#and leave him nice comments about how good his music is. if i see any more comment about jizzie or fh ill bite you

[mcyt-gender-showdown]

everybody stop voting and go watch the entirety of oli’s christmas music show and maybe you’ll calm down. ok

[sparklingchim]

game on | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine

summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.

a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.

Most of the time, it works in his favour.

But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.

Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.

The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.

Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.

Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.

That’s not his style.

His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.

And right now, it’s pushing back hard.

One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.

He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.

However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.

And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”

His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”

A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.

But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.

Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.

“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”

“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”

If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.

“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”

Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.

At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.

“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”

His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.

His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.

He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?

But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.

“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”

His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.

Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.

Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.

“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”

“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.

“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”

“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”

“I did propose an idea but-”

“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”

“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”

Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”

Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.

When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?

“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”

Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.

“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.

For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.

“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.

“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.

“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”

“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.

But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.

“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”

“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.

Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.

“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.

One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.

~

“This is ridiculous.”

You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.

“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”

You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.

On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.

Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.

But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.

You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”

While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.

“I need your help.”

His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.

“You need to do something for me.”

“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

You blink, repeatedly.

“Huh?”

You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.

“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”

It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.

“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fake date me.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“When I said I owed you,” you whisper and look over your shoulder. 

“Talk as quiet as you want, he’s got super hearing. Can’t even squeak out a silent but deadly with this guy,” Sam chuckles. 

“Wow, that’s gross,” you crinkle your nose. 

“I can be a nasty boy.” 

“Not better,” you give him an apprehensive look as you face him. “I saw him on the news.” 

“Hey, I was there too,” Sam chirps. 

“I know that but...” 

“He got a bit trigger happy. We’re just waiting for things to blow over. He needs a calming personality.” 

“So not you,” you retort. 

“No, not me. I’m into choking but not by him,” he snickers. 

“I can hear you,” the man leaning on the car hood snaps back as the sucker in his mouth hits his teeth. 

“Oh, I know,” Sam shoots a finger gun in his direction. “Also, he’s giving up smoking so he’s a bit testy.” 

“No, I spent eight hours in a car with you so I’m pissed off,” the grumbly sidekick hurls back. 

You look between them. Sam Wilson, the new Cap, superhero, avengers, comedian, and Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, assassin, and... mystery. You should refuse. You owe him but that much? A near-fugitive in your house? 

“Sam, I don’t exactly got a guest room,” you cross your arms. 

“Look, if the dame don’t wanna take me, don’t twist her arm,” Bucky sneers and bites into the sucker, scraping the stick with his teeth. “I can figure myself out.” 

“That’s what you said before the explosion. I’m not falling for it again, man,” Sam shoots back and shakes his head. He puts his hands on his hips and faces you. “You’re not just doing a service to me, but to America.” 

“Yes, okay, but this is Canada.” 

His eyes drift in realisation and his lashes flutter, “right, but we’re allies.” He looks at you again and smiles, “I thought Canadians were nice.” 

You roll your eyes. “Goddamnit. Fine.” 

“Like I said,” Bucky approaches, “I can go somewhere else. I don’t wanna be a burden.” 

“It’s not you,” you assure him. “There isn’t much space, that’s all. If you’re fine with that, so am I.” 

“I told him, it’s not a big deal,” Bucky huffs. “But he insists.” 

“I have to insist. I’m the Captain now.” 

“You keep saying,” he turns on Sam. “So why don’t you get that shield and we’ll see if you’re really up to that title.” 

“Alright, alright,” you step between them. You’re not a fan of conflict. Sam knows that and that’s why he brought him here. “No need to argue. You got a couch,” you look at Bucky then turn to the other man, “and you have a long ride home.” 

“Wait, you’re kicking me out?” Sam says. 

“If you stay any longer, I won’t stop him. I said he could stay, I said nothing about mediating whatever this is,” you wiggle your finger between them. 

Bucky snorts. He’s just as bad as Sam. They seem to only know how to goad the other.  

“Fair. I mean, you don’t want this guy getting any grumpier. He’s already such a treat,” Sam smirks. 

“Enough, I just told you,” you wag your index at him. “Well, nice to meet ya,” you turn and offer your hand to Bucky, “welcome to Canada.” 

“Thanks,” he says, though you can sense him staring down the other man. 

“Sam, have a safe trip. You need water or anything for the road?” You offer over your shoulder. 

“Nah, I think I’m good. A nice ride home alone. With good music. Think I’m set.” He cackles. 

“You wouldn’t know good music if it shot you in the face,” Bucky growls. 

“Dude, go get your bag out of my car,” Sam snips. “Good riddance, is what I say.” 

“Drive safe,” you shake your head as you walk toward the house. “I was in the middle of something.” 

You climb the porch steps and leave the inner door open as the screen door snaps shut behind you. Out of sight, you stop to shake off the adrenaline. You only realise then how the unexpected rival stirred you up. You weren’t ready for Sam but especially not a houseguest. Still, the only reason you have this place is because of that man. You can do this. 

You take a breath and go back to the kitchen. If Sam trusts Bucky, you can too. You’re not one to welcome in strangers, especially men, but this is different. And even if he asked, it wasn’t much of a choice. 

You wash your hands and dry them before pushing your sleeves back up. The striped button-up isn’t exactly your Sunday best. You add breadcrumbs to the bowl of raw beef as you hear footsteps on the porch. The door opens slowly and gently hits the frame. You listen to your guest as he sighs in the entryway. 

The house is small. One-floor, a single bedroom, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen with a small dining table that doubles as your workspace. It isn’t much, but it’s yours. And it’s history. Your family’s. 

You sense him hovering just outside the doorway. You glance behind yourself and hang your hands over the brim of the bowl. You still need to chop the veggies but that can wait. It isn’t his fault Sam decided this would be the balance in the scales. 

“Let me show you around.” You cross the kitchen as he peers through.  

His beard is dark, his hair overgrown and pushed back behind his ears, and tugs at the bottom of his denim jacket. He looks skittish as you approach. He has a duffel bag in his hand. 

“Look, sorry if I came off short. You know how Sam can be,” you say. 

“I do. He assumes a lot,” he mutters. 

“Sure does. So, like I said, it’s not a big house. Kitchen here,” you point over your shoulder, “living room behind you, bathroom down the hall and the bedroom. There’s a back door. Yard’s bigger than the house.” 

“Got it.” 

“So, you’ll have to camp out on the couch but good news, it’s from 1987 so it folds out,” you squeeze by him and lead the way into the front room. 

“Beats a full barracks,” he comments. 

You nod and peek over at him. “Guess that makes sense.” 

He sniffs, “thanks. Really.” 

“Again, not too much,” you gesture to the room. “I gotta finish the meatloaf.” 

“Think I can handle it,” he affirms. 

[luvhughes43]

the boy is mine | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

summary: yn meets quinn hughes and is instantly captivated by him, leading to him inspiring and starring in her new single "the boy is mine"

word count: 2.8k

yourusername

📍brighter days studios

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes, arianagrande, and 1 207 109 others

yourusername soooooon ;)

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user01 our soon??

liked by yourusername

user02 love you !!! cannot wait to see what youre working on

user03 you guys... quinn hughes liked this...

user04 NEW MUSIC?? OHH IM UP.

user05 i'm seated. the record store employees are scared and asking me to leave because "it's not even out yet" but im simply too seated.

6 MONTHS EARLIER

how can it be? you and me

might be meant to be, can't unseen it

but i don't wanna cause no scene

im usually so unproblematic

so independent, tell me why

'cause the boy is mine, mine

it was supposed to be for album promotion. sitting in the stands at rogers arena - right behind the home bench so the camera had easy access to see your dazzling face as the game unfolded in front of you. "he's kind of cute," your best friend courtney leans in towards you, pointing out one of the players only a few feet away from you behind the glass.

HUGHES. 43.

you study his side profile for a second - not giving him any real attention. you were here strictly on business and if people started suspecting you were eyeing somebody who was rumoured to be in a relationship (you checked) you knew that your publicist would call you in distress.

"i think hes taken," you whisper back, nervously eyeing the people sitting around you.

courtney nudges you with a small chuckle, "you checked?"

you playfully nudge her back, before settling back into your seat. to tell the truth, you were on a strict "no dating" rule ever since your ex boyfriend ran his mouth to page six detailing how you "cheated" on him with someone in a relationship. it wasn't a true story of course, but everyone flocked to the headlines anyway as an excuse to call you horrid names and say i just never liked her anyway!

hughes turns around then, and you feel your breath hitch as the speakers call out your name and your flushed face is plastered across the jumbotron. "you so like him," courtney laughs and you can't help but join her.

"portia's gonna kill me,"

"oh come on! a new relationship is a publicists dream... plus, i think he likes you. he literally cannot stop staring," you look to where courtney points and you see the defensemen skating towards centre ice - his eyes flicking towards you before he grounds himself in the game.

butterflies immediately fill up your chest and you know your screwed. the boy is mine.

something about him is made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you don’t know how she did it, but as soon as the final buzzer rang courtney was pulling you up and out of your seat and dragging you through the various corridors of the arena. “where are we going?” you ask, letting courtney pull you along.

“i’ve got connections babes,” she replies before coming to a halt in-front of a door. she knocks twice and a nice man wearing a suit opens the door slightly.

“you all good?” he turns his head and yells into the room.

“court…” your confusion is clear but before you can ask any questions the man swings the door open and your face to face with the canucks roster. “courtney!” you hiss lowly and she squeezes your hand tightly.

“you’re welcome…” she teases as she drops your hand and steps into the room.

as if your eyes were magnets, you lock eyes with quinn. his cheeks tinge with pink, and you quickly avert your gaze.

the man from before introduces you to the room - even though it’s not really necessary. your “scandals” have been plastered all over the news since your brief hiatus from music left everyone bored and in need of gossip.

"hughes - i mean uh quinn. i'm quinn," the man from the ice stutters as he reaches a hand out towards you. you slip your hand into his and with an awkward pause you two drop your hands.

"im y/n," you reply with a small smile and courtney silently slips away to greet the other players.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

everything happened surprisingly fast. one minute you were sharing your number with quinn - against all rational judgement - and the next the two of you were taking any gaps in your schedules to spend time together. coffee dates turned into lunches, which turned into dinners, and then there were nights wrapped in each others sheets. it was all so crazy and fast - and it turned out that quinn wasn't seeing anybody after all.

please know this aint what i planned for

probably wouldnt bet a dime or my life on

there's gotta be a reason why

my girls, they always come through in a sticky situation

say, "it's fine"

happens all the time

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liked by _quinnhughes, courtney, sukiwaterhouse, and 786 712 others

yourusername 🌞

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courtney miss youu

user06 cuties !!!!

user07 quinns liking her posts again...

user08 he saw her at his game months ago and instantly folded... i respect that in a man

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 31 409 others

_quinnhughes Summa😎🌊

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trevorzegras what the dog doin

user09 now who's damn dog...

user10 TOULOUSE???

user11 ? who tf is toulouse

user12 it's yns dog!! istg she and quinn are dating

when you don't think the rumours are true but... your attention is stuck on your phone screen as your leaked song plays in the background of a tiktok. a pretty blonde girl lip syncs your song with annoyance and you watch the video a total of three times before clicking on the caption. "guess she fantasized about my bf too much and now hes hers lol... she's sick."

"do you know this girl?" you ask quinn and he lazily looks up from the pasta he's cooking. you mute the video as chills go up your spin. there is absolutely no way that quinn was seeing someone when the two of you first got together all those months ago.

"no why, is she your friend?" quinn replies easily.

you stare back at the video and all of the interactions it has. over two-hundred-thousand likes and all the comments are bashing you for something you didn't even do. you were so beyond tired of this situation and people using your name for attention. "no, i don't know her either," you respond distantly. you forward the video to your managers and hope they can rectify the situation.

"it's nothing," you dismiss your earlier question when you realize that quinn is still lingering on you. he reluctantly nods before turning his attention back to his pan. "thanks for coming here by the way - i know your schedules insane," quinn speaks up, mentioning the break in your studio time to come visit his lake house in michigan.

"thank you for inviting me," you set your phone down - completely committing to ignore the online drama and to focus on what's in front of you.

something about him was made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you had never spent so much time in one place. you were only supposed to be in vancouver for a few studio sessions with a producer native to the city - but ever since meeting quinn you became enamoured with the city. but it wasn't just vancouver either - you were also splitting your time between michigan as well. which, before meeting quinn was just a single stop on an 100-show tour.

but strangely despite everything, vancouver feels like home as you begin navigating your new album cycle and the words of 'wisdom' from your publicist portia who - you swore was only discouraging you from your relationship so she wouldnt have to stave off angry people on social media.

"i was thinking... gossip girl marathon and we order-in?" quinn suggests as soon as you step foot into his apartment. your mind settles as youre welcomed into your boyfriends space.

"have you ever watched gossip girl?" you ask, tossing your bag onto the couch before sliding up next to quinns spot in the kitchen. he had various online menus pulled up on his laptop, ready to order whatever you desired.

quinn hums, "i watched it with my mom when i was younger. i'm team blair,"

"team blair?" you gasp, "ohh you were made for me," you laugh lightly as you point towards one of the menus on his screen. "i'm so down to watch gossip girl,"

"do you wanna go set up the tv while i order the food?" he asks and you kiss him on the cheek before making your way into his living room.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

"i think we should riff off 'fantasize'," you speak to your music producer - max - finally wanting to take back the energy from your leaked song. you were tired, and with quinn away on pre-season hockey duties you were bored. "something more sophisticated," you explain as you click through various samples and instrumentals. you finally land on one half-finished record and the lyrics immediately come to you.

"the boy is mine..." you hum along to the empty track as you pull out your notes app. "i can't wait to try him-" you continue, rapidly noting lyrics in your app.

by the end of your studio session the basic structure of the song was completed and you knew you had a hit on your hands.

and i know it's simply meant to be

and i, take full accountability for all these years

promise you i'm not usually

like this, shit, its like news to me

but i can't ignore my heart, boy

"the boy is mine, i can't wait to try him..." you sing quietly to yourself as you search pinterest for music video inspiration. "let's get intertwined... the stars they aligned..." quinns smirk immediately presses against your soft shoulder. he trails light kisses across your shoulder blade and up to your neck, silently begging you to continue singing your newest song.

"the boy is mineee..." his soft lips are ticklish against your skin but you can't help but lean into his grasp.

"i love when you sing," he mumbles and you tilt your head to rest against his. halle berry's cat woman buzzes in the background but neither of you are paying the movie any attention.

you hum, "oh yeah?"

he kisses your shoulder again and you fix your gaze back onto your laptop screen before lightly closing it and setting it to the side. "i still don't know what i'm going to do about the music video,"

quinn lays back in bed and allows his gaze to fixate on the tv. "what about catwoman? i'd bet you'd look good in a cat suit" he teases. you knew he wasn't being entirely serious but halle berry easily captures your attention as she dazzles on screen in her catsuit.

"the boy is mine," you hum lightly, completely enticed with quinns idea for your music video.

i can't wait to try him

lets get intertwined

the stars, they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i can't believe my mind

the boy is divine

boy is mine

the male lead for the boy is mine video is a no-show. multiple calls to his personal phone, calls and emails to his managers and agency, everything is left unanswered.

quinn🤍🌙: i'm out front. i got your favourite drink

you sigh with relief as you quickly excuse yourself from the upset mass of production staff and your cinematographer.

"hey, what's wrong?" your boyfriend of almost a year asks with concern etched across his features. you blink slowly and all your frustrations manifests into tears.

"the shoot is going so bad," you breathe heavily, "and we're so behind schedule,"

quinn wipes away your fallen tears with his thumb. "why what's happening?"

"the male lead hasn't shown up yet and he and agency aren't answering our calls," you lean against quinn and he easily wraps a hand around your waist. "i've filmed most of my solo shots but i know the crew is getting upset and i don't know what to do. we're trying to find a replacement but-"

"i'll do it," quinn says quietly and measuredly.

"what?" you blink and pull away from him slightly. quinn passes you your drink and you allow the coolness of the cup to soothe some of your nerves.

"i'll be in the video" he repeats. "if you want- i mean i don't want to overstep or-"

you lightly tap quinns hand with your own. "i'd love if you were in the video," you say softly, nerves completely dissipating with his comfort and the solution to your problem. "thank you," you kiss his cheek.

less than an hour later quinn was fitted in his costume and was debriefed on the scenes he would be filming.

