you a small smirk, and you narrow your eyes. you didn’t exactly trust him per se, even if he promised to keep his word. what if this was just a trick? what if he was just toying with you? what if he didn’t have the brooch?”
“are you sure the brooch is even on you?” you questioned. his growing smirk was only making you more suspicious by the minute.
“accusing me, kitten?” he asks, feigning disappointment. “you haven’t even finished looking.”
you roll your eyes at his words, mumbling a small whatever under your breath as you continued looking for the brooch. you smoothed your palm down his robe, patting around his waist. still nothing.
you were getting desperate at this pointー you were almost there. this was the best effort you’ve made so far, and you weren’t going to let your plan fail so easily. you swallow, trailing your hand further down his robe, albeit hesitantly. your hands were at his thigh, the thin material the only thing separating your skin with his.
mentally shaking your head to snap out of your thoughts, you continue feeling for where the brooch might be.
suddenly, you feel something hard. it’s hard, no mistake, but it was far from small.
…that’s definitely not the brooch.
“i’d be careful where you’re touching,” sylus speaks, his voice almost making you jump as you retracted your hand quickly. a tinge of red spreads across your cheeks, and you try to defend yourself.
“shutー quiet,” you stuttered. “i didn’t mean to, okay? sorry,” you apologized, breathing out as you tried to maintain your composure. focus on the goal, you repeated to yourself over and over again. you meet his eyes for a split second, and god, you want to wipe that smirk off his face.
he lets out a breathy chuckle, watching you get distracted as you panicked to look for the brooch.
you finally get to the bottom of his robe, but you find absolutely nothing. where else could he have hidden it? he had to have it with him… that was a rule, right?
“i swear, you’re playing with me,” you accused, defeated. how was this possible? you set everything up perfectly, and the one thing you couldn’t do was find the broochー despite being able to check him freely? “be honest, is it really on you or not?” you asked, squishing his cheeks together with your hand so he looks at you.
“oh, look at that,” he states, ignoring your question before tilting his head up slightly, glancing at the clock, then back to you.
“time’s up.”
you hear a soft click, your head snapping to the sound of the handcuffs unlocking as you let your hand fall.
your body moves instinctively, feet touching the floor as you push yourself off his bed to make your escape.
…only for him pull you back and throw you onto the bed, landing with a soft thud against his pillow. you try to lift yourself up again, but your wrists get pinned by his larger handsー all the more making it hard to move. you start to squirm a little, but decide it’s of no use.
“you really are naive,” sylus sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. how you thought a pair of poorly made handcuffs were supposed to restrict him was beyond comprehendible. “since you didn’t find it in time, i get to have my way with you.”
“whatever, justー just get on with it.” you roll your eyes, trying to act nonchalant, but you can’t help the sudden wave of pleasure that shoots through your body at his words.
complying, he slams his lips against yours, the kiss filled with hunger and greed. the kiss was far from sloppyー he made sure you felt everything, both physically and emotionally, very calculated. his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, and you gasp.
he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, the wet sounds of making out filling his room as he continued to french kiss you.
removing his hand from one of your wrists, he opts to grip your waist instead, subtly pushing your shirt higher and higher, until your bra was exposed.
you shouldn’t be enjoying this. yet here you were, squirming under him as your thighs rubbed against one another, eager to feel any sort of stimulation. his mouth felt so warm as he continued kissing you, and so did the atmosphere.
feeling the movement of your thighs, he lets go of your other wrist, spreading your legs apart before slotting himself in between them, his crotch flushed against you. he doesn’t break the kiss once, letting you grind onto his hardened bulge to relieve yourself.
“sylus,” you breathed out, pushing him away gently to catch your breath. you panted softly, a string of saliva connecting the both of your lips as he pulled back.
“what, kitten?” he leans back smugly, admiring how red your lips were. all his doing, of course. “you can’t even handle a bit of kissing?”
“that was not a bit of kissing,” you retorted, looking away. you noticed your clothes were starting to stick onto your skin, presumably from the heat. you start to slowly unbutton your shirt one by one, but he’s not having any of that.
he smacks your hand away, ripping open the shirt like it was paper, some buttons popping off. you couldn't even protest as he pulled your bra down, exposing your tits.
"what the fuck, sylus! that was my favorite shirt," you scolded, furrowing your brows. it was one of the few shirts you decided to splurge on after contemplating for a long time, and the fact that he just tore it like that...
"how much?" he questions, squeezing one of your tits.
"what? like, a little over a hundredー"
"insignificant," he cuts you off, latching onto one of your nipples. he already knew whatever value you said wouldn't matter much to himー he could buy you a million of those shirts and there wouldn't be a single dent to his bank account.
he continues to suck and fondle, alternating between each tit to give them equal attention. he bites occasionally, each time making you gasp. you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling every time he sucked or bit too hard.
after what felt like hours, sylus finally pulls off you with a pop, staring at the red marks, shining with his saliva around your tits. even better that it's from his doing. he lets out a satisfied sigh.
"don't... look at me like that," you whisper, covering his eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed.
he lets out a breathy chuckle, bringing your palm to his lips to kiss it. "you're getting shy now? you weren't earlier when you were touching me all over," he points out, pulling your pants and underwear off in one clean motion.
"and don't think i forgot when you brushed against my..."
"that's 'cause i was looking for the brooch!" you argued, letting out a defeated sigh. "...just fuck me already."
