#anyways i threw them away because there was no CHANCE i was going to have those with me when i landed in france

[asteraceaye]

I'm still not over the fact that I accidentally left my pair of scissors in my backpack and TSA flagged them and then let me keep them 😭

[chuluoyi]

jealousy, jealousy...

- nanami kento x reader

your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, jealous!nanami (he is in denial), implied suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, gojo cameo (i just can't pass up the chance of him annoying the heck out of nanami ahaha)

note: based on this ask, this is a little continuation to the secret wife! and this is in the same universe as love entries so gojo is married to the love entries reader! :)

general masterlist

By all means, Nanami Kento is not a jealous man.

He knows his worth. And he knows you. Out of all people, you wouldn't try anything with anyone.

Even more so with Ino. He knows him too, and there is just no way.

So... he really shouldn't get riled up, especially when it was his shitty senior who tried to set him on fire—

"It's still beyond me, how you managed to bag her," Gojo remarked with a bark of snort. Both of them shared the same table in this high-end bar, an afterparty for the school's graduation, but Nanami was seriously considering to move after Yaga left earlier until this clown came. "And keep her a secret too. I mean, that's so foul! If I were your wife, I'd divorce you on the spot."

Nanami threw him a pointed look. "The feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her for putting up with you too. And please don't be gross and say things like you being my wife. It's appalling."

Gojo's wife being his close friend and former classmate was what foul, Nanami thought. Sure, he would acknowledge Gojo's relentless efforts, but still, anyone willing to be this shameless paintbrush's wife must lead a really daring life.

The strongest sorcerer rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'll have you know that my married life is full of bliss. I have a proof, look at my—"

"If you want to show me hickeys, I'll seriously report you for harassing me."

And to that, Gojo merely whined and pursed his lips, and Nanami finally had some peace. He really entertained the thought of going back, because Gojo wasn't exactly a fun company, and this was getting late, until…

"Hey, Ino—the one who always follows you around," Gojo suddenly said. "Whoa, you're letting him close to your wife too, huh?"

Nanami whipped his head to where you were, and true to what Gojo said, you were indeed there, talking animatedly to his junior.

You were all smiles, and Ino was every bit as excited as you were. There was nothing remotely wrong with how you were conversing. You two looked like a pair of really, really good friends.

Ever since word of your marriage got out and became common knowledge, you've been receiving the kind of attention that Nanami wasn't sure he preferred. While he hadn't intended to keep it a secret, he certainly felt that a more private life was preferable.

But the thing was… weren't you too close with him? If it were up to him, Ino could've had at least two steps back. What were you discussing anyway?

"You're a lax husband, Nanamin, heh," Gojo whistled, totally grinning because he won this fight. "I know you probably think it's harmless, but a puppy is still a dog, you know~"

A puppy... is what?

That night, that phrase was what going through in his mind over and over as he chugged down his drinks.

No way, no way... It must have been because he had too much to drink. He couldn't possibly!

The next time he felt that unpleasant feeling, it was on one night, at the comfort of your home.

Both of you had just finished watching a movie, still lounging on the sofa. You were blissfully humming, texting away on your phone at—Nanami looked at the clock—11 p.m.

Now, now, he wasn't one who would be checking your phone or such, but he couldn't deny the curiosity within him, because you weren't usually texting anyone this late at night.

"Hehe~" suddenly, you giggled and Nanami glanced at you in wonder. You seemed to be having fun.

Who... are you texting?

Despite telling himself he wouldn't meddle in your affairs, he gruffly cleared his throat. "Dear, it's late."

"Oh?" you whipped your head to him. "Oh, yeah..."

You were genuinely confused, your husband was folding his face as if he was sour of something. "Kento? What's wrong?"

But suddenly, his face lit up into a smile, kind of forced though. "Ah, nothing..." And suddenly he lifted you up from the sofa, making you almost yelp as you dropped your phone and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Time for bed."

However, what you didn't realize was that your phone's screen lit up just as the sender replied to your message, and Nanami caught a glimpse of it.