─── ➤ 📹

you left quinn to film his presidential speech sequence so that you could get ready to film the catsuit portion of the video. your dress was tight and your brown wig made you take on your pop-girl persona that you'd been sheltering ever since the infidelity allegations ruined your reputation.

"oh you look so good," quinn wanders up to you as soon as you step onto the apartment set. he eyes your latex dress before smoothing a hand down your side gently. "i was right about the outfit," he jokes easily and you lean against his side while the crew finishes marking the next scene.

"you don't look too bad yourself," you blush under the weight of his gaze. you trail one of your hands up the front of his chest before realizing where the two of you were. not like it would be a crime to ogle your boyfriend on your music video set... but still.

"how was filming your speech?" you ask, pulling away from him slowly.

"only forgot my lines once!" quinn jokes with a laugh, to which you immediately join in on.

"that's my boy!"

"okay, y/n - quinn, we're ready for you two now," your lovely director calls out across the set.

PRESENT DAY

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, bradytkachuk, arianagrande, and 6.7M others

yourusername "the boy is mine" is out now!!🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ starring my boy _quinnhughes, featuring brandy & monicadenise !!!!🥹🥹🫶 and directed by the amazing christhedirector

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christhedirector the best is yet to come!🎬

_quinnhughes had the best time with you!❤️

arianagrande obsessed

jackhughes can't believe you let him on set

canucks the collab we didnt know we needed!🐈‍⬛💙

user13 QUINN???? HUGHES????

user14 the most insane hard launch wtf?

user15 the boy may be yours but i need him to be MINE!

user16 waittt this is the guy from the hockey game all those months ago??? wow

user17 mv was so good i started hallucinating

user18 loveeee you!!! this song and mv is literally so good!

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 361 043 others

_quinnhughes "the boy is mine" by the amazing yourusername is out everywhere now!❤️

tagged: yourusername

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lhughes_06 can't believe this exists

_eliaspettersson 📸📸

trevorzegras damnnnn you really weren't lying

_quinnhughes ?

bboeser looking good💯

user19 WHAT

user20 me next pls

user21 so the rumours were true this whole time👀

user22 so did she cheat or not like...

user23 plss he wasnt even following that tiktok girl it was definitely a lie for views lmao.

user24 soooo their relationship is confirmed ?

user25 hughes girlies lost

user26 OHHH I WON I LOVE U BOTH SM!!

user27 this mv has me feeling things hold on...

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, madisonbeer, jackhughes, and 5.7M others

yourusername last photo dump i promiseeee !!! this project has been an absolute dream and i'm so happy that it's finally yours after all these months! i can't wait for u guys to see what else we've been working on.. ;)

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_quinnhughes the most talented♥️

user28 TRUE LOVE?? oh this quinn stuff is serious huh...

user29 i get it

user30 loveee you the most

THE END <3

-

-

-

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART I

—invisible string

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst..? cussing, age gap, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: enjoy and please let me know if you'd like a part two! i'm already writing it lol but i'd like to know anyways <3

masterlist with next parts!

You’d always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Oscar had introduced you two just in passing a few years ago—eight years ago, to be exact—at some party at his house.

New York, New York

September 4th, 2015

You were outside in the backyard, dressed far more casually than the occasion called for. It was a chilly night, and the music was blasting from inside the house.

You were tired from all the traveling, touring, and filming. You loved your job and were extremely grateful that things were working in your favor, but boy, did it leave you drained. You hadn't spent time with Oscar, or really any of your friends, in quite some time, so you thought a night out wouldn't hurt after working too much.

So there you were, enjoying the chill night air, when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“There you are!" Oscar said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you for like 20 minutes; I thought you left!" he continued, in a very dramatic manner, you must add.

You couldn't help but smile at his theatrics as you welcomed him with a hug. "Oh, I could never leave a party of yours without saying goodbye. You know I'm better than that." you speak softly, suddenly noticing another person behind him.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Pedro,” he says this as he turns to face Pedro. "He's a fan," Oscar says in a singsong manner.

Pedro is standing there with his cheeks flushed and a smile forming on his lips. Although part of you wanted to be cocky about it and torture him a little, you bit your tongue, not wanting to make this worse for him.

Of course you knew who Pedro was. And not because he was in two of the most famous TV shows at the moment; it was because Oscar and Sarah wouldn't shut up about him. In every conversation you had over the phone with either of them, Pedro's name always found a way to come up. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they could not hide their enthusiasm for him.

So to say you were interested in meeting him was an understatement. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Before you could properly introduce yourself, Oscar's name was called from inside the house. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it." he says, "Please be nice to each other!" he yells as he walks back inside. You shake your head in amusement.

"You are more beautiful in person," Pedro says in his very captivating, deep voice, catching you by surprise.

Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.

“I thought you were shorter," you say back, daringly. Although it was an honest comment, it was also a way to deflect attention from the fact that he just called you beautiful.

Pedro laughs loudly, as if you had just told him the funniest joke ever.

"I am not trying to be mean or rude; I really thought you were like 5'3." you continued, putting your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.

"So you know who I am?" he asks, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, I like to enjoy good television in my free time." you tell him, focusing on his face.

He was more beautiful in person, too. To your relief, he was dressed similarly to you. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into dark jeans that fit him in all the right places. His hair was a bit tousled, and his mustache looked like it had been recently groomed. He must be filming Narcos, you thought. You also noticed his kind brown eyes. He had a warmth and friendliness about him that was immediately apparent.

"Also, our friends don't seem to know how to shut up about you. You are quite the talk of the town lately."

Your words made him smile. He doesn’t say anything but narrows his eyes, and you can practically hear his thoughts clamoring around in his head. "Alright, back to me being short, " you rolled your eyes as he continued with his speech, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually 5'11." He takes a seat on one of the small couches that have been set up in the backyard, prompting you to follow suit and take a seat as well.

"Like I said, I didn't mean it in a bad wa—" he cuts you off before you finish your sentence. "Ah, don't worry about it. Plus, if you still think that's short, I'll make up for my height with my other great qualities."

You let out a small laugh, relieved that he didn't take offense to your remark. Again. You look at him and reply, "Oh, I can't wait to see these other great qualities."

The transition from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends was just as easy, and you quickly became an unlikely pair of sorts.

You did everything you could together. From having movie marathons whenever you both happened to be in the same city to visiting different coffee shops and ordering the same thing every time—you anything that involved caramel and him four shots of black coffee over ice—it felt as if you had known each other your whole lives.

You were inseparable, and it felt effortless, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long finally fitting just right.

Given that you were in a serious, long-term relationship when you met, the tabloids didn't dig too much. All of the articles referred to you as friends, which saved you from having awkward conversations or even thinking too deeply about the whole thing.

There was also the age thing. Pedro was older than you, so everyone just assumed you'd never go there. Your boyfriend at the time never questioned your friendship with Pedro, either.

However, you now wish he had. It would've implied he was concerned, which you now know he wasn't. He was busy with other things. You don't exactly remember when things started to fall apart between the two of you. But you do remember how it felt when you found out he was cheating. It felt like a gut punch. The fact that the whole world also knew it didn't make it any better, either. You felt completely betrayed and exposed, not just by your boyfriend but by the whole world that seemed to be privy to your pain.

As any rational person would, you succumbed to work. If you were working, you wouldn't really have time to deal with all the viscerally painful emotions that have flooded your body ever since everything went to shit. You kept filming, and you kept making music. Endless hours spent at the piano provided you with incomparable peace and tranquility. Who knew a life-altering breakup was what you needed to write the best music of your career? At least something good had to come out of this disaster.

Of course your friends and family helped you navigate this process as well. However, one person stands out above the rest: Pedro.

It's like he made it his life mission to put you back together. He'd call just to check up on you, tell you random stuff about his day just to keep your mind off things, ask what book you were currently invested in, or simply say he missed you because months had passed and you couldn't see each other because of work.

"What time is it over there?" he asks, his voice was hoarse, as if he had just woken up.

"1:30 AM," you reply, glancing at your phone, "we're still shooting some stuff."

He groans into the phone, "I fucking hate it when filming drags on for too long."

"Yeah, tell me about it." you say this as you were stretching your back. You had been filming since the afternoon; it was currently past midnight, and production was still going. To say you were exhausted was an understatement. "Alright, I'll text you later. My break's sadly over."

"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."

In other circumstances, you two happened to be in the same place at the same time. The parties were the best part of awards season. The entire purpose of the parties was to campaign for whatever projects were gaining traction, but for you, it meant spending time with friends you hadn't seen in a long time and having fun.

That explains why, four cosmos down, you were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dance floor with some of your friends. Or maybe it was five cosmos down. Truth be told, you stopped counting after the second one. You weren't the type to get wasted, but your goal for the night was to have fun, and alcohol definitely helped with that.

You start to get a little tired from all the dancing, so you head to the nearest couch. Sitting next to Sarah, she opens her arms to embrace you. "My little dirty dancer!" she says loudly, making everyone around you laugh. "Oh shut up, can't a girl have some harmless fun?" you say, a smirk on your face. You glance around the room at the grinning faces and shrug.

"It's karaoke time!" Jen, your friend and hostess for the evening, announced cheerfully, "Who wants to go first?"

"Oh, fuck me," Pedro groans, dragging his hand down his face. "I hate karaoke. I hate it. I don't want to sing karaoke, and I don’t want to listen to people sing karaoke."

He's sitting across from you with a beer in his hand and looking a little more drunk than you were. You chuckle as you watch him slump against the back of the chair during his karaoke rant.

This was no secret; after the first few weeks, when you began to hang out more frequently, he made sure to let you know this very important piece of information. That's why you took pleasure in doing it solely to irritate him.

"I will go first." You say this while looking him in the eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing that you understand exactly why he's been so adamant about it.

"Why do you like to torture me, kid?"

"I can't help it; you're fun to mess with, Pedrito."

Even though he hated karaoke, you knew you were the only person he enjoyed listening to. You could tell by the way his eyes lit up whenever you hit the right note, the way he'd shake his head and chuckle when you made a mistake, and the smile that crept onto his face when you'd finished the song. Despite this, he would never admit to enjoying it.

You were busy listening to some of your friends talk about how you didn't completely butcher your rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" when hands landed on your waist from behind and you felt a hot breath on your neck. "That was terrible, mi amor."

Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, you spot his beautiful brown eyes. "When will you admit how much you enjoy my karaoke performances?" you try to pretend you're mad, but you can't help the corners of your mouth turning up in a smirk.

Pedro chuckles, his body vibrating against yours. He leans down, his lips barely brushing yours, his breath ghosting across your skin. "Never," he says, almost in a whisper.

Your body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it's the alcohol. Without a doubt, the alcohol. You're unbothered by the proximity. The same way you're unbothered by the way he's smiling down at you.

"You're insufferable," you say, keeping the conversation moving so you don't have time to spiral.

He brings his beer to his lips, smirking as he sips. "If by insufferable you mean utterly charming, then you are right."

Just like he made it his mission to put you back together after your life fell apart, sometimes it was your turn to put him back together, too. No matter how hard he tried to bottle up his feelings, you were always the one who could get through to him, able to make him smile or make him think with just a few simple words.

Pedro was no longer a mystery to you. He's a contradiction in motion. He withdraws into the distance that comes with fame, but he also wants to connect. Despite having a tendency to be open, he tends to hold a lot of himself back. He cares so much and yet he's also uncomfortable caring so much.

You were both in London for different reasons but were staying in the same hotel. One night, you decide to stop by his room before leaving for an event. You knock three times before he opens the door.

"Have you been crying?" you ask him, immediately concerned.

He is initially hesitant to respond, but eventually caves. "Well, yeah."

"What happened?"

"It's kind of pathetic, really."

"Then let's be pathetic together. Tell me." you respond as you push your way into the room.

"Prince died," he says, his voice hoarse from the crying.

"Pedro..." you say quietly, not really knowing what to say.

"I know, I know. It's stupid."

"Of course not." you quickly reply, "There's no shame in crying, I know how much you love him." you take a deep breath and approach him, offering him your hand. "C'mere, let's sit down."

You started lowering yourself to the floor, and he followed. "You don't have to do this...you look like you've probably got somewhere else to be."

"I've got nowhere else to be."

The two of you just sat there, not saying a word. You held him while he cried, his head on your shoulder as you ran your hand through his hair. If you could go and bring Prince back from the dead just so he wouldn't hurt like this, you would do it in a heartbeat. But you knew that was impossible, so all you could do was sit there and comfort him.

"You two should date."

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Sarah?"

"What!" she laughs. "You're basically dating already."

Since you hadn't seen each other in a while, Sarah had extended an invitation for you to have breakfast at her house. She had questioned you about your love life after discussing a number of other topics, and when you replied that you were still single, she made that absolutely ridiculous remark.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," she says, almost giggling, "that you two are doing the things that couples do, like going on dates and spending time together."

"We don't go on dates," you quickly reply, "and I don't like him like that."

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced, and asks, "Why?"

"Because..." you trail off, "Because he's Pedro... and I am me."  Even though you were aware that what you were saying made no sense, you refrained from going into detail.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"There's nothing to see, Sarah."

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment you first realized that occasionally, completely unprompted, your thoughts would turn to Pedro.

This was similar to how you two became friends without ever consciously choosing to do so. The mere thought of his loud, booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you crack a joke would make the corner of your mouth twitch into a small smile. Eventually, you understood that those thoughts of Pedro and the slight thrill they gave you were very different from friendship.

Yet you decided not to go there. You both enjoyed your friendship, and he never said or did anything to make you believe he felt otherwise. Or that was just a bunch of bullshit you came up with to not deal with it anyway.

You were friends, close friends, and you didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to that little voice in your head that occasionally whispered, "What if...?"

It wasn't until one night that everything changed. You're still unsure if it was for better or worse.

You were changing into far more comfortable clothes than you'd been wearing all day. It was finally Friday, something you were very grateful for since work had been nothing but tedious lately. You had the weekend off; it seemed like an eternity since you had been free for a couple of days.

As you slipped on your favorite and very worn-out t-shirt, your phone rang. "Ugh, what now?" you whined. You were suddenly regretting your words as you picked up the phone; his throaty voice filled your ears, and you felt instantly better. It was almost embarrassing.

"I heard you had a shitty week," he says, "I am coming over."

"How'd you know that?"

"The more important question here is why have you been in New York for days and didn't tell me? I'm actually hurt, love."  

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just been a little rough."

The guilt immediately washes over you. You knew that you should have called or even sent him a quick text, but your mind was only focused on getting through the week. It was like you were on autopilot.

"I will be there in 20 minutes." he replies, hanging up.

Without anything better to do, you decide to wash some dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night while you wait for Pedro to arrive. You quickly finish that and then decide to pass the remaining time by reading a book you started a couple of weeks ago. You flip through the book's pages, trying to recall where you left off because the earmarked corner you'd marked seemed to have disappeared.

Before you can find the page, your cellphone screen lights up again, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye, and though it feels silly and childish, you can feel the way your heart leaps and your chest tightens just a fraction when you read the notification and see Pedro's name. "I'm here."

You rush to the door, flinging it open with a gust of energy, and you find him standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding a bag, a crooked smile on his lips. "I brought wine and takeout from that place you love down on 54th." It had been months since you'd last seen him, and it was like no time had passed at all. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you take the bag, allowing your eyes to meet his with a smile. Fuck.

As you set everything on the kitchen counter, you both decide to eat right away. The warm, inviting scent of the food spread throughout the kitchen, and it was as if all your worries and tiredness had disappeared. The conversation flowed perfectly as you both devoured the delicious food, and you were grateful for the moment of peace.

After finishing your meal, he helps you collect everything and clean up the kitchen.

"You’ll get wrinkles if you keep working that hard, mama," he tells you as he throws something in the trash can, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't call me that," you giggle, a little tipsy from the wine. "It makes me feel—" you stop yourself before you finish the sentence. Fuck.

"It makes you feel what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Well, it makes you feel embarrassed, as if you have let your guard down and revealed too much of your innermost thoughts. And it gives you butterflies. But you don't tell him that. "Nothing," you say, "it's just funny."

You knew you didn't have it in you to keep your thoughts, body, and face under control, especially when he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, looking like he just stepped out of a movie. You were feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your thoughts were written all over your face, so you did what you do best: you changed the subject.