"it's interesting that you think you're in any position to make demands." he flips you over onto your hands and knees, giving your ass a loud slap, resonating throughout the room. "ass up, don't take your own sweet time."
you clicked your tongue at his attitude, but did as he told anyway. as much as you didn't want to admit it, you were eager. the last time the both of you had sex, he fucked you until you were on the brink of tears, moaning and drooling into his pillows that he had to change them after. it was amazing, to say the very least.
sylus shifts behind you, undoing his robe and getting rid of his boxers quickly. his cock stands erected, large obviously, and it's clear he's already been hard since the beginning. even if you don't turn around to look, you knew just how much pre-cum was leaking from his cock as he rubs the coated tip between your embarrassingly wet folds. so much so that you didn't even need any preparationー not even his fingers to spread your pussy open.
he gives your ass another slap again, before guiding his cock into your tight entrance. your pussy stretches around him to accommodate his girth, instinctively clamping down the moment it entered.
"ngh, sylus," you moan, fingers gripping onto his sheets, pillows, anything you could grab on to as he pushed more of his inches into you. you'll never get enough of how big he feels inside you, the empty space previously now filled to the brim with his cock, stretching you out to mold your insides to the shape of him.
"fuck... always so fucking tight, huh?" sylus exhales, bottoming out inside you. though, there was still some of his length left that your cunt couldn't take in. "this cock is too big for you."
you whined in response, spreading your legs further to take more of him in comfortably, but you could barely do so from how filled you were. there was simply no space inside you.
"aw, too much for you, kitten?" he mocks. pulling back to leave only his tip in, before slamming his entire length back into you.
"shutー ahー up!" you cry out as you jerk forward from the sheer force of his thrust. his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to meet each thrust of his cock. you should've known he was only going to go faster, his seemingly sweet and slow pace disappearing the moment he starts pounding into you at rapid speeds. his balls were hitting your clit every time he pushed his cock in, sending jolts of pleasure through you.
your sounds get louder and louder each time he fucks into you, so much so that you have to bury your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. it was going to happen againー his pillows stained with drool.
he slammed his hips against your ass harder, hoping to elicit more sounds from you. "sylus... mmph!" you moan, his name coming out unclear from how muffled you were.
"hmm?" he hums in question, pulling your hair to lift your face off the pillow. "who said that you could hide your pretty sounds?"
sylus pulls out before flipping you over again, this time taking a few seconds to admire your fucked out state. your face was flushed, half-lidded eyes and drool dribbling down the side of your mouth. he doesn't think he's ever seen a prettier sight.
"you're drooling," he points out, using his thumb to wipe some of it away. well, you knew that, but you don't care, because at this point, all you can think about is his cock. you've never been more grateful to him, more thankful that you met him, as he pushes his cock into you once more.
your walls feel so good around him, he has to take a brief breather before starting to thrust. such a tight cunt, he thinks again, because it's trueー he's never fucked this good of a pussy. wrapping around him so warmly, clenching onto him in all the right ways. he could die happy like this. he could die happy with you.
"fuck me, fuck meー fuck me," you beg, snapping him out of his thoughts. you push up against him, trying to move on your own, to take more of him in, to just do something. the lack of stimulation was killing you.
"stop," he hisses, gripping your thigh to stop you. "you're going to hurt yourself. let me do it."
and then he starts again, fucking you with so much vigor that you mentally question just how much stamina he actually has. he never lets his pace falter from then onwards, railing you as the bed starts to move along to his movements.
with no pillow to bury your face in, you couldn't hide your moans even if you wanted toー exactly what he wanted. you were screaming, "harderー fuckー yes! right there!"
"so noisy in bed," he groans, hands reaching up to intertwine your fingers with him. a small and sweet gesture, the complete opposite of how roughly he was ramming his cock deep inside you. repeatedly, at that same exact spot that had your eyes rolling backwards. if anyone was outside his doorー hell, not even outside his door, maybe even at a few rooms away, they would definitely still be able to hear you.
you wrap your legs around his waist tightly, feeling your orgasm approaching sooner than you thought. "sylus, i wannaー make me cum, please!"
no, he wanted to say. this wasn't your reward, you didn't even find the brooch. but he couldn't. because he was close too.
sylus wasn't going to deny you even if you didn't ask so nicely, even if you demanded him to. he knows the exact look on your face as you cum, and it's the same, perfect, expression that he loves so much each time. at your request, he lets go of one of your hands, dipping his fingers into your mouth before trailing down to rub circles around your clit.
unnecessary? yes, you were already soaking wet. just for good measure, he thinks. besides, you looked sexy with your mouth wrapped around his fingers, almost struggling with how much larger his digits were.
you start squirming, squeezing his hand tighter as he continues thrusting while rubbing, a deadly combo. "fuckー thaaat's it, be a good girl and cream on my cock."
"oh myー sylus!" you scream out his name as your orgasm hits you, eyes rolling back, nails digging into his hand, and your back arches off the bed. your pussy starts tightening and spasming around him like a vice. he feels you get so much, so much wetter that his cock almost slips out of you as he pulls back.
"such a sweet expression," he groans at the sight, pushing your legs back as he tries to angle his cock deeper into you. you try to close your legs from sensitivity, but he simply won't let you, not when he's so close to cumming.
"ohー yes, fuuuck..." he throws his head back with a final snap of his hips, his cock pulsing inside you as he pumps your pussy with cum, his thick load of semen coating your insides with warmth.
coming down from his high with a few more weak spurts of cum, he lets his head fall back down, a contented sigh as he pulls out slowly with a loud squelch. you whimper at the sensitivity, but also at the loss of his cock. his load takes a few seconds to dribble out, thick and creamy, leaving a trail down to your ass.
"satisfied?" he tilts his head, letting your legs down. "seems like you're done for tonight."