"Remember that one time we got high on edibles to go see The Incredibles 2?" you blurt, hoping he would forget what just came out of your mouth. He looked at you for a moment, as if he were considering your question, before bursting out in laughter.

"How could I forget?" he says. "It's one of our finest moments."

"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."

You go to one of the kitchen drawers and pull out the box of cookies. "I can't believe you're offering me drugs." Pedro says in a dramatic tone.

"Oh shut up, do I need to remind you whose idea it was last time?" you roll your eyes, grabbing two cookies and throwing one at him.

"Should we honor last time and watch a movie?" he says as he takes a bite of the cookie.

To be entirely honest, you should have known that things were about to go off the rails the very moment the man at the other end of the couch, in that impossibly confident and seductive voice, asked you to come closer. "You're miles away from me, princesa."

If you had been wise, you would have politely declined. If you had any sense of self-preservation when it came to Pedro, you would have declined his offer and avoided thinking about him fucking you into this very couch. But you weren't wise, which is why your legs are thrown over his lap and his fingers are drawing circles in your thighs. Pedro’s gaze feels like a caress, and his voice is thick, "You look like you're thinking too hard."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"I said you looked like you were thinking too hard." he replies, "What's running through that pretty head of yours?"

Your teeth are tugging at your bottom lip in a way that Pedro seems to find distracting because he nearly slips up and breaks the carefully maintained eye contact, his gaze darting down just a fraction of an inch. You don't know where the courage came from, but you lean in on your elbows, lifting yourself from the laying position you were in, closing the gap even further until it's impossibly small.

You can tell you know what you've been doing when you pause with only a breath of space between your mouth and his, worrying at your lip with the intention of getting him to break first, like you’re challenging him to decide where this goes next. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" you finally reply, your gaze not wavering for a second. Pedro's hesitation is just a second before his mouth parts, leaning in just enough to touch your forehead and close his eyes.

"I think you're thinking about all the wrong things we could be doing right now instead of watching this boring movie."

"I think you're correct."

His lips curl into a smile, pulling away only slightly to look you in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"  

And that's when it happens. You lean in, your lips slamming into his so quickly that your thumb gets caught in the middle. He nips at it, biting down a little harder than he wanted to, but you don't mind and simply move it out of the way, sliding it away from his mouth and resting it across his cheekbone. You straddle his lap, and as his hands find their way to your waist and his lips move ever so hungrily against yours, you feel a fire inside.

Everything is happening so fast, and the room is spinning around you. You're not sure if you're feeling this way because of the drugs or because of Pedro. You can feel the pressure of his hands against your skin and a warmth radiating through you; all you know is that you don't want it to end. As you begin to grind against his hard on, he moves his hands to your ass and grips it tightly.

"You like that, hm?" he rasps, between kisses. You moan in agreement, and one of his free hands travels up your body to the nape of your neck and squeezes it tightly. You gasp at the sensation and move your body to match his movements, pushing yourself closer against him.

It's rough and messy. You're both desperate, as if you've been waiting your entire lives to do this. Pedro's hands covered your entire body, and his mouth kissed your neck and mouth roughly, as if trying to make up for the years of anticipation.

"Fuck, P," you moan; he wasn't giving you even a second to breathe.

"Tell me what you need, princesa."

"I need you to touch me."

"Your wish is my command."

Pedro moved quickly, his fingers caressing and teasing your body as he worshipped you with each touch until he finally reached your shorts.

He slides his hand down your panties and groans. "I haven't even touched you properly, and you're already wet, baby." His fingers pressed down softly as he moved around your clit, rubbing and massaging it until you felt yourself close to the edge. He manages to get his free hand under your shirt, and he massages your breasts, pinching your nipples softly as you moan in pleasure.

"Are you gonna come for me, princesa, hm?"

"Y-yeah..." you gasp, not even ashamed of how quickly your orgasm was approaching, "I can't... hold it..."

He took that as a sign to go faster and harder, and as he continued to draw circles on your clit, a wave of pleasure swept through your body, culminating in a moan that signaled your impending climax.

"Fuck!" you screamed as you came suddenly, body trembling and hips bucking once more. Pedro let out a groan at the sight and sounds you were making. You're both gasping for air, one of his hands on one side of your face, your foreheads touching.

And that's when it happens. Instant regret.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

What have you done?

reblog or like if you enjoyed it!

[midnightstar16]

Whispers of Love: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Reader is new in Kattegat and catches the attention of a certain Ragnarsson.

Warnings: Assault, murder, slight swearing(i think)

You came to Kattegat just a couple days ago but it didn’t take much time at all for you to notice the famous sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. You only saw them from a safe distance as they talked to one another. You noticed one of the boys was crippled but not before you saw his face. You were in awe, to say the least. But your eyes must have lingered on him for quite some time for he met your gaze with an intense stare that sent chills down your spine. You never had more reason to leave and go back to the hut you were staying in.

You became an orphan at the mere age of 12 and had taken care of the farm for many years with your older brother. But the two of you had recently decided that you wanted a far more exciting future than just farming on the land so you sold the land and took the money to buy a hut and look after yourself just until you had settled in. You forgot about Ivar soon enough once you reached you new home and moved on with your new life.

A month passed by and living in Kattegat was so much more different than the farm. It was much louder, faster and there were more people than you could count. But it was not to your dislike, it was the contrary actually. You had started your training to be a physician and you were doing nicely. Everything was working out better than you or your brother could’ve imagined.

Ivar had not stopped thinking about you ever since that little eye contact in the market and it may have been a bit delusional of him to still believe that he would see you again. You were probably not even in Kattegat anymore because he could not find you anywhere. You were the first girl to look at him with such admiration and he drowned in your beauty the second he laid eyes on you.

During dinner he seemed to have zoned out because Sigurd had to throw some food at him to get his attention. Ivar was immediately annoyed and glared at him. Trying to stop himself from flinging his axe at his brother, he asked, “Why are you throwing food around like a child?”

“You wouldn’t listen. Had to do something to bring you back to Midgard,” he replied.

Ivar rolled his eyes, already feeling great anger towards his brother but before he could say anything, his mother interrupted, “We are celebrating Yol tomorrow.”

Ivar drowned in his thoughts once more. He would know if you were in Kattegat by tomorrow night. If you were in the town, then you would be at the feast and he would approach you. He wanted to know all there was to know about you; all the important and unimportant things of your life.

You and Kalf, your brother began cleaning up the plates and horns after dinner. You broke the silence, “It is Yol tomorrow. There will be a great feast.”

“Yes, I have not been in the Great Hall since the Thing, where I got my arm ring. Just thinking about the food that will be there makes me hungry all over again,” Kalf spoke excitedly.

“We have just had dinner, you fool. How are you always this hungry?” You spoke laughingly.

“Your cooking will make any man excited to eat something else,” he commented.

Gasping, you threw the nearest thing you could find at him at which he simply laughed. You spoke sarcastically, “I won’t make food for you if you really hate it that much.”

“Well, I mean it’s not THAT bad if I think about it,” he retaliated.

Smiling smugly, you spoke, “Better.”

The feast was spectacular. You sat on a different table from your brother though because you knew he would embarrass you the first chance he got. The food and the ale was so good you could feast all night. There was music as well and many were dancing to it but you weren’t drunk enough yet to give yourself away to the music. You simply talked and laughed with your newly made friends.

Looking around the hall, you suddenly noticed certain eyes on you and then the memory came back. Those blue piercing eyes and that face, he was perfect in every way. You maintained the eye contact for long, getting lost in his eyes until one of your friends whispered, “That’s Ivar. The crippled one.”

You looked at her. You had heard of Ragnar Lothbrok’s crippled son. The girl continued, “They say he is a menace, quicker to anger than most men, so don’t let his legs fool you and not only that, but I’ve heard that he is stronger and better at fighting than any of his brothers. Apparently he strangled a boar with his bare hands but that is probably not true.”

“Of course it is not true,” you scoffed. After waiting a second, you suggested, “Come, let us dance. The music is lovely.”

The both of you giggled and rushed to give yourself away to the music. You soon felt the beat through your veins and the rhythm matching with your heartbeat. You danced uncontrollably, partly because you wanted to see how the crippled prince would react, if at all. His eyes had barely faltered from you and it was making you uncomfortable but you didn’t want him to know that. You didn’t want him to know that he made you feel weak by simply looking at you but every now and then you would give him a glance.

You suddenly felt a hand around your waist. You didn’t know who the man was for you had never seen him. His hold on you was not budging when you struggled. His other hand was roaming at places on your body that made you terrified and the hall was crowded enough for no one to truly notice your struggle.

“Let go of me!” you said, struggling.

“Oh what’s a bit of harmless fun? Especially with a woman of your beauty,” the man spoke.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as he continued to ‘dance’ and play around with your body until something that you hadn’t expected in a million years to happen. A knife suddenly struck his head as his eyes remained widened with shock. You quickly stepped away as his body fell to the ground. The tears ran down your face and you looked around trying to figure out who it was until you saw everyone looking at Ivar who was glaring at the man’s limp body. It was different to how he had looked at you in every singly way but you didn’t stay around to find out more. Feeling absolutely overwhelmed, you stormed out of the hall with Kalf following.

“What happened back there?” Kalf spoke worriedly.

“I-…” you hesitated. Before you could speak, your brother interrupted, “You don’t have to tell me. It is fine… Come on, let us go to our hut.”

Ivar had had his eyes on you all evening, his brothers even teasing him about it but he quickly turned them away angrily. But when he saw that asshole trying to touch you without consent, Ivar felt an uncontrollable anger. He wanted to skin the bastard alive but he couldn’t simply watch you struggle like that. Even after killing the man, Ivar felt no guilt. Why should he? He was simply protecting you, making sure you were safe.

No one had asked him about why he had done what he did. Perhaps it was already too obvious. Perhaps he had scared you off. You wouldn’t even want to go near him now. He felt his insecure thoughts weighing him down during the night.

You barely slept through the night, the picture of the knife piercing the man’s skull replaying in your mind and then seeing the look Ivar had on his face. That menacing look, the one that could take down entire armies.

The next day, you went away from the town to feel the quiet of nature that you had already begun to miss. You walked around the forest, finding a riverbank to sit nearby quickly enough. You thought about what had happened last night, how, in some really fucked up way, Ivar saved you. But he also killed a man who will never experience Valhalla now. Then again, that monster didn’t deserve Valhalla. You sat there wondering what would’ve happened if Ivar had not intervened.

“Mind if I join you?” you heard a voice from behind. When you turned your head and saw that it was Ivar, you quickly stood up.

“Were you following me?” you realised in this moment, you were terrified of him.

“Will it help if I said no? Either way, you walk too fast so I had to find you myself,” he spoke. When you didn’t say anything, it didn’t take him long enough to realise how you felt, “You are scared of me.”

Scoffing, you reasoned, “Who wouldn’t be? You killed a man while I was simply inches away.”

“He was hurting you,” Ivar remarked as if that was reason enough.

“But you could’ve killed me,” you argued.

Ivar grinned, “I didn’t though, did I?”

“Well… No but still, it was terrifying,” you said while Ivar made himself comfortable by sitting against the trunk of a fallen tree.

Even though Ivar worked very hard to not show it, he had been very nervous to actually talk to you. Now that you were here, he didn’t want to ever leave.

You stood there silently before sitting down in front of him. What was it about him that you felt so drawn towards?

He looked at you lovingly, “What is your name?”

“Y/N is what they call me… But I already know who you are, Ivar,” you acknowledged.

“Do you?” Ivar joked.

“That anger in those gorgeous eyes of yours, how could you be mistaken?” you replied.

“My eyes are ‘gorgeous’?” he couldn’t control his smile.

You blushed, “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“I’m afraid so. I don’t mind the compliment though, please, y/n, carry on about my gorgeous eyes,” he teased. Truth was, he felt a thousand butterflies. He’d never gotten a compliment from anyone.

The two of you continued making jokes at one another, laughing constantly and time flew by ever so quickly. Ivar couldn’t believe the sun was about to set. With you, he didn’t have to worry about anything. He felt at peace.

When his brothers asked where he had been, he simply smiled and shrugged. For the first time in so long, he didn’t feel furious. There was something about you, like you were a goddess who appeared to save him. The next day Ivar went up to the same place, hoping you would show up. He was almost about to leave until he saw you show up.

You finished your work as a physician for the day as quickly as you could and relied on your friends to cover up for you. Once out of Kattegat, you practically ran to the same spot on the riverbank as yesterday. You didn’t know how but you just knew that he would be there, nor did you know why you felt so eager to go to him either.

You continued these secret meetings for as long as you could. No one was aware of who or where you actually went but you didn’t care even if they found out. Ivar had become your sanctuary as you had become his.  

During one such evening, as the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the riverbank, you found yourselves lost in a conversation filled with laughter. Ivar had a knack for weaving humor into every exchange, and you found yourself charmed by his wit and the way his eyes sparkled with amusement.

Ivar grinned, his eyes dancing with mirth. "See? I told you I was the funniest person you'd ever meet."

Laughing, you shook your head. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that."

His gaze softened as he looked at you, a warmth filling his eyes. "I'm glad you find me amusing, y/n."

You smiled back, feeling a flutter in your chest at the sincerity in his voice. "You have a way with words, Ivar."

He chuckled softly. "Only when I'm with you."

The air between you seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, and before you could think, you found yourself leaning in closer to him.

Ivar's hand gently brushed against your cheek as he whispered, "You're beautiful when you laugh, y/n."

Unable to resist the pull any longer, Ivar reached out, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. His touch was tender, sending a shiver down your spine as you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest.

As your lips clashed with an overdue feeling of affection for one another, Ivar kissed you passionately and possessively almost as if declaring that you were his.

You pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, you found yourself lost in Ivar's eyes once more, a sense of belonging settling deep within your soul.

“I am yours, y/n, now and forever and you are mine,” Ivar’s words echoed in your heart as you buried your eyes in his, expressing a thousand unspoken words.

[chrisgotitall]

WAIT WE NEED DRUNK MIKE AND SOBER READER AFTER ATTENDING A WEDDING / A PARTY / ANY KIND OF FUNCTION TOGETHER

as i read "Mike" and "wedding" together i instantly thought about that video of him popping his bum at a wedding party

You and Mike were at one of his Dear Evan Hansen’s ex-co star’s wedding. You were having a good time, everything was nice: the food, the music, the company…

Mike, however, thought that margaritas were another nice thing at the event.

He walks up to you and drags you on the dancefloor by your hand. You smile at his wasted smile and wrap your arms around his neck. He hugs your waist and sways with you.

“How many did you have?” you ask him, calmly.

“I think 2… 4, I don’t really remember. But you look really nice, tonight” he says.

You shake your head and scoff at his comment. You continue to dance with him.

“Changing topics is your favorite thing to do, huh?”

“Yep” he turns you around. You chuckle and get your arms back around his neck.

He doesn’t seem to want to stop dancing but you second him anyway.

A slow song starts so he pulls you closer to him and looks into your eyes. You look back at him and laugh, “What?”

“You look almost as pretty as the moon,” he says.

“We can’t see the moon in here” you look around to see what he was talking about and your face drops instantly, “That’s a paper lantern”

“And you’re almost as pretty” he looks extremely happy with his compliment, so you shake your head and laugh.

“You drank a little too much, honey,” you tell him, while he leaves a kiss under your ear.

“Nah…”

After an entire hour on the dancefloor, you realize it’s time to head back home. You look at the time on your phone, it’s 2 am.

“Since apparently, I’ll be the one driving, we should really head back home” you inform him.

“Mine or yours?” he asks you, seriously.

You look at him, “Ok, margaritas are your official drink to avoid… Ours!” you say.

“Oh, great”

[hotchfiles]

passenger seat.

pairing: seth cohen x fem!reader.

summary: you try so hard to help your best friend seth recover from his broken heart you forget about yours

content warnings: underage drinking, mentions of sex and drunk sex. the timeline is like... beginning of season 2, when seth comes back and finds out summer is dating zach. yes i'm gonna work on a part 2 i'm not that mean.

word count: 1,8k

      Summer Summer Summer Summer, it's honestly annoying how Seth can not seem to be able to talk about anything else anymore. And sure it has been like that since you were children, but since he was able to catch a glimpse of what dating her would be like and then lost it, well, he was down right impossible to be around.

      "Cohen, you're getting out of this bed right now, and you're getting some good music in your brain." You pull the cozy blankets from him with full strength while he tried to fight for it.

      "First of all, my brain is always full of good music. And second of all, My Summer is gone, my sun, all I have right now is the cold of winter and the solitude of being single, leave me in the warmth of my bed, please."

      You rolled your eyes and actually felt like you could reach enough to see your brain, his antics were usually amusing but Summer Summer Summer, you almost felt like warming up his face with a punch, but instead you took a deep breath, let go of the blankets and got closer to him, taking advantage of the element of surprise and pushing him out of his bed.

      "I have concert tickets, whiny baby, and Suuummeeer won't get back to you ever if you look that lame." That sparks his interest, you can see, and you're left to pretend it doesn't sting just a tiny bit, what matters is that he gets up and gathers some nice clothes before heading to his shower.

      "You're mean today, stop hanging out with Ryan," he yells from a distance, probably hoping it won't give you enough time for a snarky comeback. Obviously, he was wrong about that assumption, you both grew up together, you could almost predict what he would say already, you were always with a reply on the back of your mind.

      "We're taking turns so you stop being an ugly crying whiny mess."

      "Oh... That's why we took a cab."

      You stare back at him hoping he won't open his big mouth as the bartender serves the several, several shots of tequila you ordered using the not so good fake I.D you handed him. Although Orange County wasn't the best at keeping minors away from alcohol (beachy city full of rich kids) you still didn't want your plans to be ruined at the very beginning of the night.

      "Seth, I'm getting you hammered so you feel better for a night, and I don't hate you for a night." He seems concerned for a second, but knows you well enough not to argue, just as much as he can be annoying with his longass monologues, so can you, and you're not afraid to use violence if needed, misogyny needs to come in handy somehow, and not having your best friend fight you back has got to be it.

      You slide his half of the shots towards him and start quickly gulping yours, only half way in reality sets that maybe, maybe, that was not your best idea. But by then Seth was also doing his own shots and laughing as the tequila burnt his throat, his nose and lips twisting around each time.

      You hear screams and realize the band is probably beginning the set, so you get your beer and give one to Seth, and he makes a comment about how you weren't kidding about getting him hammered, but you almost can't hear him as you pull him by the shirt running so you both can get a reasonably good spot.

      Cohen was a Death Cab for Cutie fan, you knew it, everyone knew it, and if there were any concerts, meetings, or if you had their addressees, you would've chosen them for tonight, but Coldplay was all you could get last minute to get your curly haired boy out of his fortress of solitude at least for one night.

      You both enjoyed some indie rock music so the concert was fun from the start, especially with the alcohol that went straight to your brain as company to the songs that made your body move ever so slightly. Seth obviously didn't dance, he made it quite the point not to, "this is music to enjoy, not to dance, don't disgrace us like that," he says in between laughter and hiccups, giving his beer a tiny sip only because honestly he can not stand the smell of alcohol anymore.

      "Stop being such a looooser, dance with me!"

      You took the bottle from his hand and threw it along with yours on the nearest bin, leading his hands to your waist. This isn't weird. You don't think it's weird, but weirdly, Seth doesn't think it's weird either.

      You're more than thirty minutes into the concert and it's not a slow song at all, Don't Panic roars from the stage and from the audience, you both try to keep up to the rhythm, guiding him to twirl you around and showing him a two step easy peasy dance to follow.

      Seth almost falls down, you both laugh uncontrollably, he's way too drunk for this, you're way too drunk for this, his hands go back comfortably to your waist, as if it was a rooted reaction already, you felt your stomach turn as the music notes changed and you knew what song was coming.

      You looked up and Seth was already looking at you, his beautiful brown eyes staring at yours like he had just discovered something new.

      He wanted to kiss you, he really did, was that weird? Was that bad? Maybe he was too much in his head, and maybe he was too drunk, but he was single and you looked at him like that and you were oh so beautiful and trying so hard to make him smile and maybe he shouldn't because he was still hooked on Summer—but was he really? The more he looks at you, and the more you don't look away, the more he thinks that maybe this is just how things are supposed to be.

      And he didn't even notice what song was playing, too busy paying attention to your breathing, only when your drunken self decided that for some reason this was the time to confess, if anything, you could just play it off as if you were just singing along to Shiver "you know how much I need you, but you never even see me," and before you can hide your eyes and glue them to your feet, Seth pulls you by your neck for a sloppy drunken kiss, your hands grab his shirt but you waste no time and kiss him back.

      Both of you couldn't even wait for the concert to end, leaving and getting into the nearest cab you could find as soon as you can let go of each other for air. His address at the tip of your tongue not mattering how drunk you were.

      You get into the mansion tripping around as you try to kiss each other, not make a sound that could wake his parents, and also find his room, and when you do you almost fall on your ass due to his goddamn skateboard being right in front of his bed, you end up laughing out loud, but Seth closes the door before anyone can hear it.

      "I'm starting to think your parents won't like me sleeping over."

      Guilt starts creeping in and you're not even sure why, like you're doing something bad, something that won't be approved of, your best friend looks at you with a warm gentle smile, pulling you to him by your hand and having you sit on his lap as he's on the edge of his bed, both of your legs on each of his sides, your arms go to his neck.

      "My parents love you, they probably love you more than they love me. Ryan loves you more than he loves me." An overreaction, that's what that is, and you know it, very dramatic that boy, but it gets you giggling and you lean in for a tender, long kiss. but a question pops your mind and you stop it, you're not sure if it's the time to ask it, you might be ruining your only chance to have Seth.

      But you have to.

      "I know that. The real question is... Do you?" Your teeth nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, and Seth knows he loves you, he would never hesitate on that, so it's easy for him to get you close and touch your forehead with his, even if he doesn't know right now if it's the love you're looking for, he knows right now he wants to be with you, so it must be right.

      "Of course, Dumbo."

      You roll your eyes and push him till his back hits his bed, continuing what you two had started and leaving sloppy kisses to his neck as your hands found themselves under his shirt, your hips purposely taking advantage of your position and grinding slowly down his crotch, you imagined it would be easy to get Seth moaning but you didn't think it would be that easy. You loved it.

      You were both horny drunk teens, it took minutes for your clothes to be on the ground and for Seth to be inside of you, your legs surrounding his waist and your fingers pulling on his hair. And it isn't weird, it's familiar, it's hot, it's sensual without the need to pretend to be anything else. It's the best you've ever had simply by how connected you feel to Seth.

      You sleep into his arms, feeling his scent and you're afraid this is a dream you're soon to wake up from.

      You do panic when you wake up at 5A.M, not feeling like facing the rest of the Cohens after what you did to their precious son, Seth was still sleeping like a beautiful baby and you wouldn't wake him up, you hoped he wouldn't be mad at you for leaving without saying goodbye, but you brush your lips against his before sneaking out and you feel like the world is about three times brighter.

      That is, until 8A.M. you took a nap in your own bed to at least pretend you were home during the night, and woke up to Seth's texts after he woke up.

cohen: i rmbr coldplay cohen: i rmbr tequila cohen: nd i rmbr laughing a lot cohen: so even tho i might die of a hangover, thx cohen: might txt summer yellow lyrics dont stop me

      The lightweight bastard had forgotten everything, everything that made your night special. And went right back to Summer talking, maybe you should've just punched him the first time you thought about it.

[thehandmaidenofcreativity]

The Man Who Talks to Himself and the Girl Who Listens

WC: 6.7k

Rating: 18+, fluff to smut

Comments: idol!Seungmin and female reader. This is my first fic.. hope you like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

•

“That doesn’t even make sense…”

You wouldn’t have heard him if the song hadn’t just ended. For whatever reason, that little bit of muttering caught your interest. You hit pause before the next tune can fill your ears. He’s sitting just behind you. You’re tempted to sneak a peek at what he’s doing. You’re sure he came in alone, so it seems he’s talking to himself.

“Then again, confusion is a higher sense of consciousness...” He trails off.

What a brilliant way of thinking, you muse. He goes on outlining a plan of some sort, maybe for a novel or a play; it’s captivating. Unfortunately, he would stop thinking out loud at some points, but no matter how long the pause, you couldn’t turn your music back on and miss any of his magic. Because that’s what it felt like: magic. He was filling you with such wonder; you could burst.

After a while, he gets a phone call, though, and the show comes to an end. You hear him packing up his things; you watch him stride out of the cafe. Silly as it is, considering you don’t see his face, you think he looks handsome - tall, with broad shoulders and a pretty shade of reddish hair poking out from beneath a baseball cap.

The next day, you decide to return to the cafe. You tell yourself that it’s just a nice, low-key place to get work done and enjoy a few cups of tea, but in the back of your mind, you’re hoping the man will be there again. You arrive half an hour earlier than yesterday and sit at the same table, sipping on blueberry tea with your headphones in, laptop in front of you. Fifteen minutes in, you hear the bell on the door jingle. You try for nonchalance as you glance at the entrance. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him the day before, but you’re sure it’s the same man. To your delight, he brings his things to the table behind you before going to the counter. Despite the mask, you can tell your initial assessment was correct - he’s handsome. He has his hood up rather than a hat today, so you still don’t get the full effect of his hair, just see the slight waves of his bangs covering his forehead. His eyes are quite dark, but nice, and slightly downturned, reminding you of something or someone that you can’t place. How can someone look so good when most of their face is covered?

For the next few hours, you sit transfixed by the man, at times sitting stagnant just listening to him, your own work forgotten. Eventually, you both have to leave, but before you do, you stop by the barista. “Hey, this may be a weird question,” you try to sound as casual as possible. “But does that guy who was at the table behind me come in here often?”

“Yeah, he’s been in here most weekdays,” the girl responded. “But he probably has classes or something on Monday and Wednesday, cause I don’t usually see him then.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Odd as it feels, kind of stalking this man, you continue coming back to the cafe over the next couple weeks, only skipping those days when you’re sure that he won’t be there. At times, you even jot down questions that you’d want to ask him if you could, but you never speak to him. You always sit with your back to him, headphones in, pretending not to listen.

At the end of the week, he gets a phone call. As he heads outside to take it, you hear him say that he’ll be back on the road in about a week and feel a surge of panic for some reason. You realize that you can’t just be the girl who listens anymore.

You flip to the document that holds your questions for him and grab a notebook out of your bag. You quickly jot down the two most recent ones, furtively glancing at the door to check that he’s still on the phone. You can’t decide if you should write your email or your number; you almost can’t believe you’re doing this at all. You add to the top of the page “confusion may be a higher sense of consciousness, but I’m so curious” and write your email to the bottom. One more look at the door tells you that now’s your chance; you quickly set the note in front of his coffee.

While you were somehow brave enough to leave the note, you're certainly not brave enough to hear him read it. You hurriedly collect your things and head for the door. His call must’ve just ended; he opens the door and holds it, nodding at you. You hope your blush isn’t obvious, but even if it is, he must get that all the time. He’d left his mask off when he went outside. He is one of the most handsome men you’ve ever not-actually met. He has a strong, straight nose, and his face is oval shaped - a good mix of masculine and boyish. You kind of hate that he’s giving you that obviously fake, pursed, polite smile instead of a real one, but why wouldn’t he; you’re giving him the same one.

The next night when the notification sounds, you don’t think much of it. You almost decide not to check your email before bed, but something is nudging at the back of your mind. You click into it and see the subject line: Allow me to bring some clarity. You’re a little stunned that he actually wrote you, because it had to be him; who else would it be?

His answers are short, a little cryptic. But he told you that he’s writing music. You have the smallest insight into his head, and you love it. What you aren’t sure about is how you feel about the fact that he clearly knows who you are. Well. Maybe not clearly. He guessed that you’re you, another regular, or the waitress. He also wanted to know if you have more questions. He signed off as ‘Thinking Out Loud’ rather than giving his name. You wonder if you should avoid showing just how long you’ve been stalking him, but you are curious. It’s time to go big or go home. You thank him for his email and copy over the rest of your ‘Questions and Thoughts’ doc. You also consider fessing up, telling him who you are. But you could be mysterious, too. Ultimately, you sign off as ‘the Listener.’

The night passes, then the next day. It’s Monday, so you don’t go to the cafe. The anticipation is killing you. You decide that if he doesn’t respond before the night is over, you just won’t go back. Maybe that’s cowardly, but it would be mortifying. He’d obviously been freaked out by how long you’ve been listening to him. So much for that hobby and unraveling the mystery of Mr. Thinking Out Loud.

The next morning, you see that you received an email around 4 am. He had replied after all. He didn’t answer any questions, though. It simply read: Same time at the cafe today? Smiling like a fool, you get ready for the day and try not to freak out about the invitation. It was an invitation, wasn’t it? You take a little extra care with your appearance - applying a subtle lip stain, a little eyeliner, and mascara.

As usual, you arrive before him. You go back and forth about sitting at ‘your’ table or his. It is possible that he hadn’t been inviting you to truly interact with him. You sit at your own table and somehow manage to focus on your work for a while. You figure you have a bit of time before he arrives, so you head to the restroom. As you’re walking back toward your table, you freeze.

The guy.

He’s sitting there.

At your table.

The seat across from yours.

You force yourself to move. He looks up as you draw near and offers you a small, welcoming smile. And you’d thought he couldn’t get any cuter. You sit as the waitress stops by to drop off his coffee and a fresh tea for you. She winks at you as she walks away.

“I hope you don’t mind; I hear you like the blueberry.” He smiles again and wow. It’s incredible. He extends his hand. “My listener, I presume?”

“You caught me,” you laugh awkwardly, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry if it was weird of me. You just seem so… interesting.”

There’s no way he doesn’t see your blush this time. The corner of his mouth quirks back up. Then he just takes a sip of his coffee and starts talking. You don’t even need to put your headphones on, because this time, he’s talking to you.

•

You both stay longer than usual. Two more rounds of drinks and a couple shared pastries later, you learn that he’s a musician and trying to write a connected story within an album, something he’s never done on his own before. He also, ears reddening, admits to not realizing he talks quite so much while he’s working. He answers your questions, even asks for your feedback and compliments you on your insights. You’ve always loved watching people talk about their passions, and today is no different. He lights up when he talks, practically glowing. If you thought his first smile was nice, then this full, joyful smile is fantastic. And when he laughs? It makes your heart flutter. He’s beautiful.

All too soon, he says that he needs to head out to his next schedule. You finally notice the time, and while you know you should leave, too, you’re sad that this is over. “Same time on Thursday?” you ask meekly.

He smiles at you. You try not to hold your breath. “Sounds good.” He gathers the last of his things, stands to leave, and gives a small wave. “It was great talking to you, Listener.”

You almost tell him your name or ask his, but he’s already walking away.

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re nearly vibrating with excitement. How can one coffee date, if you can even call it that, get you so eager to meet with a man you barely know? Though in a way you’ve been getting to know him for a while, indirectly. Plus, music can be a very personal expression of one’s self, and that’s clearly his intention considering your first conversation. Two and a half hours before it’s time to leave, however, your light dims.

The subject line of the email reads: ‘Scheduling Conflict.’ He addresses it to ‘My Listener.” My listener. You’re beaming and feel incredibly silly about it. Your smile falls again, though, as you read the rest of the email. He lets you know that he won’t be at the cafe today, and he didn’t want you to show up and think he stood you up. He thinks that he’ll be able to meet you tomorrow, but will let you know if things change. Things at work are picking up for him, it seems. You try not to be too disappointed and resolve to be much more chill about the situation tomorrow; it’s literally just coffee with an attractive man who seems very intelligent and kind. Right.

So with take two on Friday, you stay busy and try not to think too much about him. Still, you can’t help being excited; you practically bounce into the cafe. He’s not here yet, but he didn’t email today, so you’re optimistic. Despite already brimming with nervous energy, you decide to have a latte today. You settle in with it at your table when the bell on the door rings. He’s sporting a black bucket hat today; it’s a great look.

“Coffee today, huh?” He takes his mask off as he sits, offering that brilliant smile. “What’s your order?”

“Oh, it’s a blonde, breve vanilla latte,” you smile back but notice that he doesn’t have his customary bag of writing materials. Your smile fades a little.

He grimaces a bit. “Sounds too sweet and milky.” He signals to the waitress and she brings him his customary americano without him even needing to order it. “So there’s been a little change in plan again today. I can’t stay too long, but I didn’t want to cancel on you again.”