"yeah," you breathe out in exhaustion, feeling his hand caress your cheek. "the brooch," you paused, suddenly remembering.
"where is it, and... what's the actual punishment?"
sylus looks at you amused, reaching over to his robe tossed somewhere on the floor, unpinning the brooch before holding it towards you. "looking for this?"
you widened your eyes. how could it have been in his robe? you literally searched everywhereー
"i know what's going on in that little head of yours," he sighs, opening your palm to put it in your hand. "you got distracted, remember? you brushed past it and didn't even notice, kitten."
you groaned in frustration, mad at yourself that you didn't even notice. you basically just accused him for nothing.
"...and the actual punishment? for not getting the brooch in time?"
"no punishment," he states smugly, watching your lips part in disbelief.
"seriously? i put in a lot of effort into these plans, you know!" you smack his chest lightly. "i can't believe you."
"i'd say you gained a lot more than you lost," he says as a matter-of-factly, eyeing the white mess oozing out of your cunt.
"...shut up."
ー @yuki-world
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letoasai · 7 months ago
Text
The Youngest Ancient
An idea where the JL has gotten word from Green Lantern that a planet has been destroyed. That threat is headed for Earth. 
We could blame it on Darkseid despite the fact that i don’t actually know if that’s within his power set. Bad guy of your choice. Keeping it vague works too. 
Danny finding out that one of his planets is gone and he’s not having it. 
~~
They were short on time. Monumentally short on time. Usually everyone would look to Batman in a situation like this. It wasn’t like his numerous contingency plans were a secret. The problem was time and an overall lack of information about the coming threat. All that was clear was the fact that Earth was in danger. 
Not even a normal, run of the mill danger, but the planet bleeding out of existence kind of danger. Supposedly it could happen so fast that the citizens of Earth wouldn’t even know it had happened. 
“There’s always begging an Ancient for help.” Constantine muttered, lighting another cigarette. As many members of the League as possible had gathered but brainstorming could only get them so far. 
Multiple gazes snapped to him but it was Wonder Woman who spoke first. “You think petitioning the gods would be a wise course of action?” 
“Could be the only course of action.” Flash muttered though no one looked happy about it. 
“Nah, it’s a much crazier idea than that.” Constantine said flatly. “We’re not talking about any of those old hats we’re used to dealing with. I mean an Ancient. Their powers are next level stuff. Above the gods on the totem pole, if you will.” 
Batman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to bring in a complete unknown.” 
“I want the planet to fucking be in the same spot tomorrow, mate.” Constantine snapped back. They were out of time but he evidently had more practice at being reckless then the rest of the League. “Heard tales of a new baby Ancient. A likable kid that has many of the heavy hitters doting on `em. Word is the baby Ancient is rather agreeable. Makes deals. Likes to explore. That kind of thing.” 
“Baby Ancient.” Superman repeated, clearly hearing the oxymoron in that title. “How does that work?”
“Well they gotta come from somewhere, don’t they?” Constantine shrugged. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to ask. 
“I’ve heard the same rumors.” Zatanna heaved a sigh, adding credence to Constantine’s claims. “Even if they can’t do anything themself, they might have enough pull with one of the other Ancients that can.” 
Flash clucked his tongue. “We literally have everything to lose if we don’t do something. If no one else has any other ideas then we need to give it a shot.” 
“How long do you need to prepare?” Batman asked, his frown obvious. He never fully liked ideas that he didn’t have a hand in.
Constantine sat up straighter, taking a pull from his cigarette and already looking exhausted. “Gimme an hour.” 
“I’ll help.” Zatanna said, already standing. 
“Forty minutes then.” 
~
The light of the summoning circle was hard to look at. It was like a mini supernova right in front of them. The colors would have been amazing to look at if anyone could have opened their eyes to see it. 
When it dimmed, leaving only a toxic looking green glow around the circle, a young boy floated in the center. His hair was white and flowed even in the tightly air controlled Watch tower. The freckles across his face seemed to glow just like his green eyes. 
He was cute, and couldn't have been more than fifteen. He wore a skintight black suit, calf high white boots, and had a strange looking thermos hanging off his belt. So this was a baby Ancient. He looked utterly perplexed. 
“Um…” He blinked, taking in every member of the Justice League slowly.
“Welcome to the Justice League Watch Tower.” Wonder Woman said, ever the diplomat. “We apologize for summoning you on such short notice.” 
“Oh. Okay.” He was still blinking owlishly before his eyes locked onto one of the windows that currently had a vast view of space. The boy all but purred at the sight. “You can call me Phantom. What do you want?” 
“You’re the new Ancient?” Constantine asked without as much tacked.
Phantom sighed, shifting to sit even as he floated. “So they tell me. I didn’t know there was going to be a superhero test.” 
“We summoned you to request assistance if you are able to give it.” Batman said, taking over. “A threat is coming to destroy the Earth and we don’t have much time. Is there something in particular you would want in payment?” 
“Besides souls.” Constantine muttered which subtly alarmed everyone within earshot. 
“Destroy…Earth?” Phantom repeated slowly, head tilting. It was slowly occurring to everyone that maybe a baby Ancient really was too young to deal with something like this. “Why?”
Green Lantern sighed, arms crossed. “I’m likely the cause. Earth is the home base for Lanterns in this sector. The previous planet destroyed was also a home base.” 
Phantom’s eyes jerked up, his full attention on Green Lantern. “Previous planet destroyed? Where?” He paused, “And when? I have been feeling a little off.” 