It’s sweet that he made time for you, but you are disappointed. You remember overhearing him saying he’d be on the road next week, so who knows how long it'll be before you might see him again. If you’ll see him again at all. But you said you’d be chill today, so chill you will be! You talk more about the concept of his album, asking and answering questions and offering suggestions and compliments. All too soon, your cups are empty.

He checks his phone and gives a wry smile. “I need to head out… See you around.” As he stands and moves to leave, he looks back at you thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t be interested in getting a drink with me tonight, would you?”

You hope your smile isn’t too wide. “I’d love to, do you have somewhere in mind?”

He jots down an address and his number on the back of his receipt. “Great. I’ll see you at 9? Just call me when you get there, I’ll meet you out front.” He gives you one last smile before he puts on his mask and heads for the door. Across the bottom of the slip, he’d also written his name. Seungmin.

•

You consider trying to look him up before your date. It is a date this time for sure, right? You hadn’t told any friends about him yet, ‘cause you still felt a little like a stalker, but you need help. When Hana arrives at your apartment, you immediately spill the entire story.

“You never took any pictures of him?” She laughs. “What kind of third-rate stalker are you?”

“Hey! I tried my best not to be creepy… or any creepier than I was already being.” You get out two tops and a dress. “Okay, so I don’t wanna seem like I’m trying too hard, but I wanna look good. What do you think?”

She considers your options. “I’d go with the lilac. It gives you a decent amount of cleavage without being too slutty. What bottoms are you thinking?”

You pull out a pair of dark wash jeggings and black wide-legged pants. “Is it too much flowy or do the black ones work?” Ultimately you decide on the jeggings - as Hana said, they do much more for your ass. She consults on your hairstyle and make-up choices, and by the time you’re ready, your nerves have skyrocketed. “Am I crazy for doing this? Like he seems really nice, but I don’t know anything about him. And he seems young.”

“Oh, you stop that!” Hana rolls her eyes at you. “It’s been forever since you went out with someone. And so what if he’s a little young! Might be a good change of pace; he’ll have lots of energy.” She winks at you and laughs. She might be right. You hope so. Then, just like that, it’s time to head out. As you part ways, Hana offers a few last words of encouragement, “You’ll be fine! Just relax and have fun. If it sucks, it sucks, and you never have to see him again. But if it’s great, it might be the start of a fun adventure!”

You’re nearly to the bar, so you pull up his contact. Seungmin. Not for the first time, you wish he’d given you his last name as well. You might’ve been able to cyber-stalk him as well.

He answers on the second ring. He tells you he’ll be out front, and as you near the bar, you see him step out onto the sidewalk. He asks if you’re close, and you speed up a little. You tell him you are, then hang up; he looks down at his phone, head cocked to the side, clearly confused. You tap him on the shoulder and watch as his expression changes. Even with his mask on, you can tell when his smile lands. You meet it with one of your own.

“Shall we?” Seungmin offers his arm like a gentleman leading a lady out onto the ballroom floor. Once inside, you follow him past the bar and out the back door into an alley. Before you can question him, he points over to the right. A couple meters away, you spot a black door sporting red flourishes. He knocks out a slightly complicated rhythm, and one of the red designs opens to reveal a pair of eyes.

It’s a speakeasy. He brought you to a speakeasy. You didn’t even know that they had speakeasies anymore, though you suppose that’s the point. How does he know about it? He gives the password - flufflebuzz - and you make your way inside. It’s as you’d expect, a bit dark with a masculine, leather-based design scheme. There are small groups gathered around cocktail tables or in the booths lining the walls. Light jazz music floats through the space, covering conversations but not loud enough to make it difficult to have one.

Seungmin leads you to a booth in the back, saluting the bartender on his way. Once you’re settled, he takes off his mask and lets out a little sigh. “I hope this is alright; I know it’s a little different.”

You realize that he’s nervous, which calms you down a little bit. “This is so cool,” you smile at him, gesturing to the bar. “I’ve never been anywhere like this! How did you find it?”

“Oh, some people I work with introduced me to it,” he blushes as he tells you. Another little mystery. “Most people in here work in my industry.” As you turn to take a look around, the waitress arrives with two drinks in hand. They’re yellowish with a creamy foam on top. Seungmin thanks her before you can say that you haven’t ordered yet. “It’s a tradition here, your first drink is up to the bartender, but if you don’t like it, don’t feel like you have to drink it.”

“Well, that’s fun!” You give the drink a sniff. It smells fruity, though you expected that. You can’t figure out what its base is, though. You dip your pinky in a little bit. If Seungmin notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Your nail color doesn’t change, so you know it’s safe to drink. You pick up your glass and Seungmin clinks his to yours. You take a tentative sip. It’s good, a mix of sweet and sour. Seungmin makes a face, though. You laugh. “Not quite your style?”

“And he knows that,” Seungmin smiles at you before catching the bartender’s eye and flipping him off. They both laugh, and the bartender heads over, beer in hand.

“Not about the passionfruit?” The bartender slides the fresh drink in front of him. Seungmin just narrows his eyes at him. “I know, too sweet. I had to try, though. Now we’re being rude. Don’t wanna scare off your friend here. I suppose you’re really not a fan, huh?” He directs the question to you.

“Oh no, I love passionfruit. I think this is great.” You give him a polite smile, but they share an odd look and laugh.

The bartender picks up Seungmin’s discarded drink and takes a sip. “Happy to hear it. Could be good for you, Min. You guys have a good night.” With that, he gives a quick wink and walks off, joining another table rather than going back behind the bar where you see another bartender has materialized. You’re more than a little confused.

“I’m sorry about that. Chan Hyung is…” Seungmin looks thoughtfully in the direction Chan went. “A little over-protective. He just wanted to see that you weren’t… That you seemed alright. Sorry, I know that’s vague.”

“It’s fine,” you offer. Though you are still a little lost, you can understand looking out for a friend. “So is he not actually a bartender, or…?”

Seungmin laughs again. Now that you’re alone, you’re able to appreciate the sound of it a bit more. “No, not really. We’re just friends with him, and every now and then Chan likes to try his hand at making drinks somewhere that has a greater variety of ingredients. It’s for the best that they let him; the kitchen would be even more of a mess if he got stuff to make drinks at home. Anyway, enough about him, I wanna learn more about you.”

You blush a little at that and start answering the usual ‘get to know you’ type questions. You try to turn them back to him, but he deflects or quickly asks you follow-ups most of the time. He remains a bit of a mystery. You learn that he works with Chan, but doesn’t live with him - he has other roommates over at the other table, though; he has an older sister, which prompts a question that he answers easily for once.

“I’m 23,” he looks down at his drink, and you can just barely see his ears reddening in the dim light. “Not too young, I hope?” Though you haven’t explicitly told him your age, he clearly recognizes that you’re older than him. Despite not getting too many personal details, you are really starting to like him. And you’re pretty sure that confirms that he likes you, too.

“Not too young at all,” you smile. When your phone buzzes for the fourth time, he tells you to check it and heads for the restroom, stopping at Chan’s table on his way. He almost immediately erupts in the most endearing laugh with the lot of them. He looks so at ease with his friends, making you realize that he has seemed a bit nervous with you.

You look down at your phone to see multiple texts from Hana asking how it’s going, where you are, if you need rescuing. You let her know that you’re fine, having fun, and that you were right about him being younger. She immediately responds, asking if you’re planning on “closing the deal tonight then?” with a wink. At that, you put your phone away and look up to see that Seungmin's on his way back. The rest of the date goes on smoothly, moving from personal details to passions and interests; Seungmin answers a bit more freely now, his face lighting up the way it did in the cafe.

Before you know it, a waitress stops by to let you know it’s nearly time for last call. You’re both a bit surprised. “Wow, it’s gotten late fast,” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck, looking down and biting that perfect lower lip. Hana’s question earlier pops into your mind and now you’re blushing, too. “Would it be too corny if I said I didn’t want the night to end?”

It’s a wonder you can suppress the gigantic smile you know is trying to burst out. “Not at all, I’m having a great time, too.” You consider the table of his friends and roommates over at the other table. Seungmin probably won’t want to ask you to go back to him apparent with so many others potentially being there. You hope you sound casual. “We could always go somewhere else for a bit. Take a walk or have a nightcap at my place or something.”

His eyes meet yours again as he nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

•

The walk back to your apartment is a little quieter than you expected. The closer you get, the more nerves build up. After a few minutes, his hand brushes yours a couple times before he interlocks his fingers with yours. You don’t try too hard to suppress your smile when you see his. As you enter, you gesture to the couch then you head toward the kitchen, running through the rest of the place in your mind, trying to remember if you may have left anything embarrassing out. “What can I get you? Another beer?”

“Actually, I was thinking it might be time to switch to coffee if you have any,” he ventures; he follows you to the kitchen and clearly notices your lack of coffee machine.

You grimace slightly. “I know it’s not very good, but I think I have some leftover instant?” His face tells you that it sounds as bad as you feared it might. “Sorry, I’m more of a tea drinker.”

“Blueberry?” He jokes, or at least you think it’s a joke. He’s lost some of the joviality he had at the bar, becoming a little harder to read. “I like to have tea now and then. Could I have something black?”

He agrees to try some lady grey and asks to look around while you put the kettle on. By the time you come out with your mugs, he’s sitting on the couch. He looks much more uncomfortable now. You don’t know if you should be offering to turn on the TV or some music; it’s been so long since you’ve had a date over. What will make things less awkward?

Luckily he saves you from having to decide; he asks if he can show you a music video. You pull up youtube on your TV and hand him the remote. The video he pulls up is titled ‘Stray Kids "특(S-Class)" M/V’ and asks, “I’m guessing you’ve never heard of them?” When you shake your head no, he turns to face you more fully. “How do you feel about how tonight went? Would you be interested in seeing me again?”

This feels abrupt, and he still looks so nervous. You give him a smile. “Tonight has been wonderful, and I’d love to go out again.” You expect him to relax a little, but if anything he tenses up a bit more.

“Me too. I just… need to tell you something first.” Instead of saying whatever it is, he hits play on the video. You consider his profile, as he’s actively not looking at you. Your head snaps to the TV when the voice starts singing. You suppose if it’s this important to him, you might as well watch. For a second you think you recognize the guys in the group, but you’re not sure why. Around 30 seconds in, you know that you’re looking at Seungmin’s friend Chan on the screen. You shoot him a questioning look, but he’s still focused on the video. About 10 more seconds and you understand why he’s so nervous. Your jaw drops. This time when you look at him, he pauses the video.

He’s still not looking at you when he speaks, suddenly very interested in his tea. “I would really like to see you again. To get to know you better.” He glances up at you, finally, then nods back at the TV. “But it can be really hard to do that when that’s your job.”

You really don’t know what to say. The best you can come up with is, “You sing so well.” Your stupidity breaks the tension a bit; he laughs then you do. “Sorry, I don’t know what to think right now. I know you said you like K-pop at the bar, I just didn’t realize that you, like, are K-pop. Wow. That’s really awesome.”

He laughs again. “Well, that’s one way to put it. I know I just kinda dropped a bomb on you. I can go so you can have time to think about it.”

Your “no” probably comes a little too quickly. “You haven’t finished your tea... Plus, I don’t want you to leave. I’m not sure I even know what to consider about it.”

He gives you a small smile before taking a sip from his mug. “Well, there are a few things to think about. I’m not allowed to date publicly. So if we continued to see each other, it would have to be a secret. And I travel a lot. I’m usually a lot busier; these last few weeks we’ve been on a short break. It would be hard to see each other too often.”

It does sound difficult. Maybe too difficult to consider with someone you just met. But you haven’t connected with someone like this in a long time. He seems like a great guy, he wants to keep seeing you, and he’s so, so handsome. His gaze is on his hands, giving you the opportunity to study his face without feeling self conscious. As your eyes trace his features, you imagine never getting to listen to him write music again, never getting to watch his face light up as he answers one of your questions about it, never hearing him laugh again. As he pulls that beautiful bottom lip between his teeth and raises his head to meet your eyes again, you know what you want. In the morning, this will probably all seem a bit crazier, but for now… you place your hand on his. You lean in and gently press a kiss to his lips.

You pull back and look into his eyes. Time stops for just a moment as you look at each other. You can see the desire in his stare; it matches your own. Then his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you again. His calluses surprise you - you can feel the roughness of them as one hand trails its way down your body and the other snakes back to grip your neck. As his tongue brushes your lip, your mouth opens a bit more in invitation; he accepts, deepening the kiss, his tongue mingling with yours. His hands trace your curves before pulling you closer and you wrap your arms around him. Each movement is insistent, bordering on frantic, as if you can’t get enough of each other. You want to dive into him. He clearly feels the same.

One moment he’s gripping your thigh and the next you’re straddling him, grinding against his growing erection, while his fingers dig into your ass. You pull back and look at him. You’re both breathing heavily. His hands are on your hips now, thumbs rubbing small circles. Your hands are on his shoulders, coasting down to rest on his biceps.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to -” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you smile at him. “Plus, I did kiss you first.”

“I meant to give you more time to think about all this.” He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You give him another quick kiss. “I don’t think I will, regardless of where we go from here. And I do want to see you again. I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. So for now, do you think we can just see how this goes?”

He considers you for a moment, those dark eyes boring into yours. He looks so serious, you can’t guess what he’s thinking. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You give him a smile of your own and lean in for another kiss. You sigh into his mouth as his hands slide under your shirt. Your hands find their way into his hair as he grips your waist tightly before pushing your shirt up. You break the kiss to let him take it off, and he shakes his head again before cocking it to the right as he studies you.The look he’s giving you makes you think of a puppy. It’s so adorable and somehow only adds to his sexiness. “You’re really beautiful, noona.” He gives your waist another squeeze as he says it, but his grin starts to falter. “Are you sure about this?”

Your face heats a little at the honorific. Your gaze wanders from his face, down to your seat on his lap, and back up. You roll your hips, savoring the feel of his hard length beneath you. “I’m sure.”

With a small groan, he shocks you by standing up and guiding you to wrap your legs around his thin waist. Your apartment isn’t huge, and he already took a look around, so he knows just where to go. In seconds, you’re on your bed with his weight on top of you. He grinds his hips into yours as he takes your mouth again.

In a flurry of lips and tongues and teeth, you pull at his shirt, needing to touch his skin. He pulls back long enough to pull it over his head, then his lips find your neck while your hands explore his bare back. You should worry about getting a hickey, but all you can think of is how each suck and bite at your neck sends a burst of fire through your body.

A thought strikes you, “I’m - ah - I’m, I’m clean, by the way.”

Seungmin grins, relishing the fact that he’s made it difficult for you to utter a simple sentence. “I am, too.” With that, his lips move south, nipping at the tops of your breasts before he pulls one of the cups down, locking his mouth onto your nipple. He sucks, tongue flicking and circling, while his hands make their way underneath you in an attempt to remove your bra. You arch into his touch, giving him room to work. Once your bra is off, he moves immediately to work on your leggings.

Just like that, you’re fully bared to him, and he finally slows down. He’s kneeling between your legs, just taking you in. You take the opportunity to study him a bit as well. He’s obviously got some muscle, but he’s not built - it fits him. His shoulders are broad, kind of like a swimmer’s. Your gaze drifts down to the considerable bulge in his pants, and you really can’t wait to see the rest of him. Before you can sit up to continue undressing him, he’s back on you. He kisses his way from your lips to your chest, down your stomach, all the while murmuring how beautiful you look, how sexy you are. He nibbles at your inner thigh, eyes on yours.

“Is this okay?” At this point, it feels a little like a silly question, but those puppy dog eyes are back, so you can’t tease him about it.

“Yes, are you–”

Yes was all he needed to hear. The eager thing dives right in, lapping at your clit with a flat tongue before swirling it in circles. He’s barely begun and you’re already starting to squirm, his strong grip on your thighs heightening the experience. You can’t help but let out a small moan. Your hands move into his hair of their own accord. As he laps at your core, pushing you towards your release, your grip tightens.

He pulls back, and you suppress a whimper. He licks his lips and gives you a heart-melting smile. “Does hair pulling mean I’m doing well or do I need to change tactics?” His thumb makes its way to your clit, doing lazy circles as he asks.

It takes you two tries to answer. “Ye-yes, hair pulling means it’s good. Do you mind it?”