No one knew quite what to make of the strange comment, but Lantern continued anyway. “A planet in the neighboring sector, 2813. It has been eight days, and before long, that threat will be here.” 
“Is it possible you know of a way to prevent the destruction of Earth?” Wonder Woman asked, but Phantom seemed distracted. 
He removed his gloves and was looking at the back of his hands. When that didn’t seem to tell him what he wanted, he tugged on his sleeve, making the fabric go invisible in small sections so he could easily look at his skin beneath it without the cumbersome task of rolling his sleeves up. 
He was covered in glowing freckles, just like on his face, but one by one the League members took notice of the way they moved. Phantom would twist his arm one way and then another and each set of freckles would be replaced by a completely new set of glowing little spots. When that didn’t show him what he wanted, he kept looking, checking both arms first before moving down his chest slowly. 
The League could do nothing but watch the strangeness before them as their follow up questions went ignored. 
When he got to a spot under his ribs, Phantom screeched. “It’s gone!” 
“Phantom…?” 
Phantom looked out the Watch Tower window, his face morphing into one of fury. His eyes shined brightly and whatever he was looking for, he clearly found. 
“T̢̜̞̮ͭ̓ͫͦh̨̻̼͓͓̜ͭ̈͆ȃ̴̩ͅtͯ̚͏͇̮̖̙ ̡̭͎̝̟͇͙̏ͣ̑͛m̵̭͉͈̳̟͎͈̲̋̋o͈̮̫͓̪͔͐͠t͉̬̉͒̈́ͪ͠h͉̠̭͓̞͎̺͓ͥͥ͘e̅͗̔̿҉̞̪̺̮̗̜r͙̪̼͈̐̉͞ ̫̥̳̿̾͒͑͞f͔̟͈͍ͯ̊̏́ù̶̯̬̫͈͕c̲ͣ̓̿͠ͅk̦̘̖̭͕͉̹̥̈̍̈́ͤ͘e͚̬͗͡ͅr̛̤̩̺͂̃̇̉ͅ.”
To say the Justice League was surprised by the shift in the boys tone was an understatement. 
“Yeah, i’ll stop your threat.” Phantom growled, easily leaving the summoning circle. He shifted right through the wall and directly into space without a care. 
Silence filled the room, no one entirely sure what they’d done by summoning a baby Ancient. “So that happened.” Flash commented. “Are we still planning for doomsday?” 
“We’ll see…” Constantine muttered. “Though if that kid gets hurt, might be bad for the universe.” 
“Not what we wanted to hear, John.” Wonder Woman said, looking out the window. Nothing looked unusual to her. 
~
In an hour's time, Phantom returned just as distracted as he’d been when he’d left. He remained seated in the air as he held what looked like a cracked marble in his hands. It was surrounded by a mist, and inside sparked with many different colors. 
Phantom seemed to be sealing the crack, a smile on his face. 
Batman was the one to approach, and if he was anxious it was hard to tell. “Phantom.” He greeted cautiously. “You’re back.”
“Uh huh.” Phantom said, eyes glittering happily at the marble. “I got rid of your problem. Earth is safe.” 
“Got…rid of.” Batman repeated slowly, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. 
“So we’re good?” Flash asked. “Good work, kid.” 
“Yeah, he deserved it.” Phantom said, finally cradling the smooth marble in his palm. 
Constantine was still smoking, but his eyes were narrowed. “Do i wanna know what you’re doin’?”
Phantom beamed. “I got my planet back! It was a little broken but i fixed it.” 
“Your planet?” Green Lantern repeated, adrenaline hitting him. “The destroyed planet!?” 
“Yep.” Phantom looked pleased with himself. “Now i just gotta set it back in time eight days to get everyone back on track and i can put it back where it belongs.” 
“Put it…back.” Batman seemed to have trouble with the skill set of one teenager.” 
It was Superman who slid closer with a disarmingly charming smile. “May i ask what kind of Ancient you are. I admit i don’t know much about them.” 
Phantom perked up. “I’m the Ancient of Space!” He ignored Constantine’s groan from across the room. “I’m really glad you guys called me about this! It would have taken me a while to find a planet destroyed out of the natural timeline.” 
“And you have time abilities?” Wonder Woman asked softly. Time and Space was a heady combination. 
“Nope! But Clockwork does.” Phantom said. “He’ll do it for me.” 
“Will he?” The Flash stared. 
Phantom didn’t seem to notice the incredulous looks. As far as he was concerned, everyone was simply taking his explanations in stride. Tilting his head back his eyes shimmered with power. “Clockwork!” he called, voice reverberating oddly. No one missed Zatanna paling or Constantine cursing. No one had time to ask either before a tear appeared just to the right of Phantom. It split the very air apart in a green haze before a portal opened and a man floated out. Wrapped in a purple cloak, the man floated like Phantom did but had a ghostly tail instead of legs and off putting red eyes. 
He had a staff donned with clock gears and mechanisms that ticked in an unsettling way. No one needed an explanation, which was good because Constantine wasn’t going to give one. 
This was the Ancient of Time. They had two Ancients in the Watch Tower. 
Phantom didn’t seem bothered and held out his marble with a smile. “Fix!” he asked cheerfully. 
Clockwork turned from what appeared to be an adult man to an elderly man in the blink of an eye. “You know time is sensitive, Phantom. Not everything can be changed on a whim." 
Phantom’s smile lessened. He looked back and forth from Clockwork to the marble and back to Clockwork again. “I’ll cry. Swear to the Ancients, i’ll start crying.” 
The elderly Clockwork shifted back into the form of a young man. “Do you think tears will alter the timeline?” 