His grin widens. “Pull away.” He’s sucking and licking now, driving you wild. You have fistfuls of his hair and, despite his permission, are fighting not to pull. Then he inserts a finger into you, another quickly follows. Your grip tightens again, you let out a gasp, and you can feel his smile. His fingers are curling, massaging into just the right spot as he sucks at your clit again. When you thrust up to meet his mouth, his other arm shifts across your hips and pushes them back down. Your head spins as he adds a third finger. He’s not letting up, pushing you into the stratosphere. An endless stream of moans and gasps spill from your lips and a tear trickles down the side of your face.

“Oh.. Min,” you cry as you come. He slows but doesn’t stop as your body tenses and shakes, clenching around his fingers. As the trembling subsides, he withdraws his fingers and climbs his way back up your body, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses. He licks his lips again, then wipes his dripping chin before licking his fingers.

“You taste good.” And you can taste yourself as his lips find yours again. “I like when you call me Min.”

“Please,” your hand finds his bulge, pulling at him while the other starts to pull at his waistband. You’re not usually so needy, but your orgasm has only made you want him more. “Please, I need you inside me.”

His eyes darken at that. You almost wonder if you might’ve put him off with your begging as he pushes up off the bed. He keeps his eyes on yours for a moment then starts unbuttoning his pants. “Say it again.”

“Please,” you sit up to take over, freeing his length with a tiny gasp. You could tell he was big before, but seeing it is another story. An ache pulses in your core at the thought of him filling you up. “I need you, Min.”

There’s been a shift in him. He’s not moving as frantically, the look on his face is devastating - so serious, his eyes full of pure desire. He slowly positions himself back between your legs, a hand on your chest, slowly pushing you down onto your back again. He drags the head of his cock through your folds before rubbing it on your clit then settling it back at your entrance. He leans down, one hand posted next to your head, while the other holds himself steady, and his lips caress yours. He pulls back slightly, forehead on yours, gaze boring into you.

You know what he wants. “Fuck me, Seungmin, please.”

His eyes are still locked on yours as his body shifts, pushing into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Your breath hitches and a soft moan escapes your lips. That flips his switch. His lips move roughly against yours as he starts to thrust. He quickly falls into a rhythm, and now it’s his hand fisting into your hair. You break the kiss so that you can suck at his neck. He sighs, but backs out of your reach. “I can’t, ah, I can’t have any visible marks.” You pull his mouth back to yours, your other hand grasping at his back. Seungmin slips a hand between you, his thumb finding your clit, and you feel yourself winding up again. As you meet each of his thrusts, you can’t control the mewling gasps coming out of your mouth. Soon you’re moaning his name again, and he’s breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. His movements become more erratic as you both approach your limits. You squeeze around him as you come again, and it sets him off at a faster pace.

“I’m going to, ah, I’m going to come,” he groans. “What do I, ah, where do I…” he straightens as he pulls out and you scramble to sit up and grab at him. He lets you take over pumping him while you quickly resituate yourself. You get your mouth around him and can barely move before his hand is back in your hair, and the other grips your shoulder tightly. You can tell he’s holding back to let you stay in control as you try to swallow him down without gagging (too much). Your name falls from his lips as he finishes; his hold on you loosens, and you both relax back. His hands move to cup your face gently, brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed escaping. “Are you alright?”

You smile up at him, resting your hands on his thighs. “I’m fine. More than fine. You’re just a little big.”

He chuckles before ghosting a kiss over your lips. “As long as I didn’t hurt you.” He lays down then, pulling you with him. With your head on his chest, his hand tracing circles on your back, you start to drift off.

•

[queen-of-deans-booty]

FFF

Pairing: Castiel x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k (lyrics included)

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Sam and Dean introduce you to their angelic friend, Castiel, and you are immediately enthralled by him. Instead of jumping into something with him, you two take it slow and let the relationship flourish naturally.

Square Filled: FFF by Zara Larsson (2023) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Hunting is something you try to stay out of. It’s not that you don’t think you have the chops to be a hunter, you just don’t want to be one. You’ve never seen the appeal of being one but you admire Sam and Dean for being one. You met them while they were on a hunt. A ghost murdered your coworker and they interviewed you. They seemed like genuine FBI agents until you saw them leave your coworker’s house covered in blood.

You kept in touch with them over the years and now you’re good friends with them.

They invited you to the Bunker to hang out so that’s where you’re heading. You’re in town for something unrelated so it’s nice to see the brothers. You don’t visit the Bunker often so you jump at the chance to when they want you to come. 

Despite their lifestyle, the Bunker is one of the coolest things you’ve ever seen.

When you get there, you knock on the metal door twice. Sam opens it and smiles widely when he sees you.

“Y/N! Welcome!” He pulls you in for a soul-crushing hug. “We just got started.”

“Cool. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Oh, yeah. Hey, we invited one of our other friends. His name is Cas. He’s an angel.”

“A what?” you ask, flabbergasted. 

As much as you try to stay out of their business, you can’t help but read about the different types of monsters they deal with. Still, you’d never thought angels were real. Maybe in fiction but never in real life.

“An angel,” Sam chuckles.

“Okay.”

You walk down the metal stairs and greet Dean who has a beer in hand.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N.”

“You, too. So, where is this elusive angel that I never knew existed?”

“Right here.” Dean steps off to the side and you look at the angel in a trenchcoat. “My name is Castiel but you may use the shortened version of my name that the brothers are so fond of using.”

“Right. For an angel of God, you’re… normal.”

“My true form is approximately the size of your Chrysler building.”

“Good to know,” you nod.

Not only are you starstruck by the angel, you think he’s adorable. If he’s going to be here, you’re definitely going to make an effort to visit more often.

Unusual, we got mutual friends Is it mutual if I kiss your lips? If I'm truthful, then it all depends on your feelings Crucial, how I'm leanin' in 'Cause I'm used to just divin' in I could lose you, that's the consequence of my feelings

Sam and Dean are currently on a hunt hallways across the country where there isn’t great internet service. They don’t know what they’re hunting so they asked you if you could do some research from the Bunker. You’re no hunter but you don’t mind helping them like this. You’re out of danger and safe inside the most secure place in the world against monsters.

Plus, Castiel is here, too. That’s always a plus.

It’s been a few months since you two met and you’ve been coming over every chance you get just to be with him.

Just so you’re not sitting in silence, you hooked up your Bluetooth speaker to your phone so that you can listen to music while you read through the many lore books. You and Castiel are sitting right next to each other; he’s so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him. It’s nearing winter so it’s getting colder outside, but Castiel is a radiator.

“Did you find anything?” you ask him.

“Not yet. Did you?”

“Nope.”

You flip through the book, half-paying attention to the word and half-paying attention to how close Castiel is. The song changes to a romantic tune, and you look up at Castiel who is already staring at you. You briefly look at his chapped lips that also somehow look soft, and you find yourself leaning in.

No! You stop yourself from potentially making a mistake. You’re known to jump into relationships and stay in the fast lane. It’s why you’ve never had a steady relationship with any of your exes. Castiel deserves better. He deserves more. You really like him and you can’t afford to lose him so you can’t be yourself.

You need to change and it starts with him.

Is there a spark for us Or is it just purely platonic? Is this a story arc? 'Cause if it are, it'd be iconic I wasn't gonna ask Afraid of asking you to dance

The best thing about winter is the frozen lakes. You love ice skating but you’re not very good at it. Growing up, you lived in a warmer climate that didn’t get cold enough for any water to freeze, so you took to the activity later in life.

You and Castiel have been hanging out more and more without Sam and Dean around. He might be an angel that will outlive you, but you’re falling for him every day that you’re with him. There’s something so pure about him. He hasn’t been tainted by humanity long enough to see the bad in life. He still believes that people do good simply because it’s right. It’s honestly refreshing to be around someone who still thinks that way.

“Have you ever ice skated?” you ask as you pull your skates on.

“No. I’m sure I can pick it up.”

“Yeah, just wait until you get on the ice.” You step onto the frozen lake and almost fall from being unbalanced. Castiel jumps up and grabs your waist to steady you, and you try to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. “Thanks.”

“Please be careful.”

Castiel steps onto the ice and skates as if he’s a professional. You watch him with a parted mouth.

“How in the hell are you doing that?”

“It’s simply a balancing act.”

“Right.”

You skate but find that your feet move apart when you do. You struggle to stay upright, and Castiel stays near you to catch you if you fall. Most people wouldn’t find this enjoyable but you’re with Castiel so it makes it better. Plus, if you fall, you know he’ll catch you.

“Here, grab my hand.”

You bite back a smile and grab his warm hand. He skates next to you effortlessly, and you cling to his side to keep some sort of balance.

“Do you normally excel at things you’ve never done before?”

“Generally, yes.”

You laugh and continue to skate with him in the freezing cold. You try to turn but end up tripping over your own feet and crashing into Castiel. He is taken off guard so he falls to the ice with you on top of him. Suddenly, you start laughing either out of embarrassment or at the thought of why you decided to do this with him when you know you’re shit at it.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No.”

You put your hand on his chest to hold yourself up, and you suddenly realize how close you two are. Your breath mixes with his in the cold, but neither of you moves from each other. You’re so close that you can close the few-inch gap and kiss him.

“Your nose and cheeks are red,” he says.

“It’s cold outside. Aren’t you cold?”

“I’m an angel. I don’t feel the cold.”

“Lucky you, then.”

Castiel moves you off him with ease and helps you stand. He brings you back to the snow where you can stand comfortably and removes his trenchcoat. Without saying anything, he wraps the coat around you, enveloping you in his warmth.

The blush on your cheeks isn’t from the cold anymore.

Falling for a friend Falling for a friend, ooh Baby, don't pretend That you don't feel it too I know you do

Castiel is truly someone special because you’re walking from your hotel in the freezing ass cold and the snow to get to the Bunker. You have a rental car but there is no use in driving it because the roads aren’t safe for cars. Still, that’s not going to stop you from getting to the bunker where Castiel is.

The picnic basket in your hand is sealed tightly to keep the snow from entering it but everything else on you is covered with snow. Kansas winters are brutal. Three miles normally doesn’t seem like a lot but trekking in twelve inches of snow makes three miles feel like thirty.

When you get to the Bunker, you shake off the snow as best as possible before knocking on the metal door. Pain erupts from your knuckles from how cold you are but your hand is numb so you don’t feel it as much as you should have.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Dean asks when he opens the door.

“I wanted to say hi. Can I come in?”

“Shit, yeah.” He steps to the side and allows you to walk inside. You’re thrust into a warm environment that you’re already starting to defrost. You walk into the library to see Castiel sitting at the table. “What’s in the basket?”

“Just some food. I figure you two are hungry.”

“I don’t eat.”

“I always am,” Dean says at the same time as Castiel.

“Okay, well, here.”

Dean takes the basket with a smile and disappears into the kitchen. Castiel frowns when he sees you shivering from the after-effects of the cold. He can even feel how cold you are from where you stand.

“Come here.” You walk over to Castiel, not expecting him to pull you into his lap. He lifts your hands to his mouth and blows hot air on them, the warmth of it kissing away the numbing from the frostbite. “Baby, you’re freezing.”

Baby? His raspy voice? That’s enough to spring butterflies to life in your stomach. He’s never called you that before. The butterflies intensify when he opens his trenchcoat, wrapping you close to his chest. He leans down and kisses your cold cheek, and warmth blooms from the contact.

You look up at him and he softly traces your bottom lip with his finger, and you part your lips instinctively.

“I really want to kiss you,” he whispers.

You don’t say anything back, You close the gap between you and kiss him softly. His lips may look chapped but they are super soft. His grace dances across your body, warming you up.

You’ve definitely fallen for a friend.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[maxlarens]

oscar and 31?

31) doing a pinky swear

random but i listened to this and this dj set while writing this

It’s difficult to resist the lure of the music, the dance floor that churns and pulses at your back. The DJ cycles through euro-pop, 2000s anthems and countless club classics that make you itch to get up and dance, something tugging in your gut when you don't.

Max and Lando have already gone into the thick of it, leaving you and Oscar at the booth. And you've decided that you're not leaving Oscar. If he's not getting on the dance floor then you aren't either. Even if your leg is about to fall off from how much you've been tapping it to the beat and you keep tipping your head back to say oh, dude, I love this song.

He'd made some offhand comment the other day, when you and Lando first made these plans, something about how he was boring, of all things. How he wouldn't be any fun at a club. It's been eating at you since. The way he'd said it, not like it was something he came to on his own, but rather, like it was something someone had told him.

The absolute last thing Oscar Piastri is is boring.

You hate that he thinks he is, you hate that he thinks he needs to be a certain way to make you happy. To make anyone happy. And you certainly don't care if he doesn't want to dance at a club— no one's going to die if he doesn't, and you'll survive a few hours in the booth until Max tires of Lando and his boundless energy.

Across from you, Oscar's taking sips of his vodka pineapple. His pale cheeks have been steadily turning more red the more alcohol that he drinks, it's cute. You're turning your drink in circles, watching it leave condensation rings on the linoleum table. The DJ is playing a remix of Murder on the Dancefloor and you're about to tip your head back and groan oh my god I love this song,

but Oscar is laughing before the words can even leave your mouth.

"You love this song too?", he raises his very nice eyebrows at you, smiling that closed mouth polite cat smile everyone likes so much.

You sigh, laugh, then roll your eyes at yourself, "Yeah. Love it."

He smiles into his drink, it turns into something a little bittersweet after a moment of you watching him. You think of the sad way he'd twitched his nose the other day, while he was telling you he was boring. Without thinking, spurred on by the alcohol, you lean across the table and swat his hand with yours. But you don't move after, you just slip your fingers into the grooves of his knuckles.

"What are you thinking?"

He bites the inside of his bottom lip, shrugs, "Nothing important."

You're not convinced.

"Is this about you thinking you're boring, Oscar?" —he raises an eyebrow at you, one that says maybe, one that says go on— "Because you are not fucking boring, Piastri."

He laughs, but its critical, disbelieving. More of a scoff than a laugh, but he doesn't want you to catch on. He's trying to act like it's all fine. That's how he is— it's fine it's fine he says and he doesn't let anyone see that things hurt him. He's so good, so nice, so unwilling to make anyone else feel bad.

Positive, optimistic to a fault.

"You're not," you insist, pressing your fingertips into his knuckles.

He shrugs again, "I'm keeping you here. I know you want to go dance. You should go.”

You’re shaking your head before he can finish, “Oscar. Please, I will live. Anyway, sometimes I want to spend time with you without Lando hanging around, y’know.”

Oscar snorts, sincerely this time, “Yeah, he’s—”

“Annoying,” you supply.

“I was going to say a pain.”

“Same thing.”

“Mm,” Oscar snickers, “S’pose so.”

Then,

“Are you sure you want to stay here with me?”

You slide your fingers down to his wrist, gently turning his arm around so it faces upward. His skin is smooth where you trace the lines in his palm. You're both quiet, looking down at your hands where they're intertwined. If you're honest, you've kind of forgotten why you did that— your thoughts feel loose, a bit disconnected. Oscar is warm and sweet and here. You just wanted to touch his hand you think. You trace a line up his ring finger without thinking.

"I'm sure," you say, a little breathless for no good reason.

"Promise."

"Huh?", you drift your gaze up to his.

Polite cat smile, he repeats, "Promise?", it's more of a question now.

You nod seriously, curling your fingers into a fist and sticking your pinky finger out, "I pinky promise, Oscar."

He does the same, lifting his hand up in offering. Your pinkies lock together, he squeezes tightly and you pull against him, like the tighter the promise is the more that you mean it.

[harrysgal]

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (2)

harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU

I know I’m just starting and don’t actually have much experience with this, but I’m actually having a lot of fun doing it and already can’t wait to post more.

About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.

Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.