Batman smiled, almost. He knew a mischievous teen trying to get his way when he saw one. That theory proved correct when Phantom honestly did begin to sniffle, eyes becoming damp. 
“An asshole destroyed a piece of me.” Phantom said, lips wobbling. “I felt it. I didn’t feel good.” 
Clockwork’s form shifted again, this time into the form of a young child. He heaved a sigh, “If you start weeping you’ll summon the others.” 
Phantom nearly whimpered, holding out the marble still. Every member of the Justice League watched with bated breath. 
Clockwork crossed his arms. “How far back do you want it?” 
“Yay!” Phantom beamed immediately, impressing upon how young he must have been. “Eight days! Actually, maybe nine. That might be better for them. I’m sure the…Green Lantern…people… can explain that they lost little more than a week in order to be brought back. That’ll be fine, right?” 
Green Lantern was too stunned by the question to answer but it was fine since it seemed to be rhetorical coming from the young Ancient. 
Clockwork turned back into an adult and held his staff out over the marble Phantom held. There was no discernible change other than the hands on the staff’s clock face moving. Phantom was nearly bouncing in place which was interesting to see considering his feet weren’t on the floor. 
“Thank you, Clockwork!” Phantom said, looking delighted and completely missing the way Clockwork just sighed fondly. 
“Hurry along home before the yeti’s start to look for you.” Clockwork said in a fairly familiar tone. 
“Yes, yes.” Phantom said distractedly, tossing the marble up in the air where it disappeared. He tugged at his black suit right over his ribs and did the same invisibility trick again. He shifted twice until he found the patch of skin that held the group of freckles he wanted. 
No one was close enough to see for themselves, but Phantom crowed happily. “Good! It’s back where it’s supposed to be!” 
“It’s back?” Batman asked, a hint in his voice saying he had a hundred more questions. 
“Yep.” Phantom said. “It’s really annoying to me when someone destroys one of my stars or planets before their natural life cycles have worn out.” 
“Is that a map of the galaxy on your skin?” Wonder Woman asked, charmed by the constellation of freckles across his nose and under his pointed ears. 
“No.” Phantom said. “It’s a map of every universe on my skin. They overlap so sometimes i gotta hunt for the one i want a little.” 
“Every…” Superman sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him. 
“Come, Your Majesty.” Clockwork said, opening a shockingly green portal with his staff. “You’ve had your fun.” 
“Okay, okay.” Phantom mumbled. 
“Majesty?” Zatanna whispered, confusion coloring her tone. 
Phantom whipped back around to look at her with a sheepish grin. “Ah, yeah. I’m the King of the infinite Realm. Let me know if anyone else messes with one of my planets! Bye now.” 
The Ancients departed and Constantine started wheezing. 
“I take it no one knew the baby Ancient was a king?” Flash asked, a very startled silence taking over the Watch Tower. 
~~
I know i originally said that the planet had been destroyed but that somehow turned into it being eaten or absorbed or something so Danny got it back. 
I really just wanted Danny to find a missing planet on his skin and freaking out over it. 
Feel free to take this idea, though i’m sure something like it exists already. ^__^
Master List
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solarplanet2 · 6 months ago
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Which one is in Danger?
Part 2
DCxDP Prompt/Drabbles
Part 1
"We have your son."
Bruce was expecting a very normal day. If you consider having to deal with the chaos of his children and being a vigilante at night as normal.
But nonetheless, a very simple day of his normal routine and once a week dinner with his family.
Only to be broken by a phone call by someone stating that his son has been kidnapped.
Bruce didn't answer right away, he was mentally counting his sons who, are all counted for, are on the dinner table.
"Which one?" Bruce eyed each of his sons and counted them again just to be sure.
"Timothy Drake-Wayne."
Bruce immediately eyed Tim who was sitting in between Jason and Cass.
Tim's here.
Then who's the one being kidnapped?
"Bruce?" Dick spoke up, thinking that something was wrong the way Bruce was looking at all of them.
Bruce slightly waved at Dick, telling him to calm down first. "What do you want?"
Dick's question seemed to catch everyone's attention since they were all looking at Bruce now.
"Two Million. Or he gets it."
A standard threat. The kind he was expecting.
"Can I speak to my son?" This earned confused looks of his children and Bruce waved them off gesturing that it was not what they were thinking about.
"Alright kid," The kidnapper from the other said grunted, almost sounding smug. "Say hello to Daddy."
Bruce could hear heavy breathing, almost sounding like a grunt. It made Bruce slightly worried. "...Tim?" Bruce decided to speak first. "Tim, Are you okay?" And Bruce hopes that he is.
A soft grunt responded. "Hi." A croaked voice managed to respond. It sounded young. And was punched in the stomach. He should know, almost all of his children had experienced that way.
"Don't worry, chum. I'm getting you out of there." Bruce tried reassuring the kid, worried about what they might do to him. Because this isn't Tim. Tim is right across from him and these kidnappers basically had kidnapped the wrong person.
He gestured to his children, a familiar gesture, for them to head to the cave and suit up. They quickly followed, not without worried glances and confused glances at Bruce's way.
"No.." The kid had said, choked out which made Bruce paused on his step in confusion. It caught his children's attention, stopping as well.
"Uhm...Dad? I'll be fine."
Bruce believed that, for some reason, but it didn't stop his worry. But the next words from the boy made him blink
"Please give me your permission."
"....To what?" Bruce asked confusingly. Permission to what?
"To hurt."
Bruce has raised enough children to know enough about silent words in some part of the sentences without right out saying it.
To hurt them.
The kid is asking permission to hurt his kidnappers.
Bruce should say no and wait for help. Should be saying that help is on the way.
Bruce should say that he'll come and save him.
Now, Bruce doesn't normally follow his gut. It causes too much mystery and had no explanation to either it would be a good thing or a bad thing.
But right now, for once, Bruce would agree with his gut.
"....Alright."
Static came in the phone, like it was losing signal but he could clearly hear the boy voice coming out like an echo.
"Good."
"What the-- AAAHHH!!!"
Beeeepppp
Bruce blinked as he looked down at his phone after the call ended.
.....Should he have not give him permission?
"B? What's wrong? Did something happen?" Dick asked, increasingly worried now as he saw Bruce staring at his phone.
"....Suit up." Bruce concluded. They should find the boy as quickly as possible. "And call an ambulance."
Bruce could see the confused look at everyone's faces as he walked passed them.
"Wait, B!" Duke had spoke up running after Bruce with his siblings. "Was someone hurt? Is it another gang fight?"
"No. The ambulance is for the kidnappers."
".....What??"
: )
Parts: Part 1
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seiwas · 1 year ago
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₊˚⊹。take my time (i’ll spend it all on you) | gojo satoru
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wc: 1.6k
summary: gojo sees you in lingerie for the first time.��
contains: f!reader, suggestive almost nsfw (they make out… maybe a bit steamy), 18+ just in case, reader is in lingerie, shy feelings!! gojo down bad!!
a/n: i hc that the first time gojo sees you in lingerie, it’s like seeing you walk down the aisle—he’s a bit sappy like that! i also think that he’d love seeing his lover in pink! idk! it’s just the vibes! (col reader would look cute in pink too i think hehe complements the personality!); takes place later on, around col #4 (wip)
collection masterlist: conversations on love 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace? <- you are here -> +04b (extra). if you're ready (let me) + 04. these traces of love, they outline you
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
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There are few things in life that have earned Gojo’s double take: 
A sign for a newly-opened gelato shop with ‘exclusive flavors for the first 30 customers!’ written in fine print; Megumi, back in middle school, being confessed to with a sweetly handcrafted box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day; a small cut, right at the tip of his nose from that time you sparred with him and he let you get too close (or so he says). 
And now you. 
In something pink—
—that if he backtracks just a bit, steps one foot behind the other to glance again at the space left open by the bedroom door, and squints—
He’s certain, 200% sure. 
It’s lingerie. 
He blinks once, twice, rubs at his eyes even as his mind attempts to catch up to whatever it is–you–he just saw. This must be what wires feel when they short circuit. 
You know he’s home, right? You have to, you just told him to rinse the dishes after snacking.
And he was in the middle of doing that—walking across your apartment from couch to kitchen, stopping only to do a double take at the sight of pink in his periphery, at you, once he looked again, clearly. 
Or were you doing this on purpose? Did you want him to see you? 
He gulps, warmth spreading from the tips of his ears down to his neck, lingering. 
There’s only one way to find out, really. 
He walks down the hallway leading to the bedroom, keeping his footsteps light so as to not startle you.
If he’s being honest right now, his mind is full to the point of feeling empty—too many thoughts swirling around the fact that behind this very door, he’s about to find you in pink lingerie. 
And when he takes a deep breath, fingertips pushing on wood very slightly as he calls out, “Bab—“
“S’toru!” you squeal from the other side, panicked as you instantly push it back closed.
So you didn’t do it on purpose. 
“Sorry, give me a minute!” you call out, and he can hear your footsteps from the other side, frantically walking around for what he can assume is you looking for something to cover yourself with. 
But he doesn’t want that. 
Not when he already has the visual of you, pretty in what he suspects is pink lace.
Not when the way you said ‘S’toru’ sounded so much like ‘‘Toru’, your ‘‘Toru’, the way you usually say it pressed against bed sheets, under him, expression blissed out from—
Do you have any idea what that does to him? 
“Are you wearing lingerie?” 
You freeze. Gojo can tell from the other side of the door, and you think, damn it, because he isn’t supposed to know you bought a set, much less see you in it. Not yet. 
You could try to lie, but Gojo always sees through you, through every change in inflection, the way your eyebrow twitches before speaking. 
“Can I come in?” he asks softly, almost hesitantly. 
How can you possibly resist him when he speaks to you like this? Asking permission as if this space you live in isn’t as much his?
You sigh, flustered at being caught this way, “Can you close your eyes first?” 
He follows, laying one hand over his eyes for good measure before knocking on the door. You open it slowly, wood creaking as he steps inside. 
You feel a little naked right now despite how he isn’t even looking your way, opting to face the side opposite from where you’re standing. It’s on purpose, you know, he can tell where you are—Six Eyes and all. 
There’s a smile that he’s hiding, biting his lower lip to stop it from showing. His toes are wiggling from the excitement coursing through him.
You know Gojo will like you in anything; in fact, he’s made it very clear that he prefers you in nothing—but still. Your stomach feels queasy and you can’t get rid of how nervous you’re feeling. 
And you guess, it’s really just because this was meant to be a surprise for him—the design you’ve chosen, how it looks on your body, how it looks to him, especially. You’d ordered the lingerie set months in advance to leave a lot of time for returns, whether it turned out ill-fitting or just unflattering.
You didn’t expect him to catch a glimpse of it now, months before his birthday, before you were even ready. 
“I’m waiting…” he teases, voice sing-song in that way he usually does to annoy you. It always makes you smile though, and it’s an odd form of comforting with how it dulls your jitters right now, just a little bit.
“Okay, you can look.” 