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PART 1 — MEET YN / MASTERLIST

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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 2) — LAS VEGAS

liked by bestfriend, yourmom, mollyjane_x and 22,108 others 

yourinstagram HELLOOOOOOO FABULOUS LAS VEGAS NEVADA 

view all 3,045 comments

user1 soooo… a new full time job that took you to las vegas? 👀 yourbrother Please behave  bestfriend don’t get (too) drunk without me pls harryfan STOP FIRST LOT SHOW IT’S IN VEGAS 

↳ harryfan2 She’s going to the show right???? I mean it can’t be just a coincidence anymore IT JUST CAN’T ↳ harryfan NO I KNOW THIS IS IT I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES

Aug 26, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, cuteguy, mollyjane_x and 22,451 others 

yourinstagram you’d think a lady in vegas would be out there getting wild but this one actually has been locked in her hotel room for the last 27 hours overthinking her ideas and freaking out about this new job lol if any of you could send me a pizza or something id appreciate it. thanks. 

view all 3,111 comments

user1 nooooo you’re so talented whatever it is i know you can do it!! bestfriend yn ✋🏻  cuteguy Should I give you a call? 😊 harryfan17 I would too be freaking out if I had to work for THE harry styles lol

↳ harryfan16 we still don’t know if she is tho  ↳ harryfan17 C’mon she’s in vegas and molly and jeff are following her ↳ harryfan16 still 🤷🏻‍♀️ tour doesn’t start for another few days so this could be just about something else  ↳ harryfan16 also maybe she’s there because she wants to be and not bc she’s “working” for him. she’s done videos about several artists and she isn’t working for any of them is she?  ↳ harryfan17 Well yes but she literally just said she was starting a new job so 🤷‍♀️ ↳ harryfan16 so everyone just assumed HARRY, out of all people, hired her? c’mon guys lol she could be working for just anyone and STILL go to a show. one doesn’t have to be related to the other.

Aug 28, 2021 •

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liked by anthonypham, bestfriend, lookitsnyoh and 25,103 others 

yourinstagram fun fact: if you post something on the internet people around you might see it 🫠

guess im lucky this lovely group who still don’t know me at all cared enough to drag me out of my room and show me around the city. sometimes i get so caught up inside my mind that i forget how important human connection is — which is funny if you think most of my videos are exactly about that lol. so plssssss make sure to surround yourself with (nice) people. also get some sleep, drink water and feed yourself. it’ll do wonderful things for you!!!

anyway my mom was worried about my “not leaving the room post” so this is just me saying everythings good!! (i also already called her of course <3)

view all 3,557 comments

bestfriend LOVE YOU harryfan the new followers the new likes 😭 it’s happening i knew it  user1 so true bestie!! this reminded me of your 2nd video i think

↳ yourinstagram omg yesssss!!  ↳ user1 ahh i missed your interactions <3  ↳ yourinstagram i knowww! promise i’ll try my best to keep interacting even if it’s not as much as before 💗

lookitsnyoh my belly still hurts from all the laughing 

↳ yourinstagram and my mind is still rushing from all the talking ↳ anthonypham go to sleep you two 

harryfan9 I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT OMFG I’M SO HERE FOR IT

Aug 29, 2021 •

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liked by anthonypham, mollyjane_x, bestfriend and 27,257 others 

yourinstagram sightseeing left me speechless. but here’s a picture from tonight. 

view all 4,107 comments

user1 omg you’re feeding us this week! i’m so happy you’re being active again <3 harryfan78 POST A PICTURE OF YOURSELF I WANT TO MEET YOU AT THE SHOW BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE 

↳ user4 calm down pls? we like to behave as respectful human beings on this profile

bestfriend ❤️❤️❤️ bestfriend i’m losing my mind but i’m also so excited and proud! user7 I miss your videos :( lookitsnyoh when was this? where was I? bummed that I missed it!

↳ yourinstagram sorryyy just a last minute decision after dinner :( ↳ lookitsnyoh ohhhh makes sense now! Glad it left you speechless ↳ yourinstagram i mean the city is beautiful  ↳ lookitsnyoh sure thing it is 👽

Sep 1, 2021 •

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liked by harryfan, harryfan2 and 15,157 others 

fanwhometharry GUYS I JUST MET HARRY I’M SHAKKNG I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE NOW 

view all 2,107 comments

harryfan64 omg where did you meet him??

↳ fanwhometharry AT THE BELLAGIO  ↳ harryfan64 is he staying there???  ↳ fanwhometharry NO!! I MEAN IDK?? I DONT RHINK SO I JUST MET HIM OUTSIDE AT THE FOUNTAINS  ↳ harryfan74 hmm not tryin to be rude or something but that sounds like a weird place for him to be tbh ↳ fanwhometharry I FUCKKNG KNOW THAT?? I MEAN MY PARENTS WANTED TO SEE THE WATER SHOW SO I TAGGED ALONG BUT NEVER EVER THOUGHT ID BUMP INTO HIM THERE

harryfan62 you’re so lucky!! was he alone???

↳ imetharry I DONT KNOW?? I DONT REMEMBER I WAS SO NERVOUS  ↳ imetharry I KNOW THERE WAS A GIRL NEARBY BC SHE HANDED HIM A PEN WHEN I COULDNT FIND MINE BUT I DONT KNOW IF SHE WAS WITH HJIM OR NOT ↳ harryfan62 who was this girl? Anyone from the LOT crew? ↳ imetharry IDK I JUST SAID I DONT EVEN KNOW IF SHE WAS WITH HIM OR NOT 😭

harryfan15 Hi hun! Don’t listen to people, they're just jealous. It was really sweet of him to sign that for you! Hope you have a great time at the show 💕

↳ imetharry THANK YOU 😭😭 HE WAS THERE JUST WATCHING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON SO I DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE A PIC IF PEOPLE DON’T BELIEVE ME THEN I DON’T CARE I KNOW IT’S REAL 😭😭

Sep 1, 2021 •

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liked by gemmastyles, anthonypham, jefezoff and 35,109 others 

yourinstagram having to keep this secret from the world was the most cruelest thing that anyone has ever done to me. but whatever… it’s fine… i’m okay… i’m just gonna pretend this wasn’t a big deal and i didn’t just watch one of my favorite artists perform my favorite songs… and then i’ll just casually say: pls stay tuned for next wednesday when my new video will be up 😇

(i’ll be back and share more details once my serotonin levels have normalized again)

view all 7,125 comments

bestfriend i love you so much thank you for representing us so well  harryfan I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT OMFG I CANT WAIT I KNEW IT harryfan2 YN KASDHUHHD PLS OMFG YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THIS AND LEAVE user1 😲 i can’t wait for this one! harrystyles soz 

↳ harryfan OMFG HARRY ↳ harryfan5 ?????????????????????????? ↳ harryfan3 AUIDHIAUSHDBAJH WTF ↳ harryfan9 ARE YOU F KIDDING ME WHATS HE DOING HERE

cuteguy Nice! Glad you’re having a good time darling. 

Sep 4, 2021 •

— — — — — 

PART 3: DENVER

— — — — — 

If you happen to read and enjoy this, pls let me know? 🙏 thanks!! it would be nice to know if this is working, or what else would people would like to see.

[wintfleur]

just a little stella and rutgar fluff please i miss them ☹️

ꔫ sugar cookies and peppermint chapstick

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X Rutger McGroarty )

°. — details ( g; so much fluff! w; kissing, I think that’s all. wc; 1.9k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes (MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY! 🎄Thank you so much for requesting this! I genuinely had so much fun writing this, definitely one of my favorite things I’ve ever written! There just so cute! I hope you enjoy it! Please don’t be a silent reader!! )

°. — I KNOW RUT IS IN SWEDEN BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THE FIC JUST PRETENDED HES NOT 🫶🏻

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!

“How are you so good at that?” Rutger asked his girlfriend as he took a break from stirring the ingredients for some more sugar cookies, letting go of the plastic spatula to stretch his sore fingers from mixing. His eyes were trained on Stella who stood at the island, leaning forward as she carefully piped icing onto the batch of sugar cookies the couple had made earlier. 

The couple were alone at her brother's lake house, her brothers, their friends and her parents all out doing last minute Christmas shopping. The house was filled with the wonderful aroma of some Christmas candles Ellen had bought and the smell of the many batches of cookies they had made. If you looked outside the windows, you would see everything was covered with snow. And the faint sound of Christmas music playing from the radio on the counter made the home feel even more lovely. 

Stella stood straight and rolled her shoulders to ease them from being hunched over for so long, setting down the white icing bag on the counter and tilting her head to smile at him “Many years of practice, me and Luke were the only ones my mom would trust with helping her” stella scooped up the small drop of icing almost dropping out of the piping bag with her finger, bringing it up to her mouth to suck it off, smiling cheekily at rutger “Quinn and jack always ate all the ingredients. 

“You mean they were the ones that would get caught” Rutger laughed as he went back to mixing the dry ingredients, after they added the wet ingredients, he would soon have to use his hands. Stella laughed and moved away from the island, her slippers shuffling against the floorboards of the kitchen as she moved to stand next to him at the counter next to the oven. She leaned against his left side, resting her chin on his shoulder after she placed a soft kiss on his gray short sleeve clad shoulder. Her eyes glanced down at his flexing forearm from mixing before looking up at him with her brown doe eyes “Exactly.”

Rutger looks away from the Christmas themed mixing bowl and to his girlfriend, he gets lost in her enchanting eyes for a few moments before he gives her a small smirk “My sneaky girl” Stella feels her cheeks instantly warm up at the way he uttered his words. He felt his smirk turn to a grin when he noticed the way her cheeks flushed, Stella bumped her hip into his before stepping back from him. She refuses to walk into his trap and decides to go back to working on the cookies, not before landing a nice slap on his ass. Giggling quietly to herself at the sound of surprise leaving his lips. 

Rutger turns his head to look back at her, ready to complain how it's not fair that she can slap his ass, but he can't slap hers, she had made it clear before they got to the lake house that they can't be as touchy at the house. Stella already had her back faced to him as she looked down at the island, picking up a tree cookie cutter and a stocking one. “Christmas trees or stockings next?” 

“Christmas trees” Rutger picked between the two, knowing that she wants to do Christmas trees next by the way she said it. Stella smiles widely at his choice and sets the tree cookie cutter to the side while she puts the stocking one back in the bag with all the other cookie cutters the family had collected over the years. She cheerfully replies “Great choice” Rutger laughs and starts adding the wet ingredients, making sure to check the laminated piece of paper that had the family sugar cookie recipe. Stella took baking very seriously. 

The couple spent the next ten minutes or so singing along to the Christmas music playing, Stella finishing decorating the cookies and Rutger finishing up mixing the last batch of cookies. While rutger washed his hands from the access cookie dough from his hands, Stella started to roll the dough flat on the marble island, struggling to roll out the dough thoroughly. Rutger dry's his hands off with a towel, it of course being Christmas themed. He moves from the sink and stops to stand behind Stella, his chest pressing against her back as he moves his arms around her to take the dowel style rolling pin from her tired hands. 

Stella smiles and leans back against her boyfriend, his body heat comforting her, feeling the vibration of him humming along to the song on her back. Stella grinned when she noticed that she didn't have to remind Rutger how thin the dough should be rolled out, he had remembered. She tilts her head to look at his side profile, his eyes focused down as his arms flexed and rolled out the dough. She placed a kiss under his jaw, the action immediately making his cheeks flush. 

“What was that for?” Rutger mumbled shyly. 

“What do I need a reason to kiss my boyfriend now?” Stella sassily answered him with a question, raising her eyebrow to emphasize her words. Rutger laughs at her sassiness and places a soft kiss on her temple “Never.” 

“Oh, I love this song!” Stella excitedly exclaimed, startling her boyfriend for a moment from the loud reaction. Rutger doesn't even have to be asked, he moves one of his arms to let her move out from between him and the island, already knowing what she wants. Stella basically skips over to the radio and turns the volume knob to the right, the song getting louder. The very familiar song “Mistletoe” by Justin Bieber fills up the kitchen.  

Rutger tore his eyes from the dough and stopped his hands, a grin on his lips as he watched Stella sway her hips and sing along to the song. She looked so pretty she was wearing green plaid pajama pants that matched with his red ones, she was wearing one of his umich sweaters that looked so big on her, and her hair was in a braid, messy from sleeping in it last night. Her face was bare, and she of course had her grinch slippers on her green sock covered feet. God he was so in love with her. 

“I love you” Rutger voiced loudly over the music, Stella stopped her swaying and turned to face a dimpled smile on her face. Stella stepped closer to him, rutger not flinching when her cold hands cupped his face, he was already used to her cold touch. They both closed their eyes when Stella leaned her face closer to his, rutger leaning down a little to capture her soft lips in a kiss. He’s welcomed by the taste of her peppermint ChapStick, and he eagerly continues the kiss, wanting to taste more. Before he could let go of the rolling pan and move his hands to hold her hips, she pulled her lips away. Rutger fluttered his eyes open, his eyes staring into hers as she whispered, her tone filled of love “I love you more.” 

“We're just missing the mistletoe” he whispered back, his tone playful as he glanced up at the ceiling above them before back down at her. His heart was racing from the kiss, he would never get used to the feeling he felt from kissing stella. Her eyes sparked and she giggled, her tone playful but serious at the same time “Don't worry, I made Quinn buy some. Trust me we will be utilizing it a lot.” 

He kept up his playful tone as he laughed out a response “Oh tons.” 

“So, what Christmas movie should we watch this time?” Stella asked as she plopped down on the living room couch, in her hand was the remote as she turned the tv on. Rutger followed her into the living room, being careful not to trip over her slippers by the couch and set the two steaming mugs of hot chocolate that they had just gotten finished making, on the snow globe coasters that were on the coffee table. He plopped down on the couch next her, lifting her legs for them to rest over his lap. His warm hands already absentmindedly tracing shapes on her covered legs. 

The couple had just put the last batch of cookies in the oven, well Rutger did since stella’s fear of the oven was still very much real! 

“We never did finish the polar express last night” Rutger reminded her, resting his head back against the couch. The couple had started the movie, but they were quick to fall asleep cuddled up in Stella's bed, tired from the long day where they played in the snow with her brothers and their friends. Stella hums in response and goes to her profile on max to resume the movie. 

Stella pressed resume on the movie and adjusted her position to move closer to her boyfriend, her legs still draped over his lap, now her head resting on his shoulder and holding onto his arm. Stella’s eyes were trained on the tv as he watched the movie, but Rutger couldn't find himself focusing on the movie, instead his eyes were trained down at her face. Stella was so into the movie that she didn't feel his stare. 

Rutgers' heart soured with love as he looked down at his girlfriend, thinking of how wonderful it has been being here with her. It was awkward at first, because of the situation with Luke and Jack but they apologized, and Stella made it all worth it. It felt so domestic to be at her home and baking with her, doing family things, he loved it so much. Seeing her so happy with her family and the Christmas spirit she had. He just found himself falling even more in love with her as the trip goes on. 

Rut moved his left hand from her calf and moved to cup her cold cheek, gently tilting her head to look up at him. As soon as they made eye contact, Rutger leaned down to lock her lips in an eager kiss, both of their eyes closing as their lips touched. Their lips moved perfectly against each other as if they had been kissing for years, the taste of her peppermint ChapStick flowing through his senses in the best way. Stella was a little surprised by the sudden kiss, but she was quick to tilt her body more to face him better, letting him lead the kiss. 

They didn't know how long they had been kissing for, both of them pulling away a few times from the passionate kiss to catch their breath before quickly jumping back into the kiss. Rutgers hands rubbed her sides while Stella's hands rested on his chest and shoulder as their tongues moved against each other, taking advantage of the empty house to make out on the couch without the fear of getting caught. Just as he moved one of his hands under her sweater, she abruptly pulled away from the kiss at the sound of the alarm going off. 

“The cookies are ready!” Stella exclaims, quickly moving her legs from his lap and sliding her feet into her slippers before rushing into the kitchen. Rutger groaned at the interruption, throwing his head back against the couch as he caught his breath from the kiss, his mind exploring the thought of them letting the cookies burn and continue. He heard Stella call his name from the kitchen, knowing that she would need him to get the cookies out. He licks his lips tasting her peppermint ChapStick on his lips before getting up from the couch and making his way to the kitchen. 

“Coming pretty girl.” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I literally wrote this in like a hour at 3 am listing to Christmas music in my bed, actually shocked! I loved this so much!! WHY ARE THEY SO PERFECT??? Again!! Please don’t be a silent reader, I love to hear your guys thoughts, reblogs are appreciated! )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @bradenschneider @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

[natti-ice]

Dream Invader- Castiel.

Pairing: Castiel x fem!reader

Summary: Castiel takes a trip into Y/N’s dream and finds some interesting information

Warnings: written in third person (she/her pronouns) (1.6k words)

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

The Impala drove down a dark road, no other cars for miles. They had just got a case two states over. They had just finished a hunt so they didn't have any time to rest. Dean is in the driver's seat, Sam in the passenger, Y/N in the back passed out. She wasn't new to the game, but it always wore her out like a newbie.