As soon as he turns, you squeeze your eyes shut, hands on your sides as you fiddle with your fingernails. Seeing, knowing his reaction in real time is still nervewracking, regardless of every reassurance you tell yourself—because, what if this is the off-chance that you’re wrong, and he doesn’t like it? 
Or worse: what if he has to pretend he likes it?
You frown a bit—it doesn’t help at all that Gojo isn’t saying anything.
But—
How can he, when there are no words, no adjectives, no possible descriptions to articulate what he’s seeing—what he’s feeling?
If he didn’t die then, in every instance he’s brushed with death: by Toji’s hands, locked up inside that box, in that final moment with Sukuna, nearly halved—
He thinks he might have just died right now. 
Because this? You? In lingerie as pink as all he’s feeling—his cheeks, his nose, flushing down his neck, maybe even his chest if it were exposed. 
It’s heaven. 
You’re a sight. 
While Gojo has certainly seen you in much less, and done with you things much more than just stand with you like this, he’s never seen you in lingerie.
And you’re so pretty. Sexy. All his, he can’t believe it.   
He’s noticing all the little details on it–on you–its shade, almost salmon with a bit of baby pink; its material: sheer net as the base for everything—it’s practically see-through save for the delicate floral lace running across the bra cups and panty front.
The set itself is nice, sure, but he knows he only likes it this much because it’s on you. And he knows he’ll always like anything on you. 
The heat in his stomach is building, spreading, to the single part of him that—
“Is it that bad?” you scrunch your nose, eyes still closed. He looks at you confused, before he realizes: he hasn’t said anything.
He chuckles and you open your eyes, pouting. 
And God, he wishes you didn’t do that. That look on your face—what it does to him.
“I ordered it in advance for your birthday,” you start, pout deepening as you ramble on, “it was supposed to be a surprise, but if you don’t like it, I can still–” 
That’s enough. 
He can’t believe that you actually think he doesn’t like it. 
Gojo steps into your space, close enough to grab you by the waist as his other hand reaches up to slot itself in the area between your ear and your jawline, tilting your head up slightly as he leans in to kiss you. 
It’s rushed at first, almost desperate—hungry, the way he releases his breath only to take you in; your lips, soft in the way he knows them to be, his hand on your waist squeezing. Your fingertips trail to his cheek, almost cupping as his kisses turn deeper, more languid, lips moving against yours slowly, savoring. 
Gojo is a fast learner, and he shows it best in the way he kisses you, as if he’s memorized every way to build that familiar heat within you. You lay your other hand against his chest, gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulls you closer. 
You bite his lip and suck, just a little bit, the way he likes it, and he moans, lowly, vibrations rippling through your mouth as he holds you steady. He’s hard already; you can feel it pressing against your lower belly. 
And you realize, as a small laugh tears itself away from you, how ridiculous it was for you to even worry. 
You break the kiss, leaning your forehead against his as you keep your noses touching. It’s impossible to tell how Gojo looks, but you have a hunch with how he’s breathing so heavily; the skies in his eyes must be darker, almost gray, turned on by desire—the same one settling deep in your stomach, aching, needy. 
“It’s perfect,” he whispers, lips grazing yours. He traces hearts by your shoulder, something born out of the many times you’ve lain in bed together, playing with the strap of your bra before pulling, a short snap! as he lets go. 
“You like it?” you whisper back, a lilt in your tone, teasing. Your fingers come up to trace his lips and he holds them in place, nipping. 
“Mhm,” he grins, smoothing his hand over the lace details on your bra, his thumb rubbing, “so pretty.” 
He leans in again, a small peck, before asking, “Does this mean I can get my gift now?” 
You laugh, hitting his chest, “It’s not your birthday yet!” 
“Yeah, but what is time anyway?” 
And you know, with the way he’s trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking—you’re going to have to find another thing to surprise him with on his birthday. 
.
Later that evening, with your head lying right on his chest, you remember. 
“Oh yeah, the set also came with one of those belt things. Garter, I think? But I wasn’t sure if you’d be into–” 
You’ve never seen Gojo get up from bed faster.
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thank you notes: for that anon that asked about whether col reader wears lingerie! + @stellamancer @soumies @crysugu for validating me that pink is in fact col reader's colour ᰔ i also just luv u guys 🥺
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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olive-main · 1 month ago
Note
oooo if you’re interested would love to see your take: reader is Azriel’s mate, nobody knows. The inner circle keeps trying to set him up with females (including Elaine & Gwyn). They like reader but don’t view her as an option for being his partner. Lots of angst, she’s hurting, she overhears them saying she’s not an option for him. Up to you what happens for her and Azriel. Loved your last story, and that you wanted more angst ideas!! And if this isn’t what you’re looking for, all good!
Between Us Alone
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel’s mate overhears a conversation that shakes her confidence in their hidden bond, but he reminds her that love, even in shadows, is unbreakable.
Wc: 1.2k
A/N: Annndddd welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming. This time I come with the gift of some fluff (with angst ofc bcs duh—who do y’all think I am?) Enjoy the happy endings while they last…..evil laugh
Masterlist
——
The corridors of the House of Wind were quiet, save for the faint hum of conversation that drifted from Rhysand’s office. You’d gone looking for Azriel, hoping he might steal away from his “boys’ night” early and join you at your shared apartment.
A secret, the two of you. Hidden in plain sight. Quite fitting for Rhysand’s spymasters.
It was exhilarating at first—the quiet smiles across rooms, the fleeting brushes of hands, and the stolen glances when no one else was looking. But there were cracks now, small fissures of insecurity that made you wonder if keeping the bond private had been the right choice.
Your footsteps slowed as you neared Rhys’s office, voices clear now, though you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were about to knock when you caught the sound of Cassian’s boisterous laughter.
“Oh, come on, Az,” Cassian said, his tone teasing. “You’ve been spending all that time with Gwyn. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“Gwyn’s sweet,” Rhysand added. “And she clearly enjoys your company. You’d make a good pair.”
Your heart clenched painfully, the words hitting you like a physical blow.
Azriel’s reply was quieter, almost unreadable. “Gwyn is a friend. I’m not looking for… that.”
Cassian scoffed. “You say that now, but it’s been centuries, Az. When was the last time you even tried to let someone in? Gwyn’s perfect for you—kind, strong, clever. She gets you.”
“She’s not the only option,” Rhys said smoothly. “There are others. Nesta’s mentioned a few priestesses who would be good matches.”
Cassian nodded in agreement. “There’s also Y/N.”
You pressed your hand to the doorframe, your breaths shallow as you heard Cassian say your name.
“No, I don’t see them together. They rarely speak to each other outside of missions and a few shared words at dinners.” Rhysand says with a shake of his head as if the thought of you and Azriel together was the most unlikely thing he could think of.
You shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have listened, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. They didn’t mean to hurt you—you knew that. You’d always been on the periphery of their circle, a friend but never a true equal in their eyes. Azriel’s shadows had been your sanctuary, his quiet love a solace you cherished.
But to hear them speak so casually, as if you weren’t even a possibility…
Azriel’s voice cut through, firm and unyielding. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker. I can handle my own life.”
“You’re avoiding the question,” Cassian said, clearly amused.
“Drop it,” Azriel snapped, his tone brooking no argument.
The room fell silent after that, but the damage was done. You turned and fled, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step.
The space you shared with Azriel was small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Velaris where no one thought to look. It was your haven, the only place you could truly be yourselves without prying eyes or whispered questions.
But tonight, it felt suffocating.
You sank onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as the doubts clawed at your mind.
This charade was necessary. You both knew that. If they ever found out you and Azriel had been together for months—years, now—it would complicate everything. Not just for him, but for you.
As Azriel’s partner, you worked in the shadows as he did, your work as vital and delicate as his own. Secrecy was second nature to you both, and you’d agreed early on that revealing your bond—to anyone—was too risky.
You’d thought you could handle it. But moments like this, when they talked about Azriel’s love life like you didn’t exist, like you weren’t his, made you question how much more you could endure.
You told yourself it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. He hadn’t encouraged them. He’d even told them to stop. But the weight of their words lingered, stirring fears you’d tried so hard to bury.
What if they were right? What if Azriel deserved someone like Gwyn, someone who could stand beside him without the need for secrecy?
You didn’t hear the front door open, too lost in your thoughts to notice the familiar sound of Azriel’s footsteps until he was standing in front of you.
“Something’s wrong,” he said immediately, his hazel eyes scanning your face. His shadows swirled around him, restless and sharp. “What happened?”
You shook your head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Just tired.”
His brow furrowed, and he crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Don’t lie to me.”
The sincerity in his voice nearly broke you. You looked away, your throat tightening as you tried to hold back tears.
“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me.”
You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But you couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“I went to Rhys’s office,” you admitted quietly. “I was going to find you, but… I heard you all talking.”
Azriel stiffened, his jaw tightening. “What did you hear?” He already knew. There was only one part of the conversation that could’ve had you so distraught.
You swallowed hard. “They… they were trying to set you up with someone. Gwyn, mostly. Rhys mentioned others.” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “They said I wasn’t even an option.”
Azriel’s eyes darkened, his shadows curling tighter around him.
“They didn’t mean it to hurt me, I know that” you added quickly, seeing how Azriel was ready to go back and pummel his brothers. “They don’t know about us. But… it still hurt.”
He exhaled sharply, standing and pacing the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “They had no right—”
“They care about you,” you interrupted. “They want you to be happy. And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone like Gwyn. Someone who—”
“Stop.”
The word was a command, sharp and unyielding. Azriel crossed the room in an instant, kneeling before you again. He took your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle.
“Don’t you dare doubt this,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare doubt us.”
Tears spilled over, and he reached up to brush them away, his touch achingly tender.
“You are my mate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You. Not Gwyn, not anyone else. You are the only one I want, the only one I will ever want.”
“But they—”
“They’re idiots,” he said flatly. “I’ll deal with them. But don’t let their ignorance make you doubt what we have.”
You searched his face, finding only unwavering certainty in his eyes.
“I love you,” he said, his voice softening. “More than I thought I was capable of. And I don’t care if they don’t see it. I see it. I feel it.”
A broken laugh escaped you, relief washing over you like a tide. “I love you too.”
He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the world.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought keeping the bond private would protect us, but if it’s hurting you—”
“It’s not,” you said quickly. “Not really. I just… I needed to hear this. To hear you.”
He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours. “You’ll never have to doubt me again.”
——
Aren’t they just so sweet *sigh*. Thank you for reading <3
Requests are still open ;)
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jungwnies · 1 month ago
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wreckage - charles leclerc
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୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race
୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318
part one | part two | part three | part four
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They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.
You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.
It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.
“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”
“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”
His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”
You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.
“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”
The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.
“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”
You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.
When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.
Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”
Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”
You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”
Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”
You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”
Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”
Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.
“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.
“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.
“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”
Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.
The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.
But then it happened.
It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.
Your heart stopped.
The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”
Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.
“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.
Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.
The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.
When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.
“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.
You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.
You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.
“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”
It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.
And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?
You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?
You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.
Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.
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