Dean went through all the channels on the radio, either they were static or they were playing some new top 40 song. He wasn't a fan of this new generation's music. He was getting annoyed, he settled on silence.

"All this new technology and they can't get better signal out here" Dean grumbled, mostly to himself.

"People don't listen to the radio anymore, Dean" Sam mumbled, fighting his sleep. He was exhausted, he got four hours of sleep in the past two days. He was always on edge, afraid something would happen when he slept.

"Shh, Y/N's sleeping"

"Must be nice" Dean said looking up at the rearview mirror. "Jesus!" He said startled.

Sam jumped, the tired leaving his body. His hand immediately reaching for his handgun, snapping his back to look in the back seat.

"Cas, you have to stop popping up out of nowhere" Dean sighed

"Sorry, I figured this was better than showing up in the middle of the road."

"I wanted to come with you guys on this hunt, I had nothing better to do" Castiel explained.

"Why didn't you just call?" Sam asked

"I uh- I lost my cellphone" He replied, he had no idea where it was. Probably some country in Europe, he's been to too many places this week.

"Whatever just give us a warning next time" Dean said

-

The four of them drove in silence for another thirty minutes. Y/N is still sound asleep. As much as Dean loved to drive, looking at a bunch of nothing is boring. He was trying to think of a game to keep him occupied, maybe like 'count how many trees you see' he probably couldn't count that high.

Checking the mirror once more, he saw a faint smile on Y/N's sleeping face. She was always a peaceful sleeper, he wondered how after all the things they had seen. How could anyone sleep after that? He was happy she could sleep, he never wanted her to know the feeling of running off adrenaline and bad coffee.

He got an idea, not his best work but he had to deal with what he had.

"Hey Cas" The angel looked up, he didn't know road trips were this boring.

"Yeah?" He answered

"Why don't you hop into Y/N's dream, see why she's got that smile on her face"

"Dean-" Sam started

"C'mon it's harmless Sammy. Just a little bit of fun" Dean said before his brother could tell him how that it was an invasion of privacy blah blah.

"I don't think that's a good Idea, Dean" Castiel didn't understand how this would be "fun" But he knew humans found entertainment in weird ways.

"Don't be a buzzkill. Just use your little angel powers and see what she's doing."

"She's probably running through a field of flowers or something"

"Fine. I'll do it, but don't ask me to do anything weird for at least a week"

"Deal, now go" Dean said, he could feel his brother's disappointed glare as Cass disappeared.

"What?" he asked

"Boundaries Dean, boundaries." Sam sighed

"Oh please it's not like Cas doesn't show up in our dreams three times a week"

Silence.

"No, he doesn't" Sam said confused

"Whatever, you know what I mean" Dean nervously squeezed the steering wheel. Oh god, do I dream about Cas? he thought.

"Right.." Sam replied giving Dean a skeptical look

-

Castiel landed on some unstable surface. Looking down at his feet, his black shoes were sinking in sand with every step. He looked around at his surrounding, he was on a beach. The sun was starting to set, the sound of waves crashing filled the air. It was so picturesque.

He could hear faint music coming from his right. Off into the distance, he could see two people standing. He figured it was Y/N, but he didn't know who the other person was. He walks closer to the pair, he noticed small candles lit around the two.

They were swaying to the tune playing from the small radio on the ground. It was one of those old love songs. It seemed whoever she was with, they were romantically involved. When he got about 6 feet away from them, he could see who the mystery person was.

It was him.

Well, his vessel.

They seemed so happy, in love with the moment. Y/N had her arms wrapped around his torso resting her head on his chest. While dream Castiel's hands were on her waist. He didn't know she felt that way about him, maybe it was just the dream.

He watched them for what felt like forever, as he took in the sight. He had a strong love for Y/N, he had trouble figuring out what kind of love. She was one of the most beautiful humans he'd ever met. She's smart, funny, caring, in his eyes she was perfect.

Though, he wasn't sure how relationships between humans and angels would be seen by the man upstairs. Honestly, he didn't care.

He guessed he had been standing there so long Y/N felt his presence. She looked over and saw him. "Castiel?" her eyes went wide.

He freaked out and didn't know what to say, he vanished out of the dream landing back in the Impala.

Shortly after, Y/N woke up from her sleep. She looked over and saw Castiel. Her hope of that meeting being a part of her dream went out the window. He saw what she was doing. She prayed to anyone who was listening that he didn't think anything of it.

"Morning sunshine" Dean said when he saw she was awake.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, he could see she was disheveled.

"Fine" She replied, trying to keep it together

"Did you see anything in there, Cas?"

"Nope. Just like you said, fields." He came up with the lie on the spot, he didn't want to embarrass Y/N anymore.

"That's boring-"

"Hang on, you told him to go into my dream?" Annoyance in her voice

"It was just for fun Y/N, plus like he said, he didn't see anything" He said in defense.

"You son of a bitch" she said flicking his ear

"Ough!"

-

The rest of the drive was mainly silent. Y/N didn't talk to Dean much and didn't say a word to Castiel. She was so embarrassed, out of all the dreams he could've walked in on it was that one.

It had been reoccurring for months, she and Cass on a beach in each other's arms. Not one problem in the world, it was just them. Her crush grew stronger as the dream progressed. She had done so well hiding her feelings for the angel. Now all of that is gone because Dean is nosy.

They finally made it to their next case, pulling up to a motel parking lot. Sam and Dean went inside the office to get a room, leaving Cass and Y/N alone.

They stood outside the car waiting for them to get back. Needless to say, it was pretty damn awkward. The silence was killing Y/N, she spoke up.

"Thank you" she said

"What?" Castiel was confused

"Thanks for not telling them what you saw." she kept her head down

"Oh, you're welcome... I didn't think it was my place to tell them about your dream."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy" he felt so bad about this.

"It's alright. At least now you know." she sighed

"Know what?"

"You're gonna make me say it?" she looked up at him. He looked very confused

"That I like you, Castiel."

"Oh," he swallowed "I didn't want to assume anything, I had no idea about this"

"No one knew, I didn't want it getting in the way of the job. Plus I know there's no chance you feel the same way-"

"You're wrong" he cut her off

"Huh?"

"About how I feel, I do feel the same. I guess I've been keeping a secret too." He looked deep into her eyes to make sure she knew he was telling the truth. " There hasn't been a day that's gone by where I haven't thought about you, how kind and sweet you are. Not to mention how stunning you are."

Y/N thought she was still dreaming. She couldn't believe what he was saying, her heart started to race. She couldn't find any words, so she used her actions.

Her eyes flickered down to his lips back to his eyes, leaning in slow in case he wanted to back out. He matched her actions, leaning in connecting their lips. She runs her hand through his hair deepening the kiss.

"What the hell did we miss?" Dean's voice pulled them out of their daze, pulling apart from each other.

"Hey guys" she nervously smiled

"Hey" Dean mocked "Should we get you two lovebirds your own room?" he laughed

"Leave them alone" Sam said "c'mon rooms this way" he led the group towards the motel room

Dean walked in between Castiel and Y/N one arm on each of them pulling them in for an awkward hug.

"Isn't this great, my two best pals together. I can hear the wedding bells already!"

Join a tag list!

[spenceragnewfics]

can you please!!! do Spencer with a taller lady 🥺 thinking about how obsessed he would be with their long legs

I loved this idea and knew exactly what I wanted to do! I hope you enjoy!

SHORT KING AND HIS TALL QUEEN | Spencer Agnew x Tall!F!Reader

Summary: Y/N, a tall woman who has struggled with insecurities due to childhood bullying and societal judgments, had almost resigned herself to a life of loneliness. Her perspective began to change when she met Spencer at a party in LA. Despite their height difference, Spencer's genuine interest and love helped Y/N overcome her fears.

Word Count: 815

All her life, Y/N had felt some shame being a tall woman. As a young child she was bullied in school for being taller, that lead to her having a lot of insecurities as she got older. She never really dated in school because most guys either didn’t like that she was taller than them or they couldn’t get past her the assumptions put on her by her classmates.

While the bullying slowly came to a stop, the damage was done. Y/N felt as if she was a loveless monster because she was born to be a bit taller than some people. This feeling continued into college and even after she graduated, she had almost settled on a life of being single until she met Spencer.

She was visiting a friend in LA and was introduced to him by her friend at a party. She couldn’t miss the excited look on her frined’s face before they rushed off. “You must be Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you from Beth.” He yelled over the music as he put his hand out. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you, Spencer.” She said and shook his hand.

The two hung out the rest of the night. They talked, took shots, danced, and sang along together the whole night. The night slipped away, feeling like only mere minutes compared to the hours they hung out. Y/N was the one to leave first, needing to get home to take care of her dog. They exchanged numbers and it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship turned relationship.

At first, she was nervous about dating Spencer. He was much shorter than her but he didn’t seem to care, if anything, it seemed to make him more interested. It took her a bit to get used to the stares they would get in public, but she got over it and started to ignore them. Everything seemed to go fine, until she was in a Smosh video. 

Y/N is not an influencer, not by any means, but she does have an amazing sense of humor. Spencer really wanted her to in a vidoe because he thought her humor would mess well with some of the games cast and her opportunity came after Amanda called out last minute because of a family emergency.

The filming was smooth as she knew everyone, having come by the Smosh office plenty of times since her and Spencer started dating. She never even thought anything of the small jokes the cast would make during the vide about her and Spencer dating after they introduced her as his girlfriend at the start of the video.

That was a couple of weeks ago, now, she’s sat on her couch in shorts as she reads the comments on the video she was in and feels her heartbreak. Spencer is sitting next to her with her legs in his lap as he watches some random movie on the TV when he notices her change in body language.

“Babe, everything okay?” He asks, running a comforting hand up and down her legs. She doesn’t say anything, her eyes focused on the comments in front of her as her thumb continues to scroll.

Spencer leans over to see what she’s looking at then rolls his eyes before slipping her phone out of her hands. “Spence! I was ready-” He interrupts her by putting his lip against her’s. His hands find home on her hips as she wraps her arms around his neck. The kiss is full of love and passion, his lips moving against her in a slow and gentle motion to show his need of her.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on her’s, “Don’t read the comments on videos. If you do, then only pay attention to the good ones. The people who write hate comments are lonely assholes who have nothing better to do in life than hate on other people.” He says, squeezing her hips.

“That’s easy for you to say, Spence. All these people are saying, are things that just confirm what my bullies used to tell me.” She says, her eyes getting watery as her insecurities start to show. “Like I said, they’re assholes.” He says before kissinf her neck and slowly moving his lips down until he is kissing the exposed skin of her legs.

“I want you, because you’re an amazing girl. You love so hard and you are so fucking hot, like oh my god. These legs!” He practically moans as he continues to kiss up and down her legs. She smiles to herself, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her legs as she thinks over his words.

Why does she care what random people say? She has a loving boyfriend and friends who love her for her and that’s all she could ever want and need.

[keesdarlin]

☆// merry and bright (MDNI, 18+)

info! 141 + könig + keegan / fluff, established relationship + gender neutral reader

cw! no CWs

prompt! their favorite christmas/holiday activities

notes! i'm not big on christmas usually, but this seemed cute so i thought i would do a little bit of writing for it. hope you enjoy :]

KÖNIG

könig's favorite holiday activity is going to see the lights. he'll take driving through the neighborhood in a car if he has to, but he really likes making a whole night out of it. to him, going to see the lights is an entire event. you'll dress up all warm and stop on the way out to grab some hot chocolate or tea or whatever it is you fancy along with some warm snacks. then you'll find a nice neighborhood, probably packed with all the other people who had the same idea as you, and just walk through it. it's a nice way to just get out for a little bit, to bask in the fresh air and that winter chill. a nice excuse for him to spoil you a little bit with some treats and sugar. he keeps a hand on you so that you don't get swept away in the crowd and is ridiculously attentive to you. asks if you want him to go get you more hot cocoa when your cup empties. pulls you closer into his side when you complain about how cold it is. looks at all the displays that you point out and smiles for every picture. it's all very sweet, really. he just loves seeing the way your eyes shine while you're looking at all of the pretty lights.

GAZ

kyle loves taking you present shopping. he mostly likes it because you like it. window shopping, putting so much care and attention into choosing gifts for someone else, trying to figure out what you want for yourself. it's even more fun when you're doing all of the shopping in one place, preferably the mall. it's convenient and lively and full of energy. the lines are kind of a pain, but it's a little bit less annoying when he has you to talk to. he buys you whatever snacks you want while you're shopping. stopping for lunch is the best because that's prime time for people watching. you guys will just sit in the food court while listening to other people's conversations and commenting on them. makes sure that you're as comfortable as possible before you leave the house -- good shoes, comfortable clothes, hair tie on hand just in case you need it. he brings along band-aids in case you end up getting a blister. he also takes note of things that you like. he can't resist getting you a little gift or two to slip you when you're at home later.

SOAP

soap really likes the parties. really he just likes any excuse to see you all dressed up, especially for a party. add in some alcohol and he's having a great time. in his defense, what's not to like about a good party? music, free food, and some scheduled time to hang out with all of your friends, maybe catch up with some people that you haven't seen in a little while. he likes how clingy you get at parties too, all in the spirit of cuffing season and everything. you guys are basically joined at the hip, you either hanging on his arm or his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders or waist, keeping you pulled to his side. he likes the whole deal -- the themes, dressing up, having an excuse to dote on you a little extra, the coziness. he's super down to get lost in the moment of course, but he's always paying attention to you as well. all making sure your cup is full, making sure you have a plate of snacks if you're hungry or a sweater if you're cold, making sure you have someone to dance with if you feel like it. the whole event just gets him going.

GHOST

ghost really enjoys the lazy days that the holidays allow for. he just likes having the time to just exist with you. of course he loves planning dates when your busy schedules allow the both of you to see one another, but that can get a little bit high-pressure from time to time. if you're lucky enough that he's home for the holidays when you also happen to have work off, he really prefers to stay in with you. his favorite part is probably getting to sleep in late with you pulled to his chest. there's no risk of him waking up to an empty bed because you had to run off to work or go buy milk before an appointment or whatever else life throws at you. even if he wakes up before you, he can just hold you to his chest and find comfort in the sound of you breathing (and you can do that same. just listen to the beating of his heart as he sleeps beside you). when you are both finally awake, the morning is still slow to start. you stay in bed for another hour or three and take your time convincing each other to get up and start the day. it's usually simon that caves first, getting up and dragging you out of bed along with him. you both trudge to the kitchen, enjoying the coziness of your little apartment as you make tea and scrape together a lazy breakfast. from there you spend the day in your pajamas, cuddling on the couch and watching movies under a few blankets, dozing off and on, occasionally grazing on snacks.

PRICE

price usually enjoys being in the kitchen with you around the holidays. this usually consists of him being your little helper or leaning against the doorframe and rambling while you cook whatever you've set yourself to. he'll stand with you and make jokes or talk about random stuff while you roll out sheets of cookie dough or work on cooking something for dinner. to keep him occupied you'll assign him ingredients to dig through the cabinets for, really just so that you don't have to do it yourself. he'll probably find it with maximum efficiency too just so that you're not left waiting on him. he hands it to you, waits for you to measure it out, and then puts it back so that you're not losing any counter space either. and he's always bugging you for a taste of whatever you're making whether it's cookie dough or soup or whatever, but especially if it's some kind of sweet treat. if you're making cookies, you can guarantee that he'll sneak one off the cooling rack when you're not looking. would absolutely insist on making the most absurd gingerbread house with you (and would probably end up either painting you with frosting or eating it all).

KEEGAN

i'd like to think that keegan's favorite part of christmas is the snow. anything to do with the snow, really. during the first snow of the season, he drags you out to see it. it doesn't matter if you're working or sleeping or what, but cue keegan shaking you as gently as his stifled excitement can muster to come out and see it. if he's not with you when it finally start snowing, he'll call you and leave a short but sweet message about it. he loves playing in it; it's one of the only times he lets his guard down. loves snow angels, building igloos and snow men, having snowball fights, sledding. the whole nine yards. he just has a blast with it. he also teaches you how to make snow creams when you guys have the time for it (firm believer here that keegan would like his snow creams with chocolate chips). sometimes he'll go outside by himself and just sit in the snow for a little bit or stick his hand in it and feel the way it melts on his palms. it helps ground him, helps clear his head. no matter the case, he's more than happy to be able to share it with you.