Ino.

A puppy is still a dog, you know~

The heck?

"Kento?" you asked again, and he immediately turned to you, unable to read the message. Still, his mind was reeling in many ways, and when he looked into your innocent, round eyes, suddenly he clicked his tongue, eyes slitting in dissatisfaction.

"Time for bed, dear."

Long story short, that night, your husband was somehow a little more aggressive than usual... even as he fondled you ever so softly at the end.

The third time, Nanami had enough.

He had just finished a mission when he got that call from Ino, informing him that you were at a clinic after nearly passing out.

Out of anyone else... how could you not call him first?!

He may be vexed, but worry was what clouded his mind the most. You were almost five months pregnant now, and to have this happening to you—

He walked in to find you lying on the small bed, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. "Kento..."

"What happened to you? Why didn't you call me?" his voice was rough, and your smile fell. You felt him gripping your hand tightly. "How can you—"

Ino, sensing his apprehension, suddenly intervened, "Uh, Nanami-san, it's not—"

Nanami turned to him sharply, causing him to gulp.

"We were... in a bakery when Y/N-san suddenly felt faint," the younger man explained. "Please don't be too hard on her."

"And why are you with my wife in broad daylight?"

"Kento, it's not what it looks like!" you squeezed his hand urgently. "We were just... trying to find a cake, you know..."

"...what?"

And that day, everything Nanami thought he knew was turned on its axis. Perhaps, if he wasn't thinking too much—if Gojo's words hadn't taken his mind, he wouldn't jump into conclusions this easily.

Your first wedding anniversary was just in a couple of weeks, and you had enlisted in Ino's help to find this one bakery that he swore sold only the best goods. Your texts to each other were solely about that—nothing more, nothing less.

"Aww, Kento~" you cooed as Nanami helped you into your shared bed once you got back home. "You got jealous, it's cute, and I'm happy~"

He huffed. "I was not jealous."

"Ehh, didn't look like that to me though~"

"Listen," he said, taking hold of your shoulders once he had seated you on the bed, looking straight into your eyes. "From now on, whatever you do... you have to contact me first, alright?"

"Oh—?"

"When you need something, when you don't feel well, when you feel like you might be in some kind of danger..." his tone was serious, emphasizing each word. "You have to reach out to me first. You don't go to Ino, Gojo, or anyone else—me. You go to me. I'm your husband, and I intend to fulfill that role well for you."

And he placed a hand on your tummy, gently caressing it. "And of course the father role for the baby too."

You clamped up, totally speechless. This unexpected development made your heart soar with a heap of giddiness.

"Yes!" Your smile was so wide and radiant that Nanami was sure he had started to blush too. Then you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "And you know... you're already the best husband and soon-to-be father ever! So you don't have anything to worry about, okay?"

Ah, how nice. Nanami chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back.

"Mhm, and from now on, I'll take charge of our anniversary. You only have to take it easy, alright?"

And when you giggled, he thought having you in his embrace like this was enough to satisfy him—after all, he was a simple man.

Epilogue

"I know even Nanami gets jealous! Heh, heh, heh~"

Gojo laughed crisply, and Shoko snorted as they listened to Ino recount the story, with the latter scratching his head uncomfortably.

"I really didn't mean anything, and now I feel kinda bad," the younger man said, his head dropping. "Nanami-san seemed upset too..."

"Not many things can get under his skin," Shoko remarked. "I really thought he'd be more rational, but having an expecting wife must've taken quite a toll on him too."

"Nah, don't find more excuses, Shoko! Now is time to pay up~!"

As Shoko grumbled and Ino was lost in his own thoughts, a loud cough suddenly echoed behind them.

"Gojo-san... Ieiri-san..." Nanami leveled his unamused gaze on them, his glasses glinting in the light, causing the two gulp. "What are you two doing?"

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Hi! First of all I *love* your guidelines. I’m just recently getting into Stray Kids and while I will read smut about 2D men, smut about real people is off putting to me, so that was really cool to see. Anyway, I love love love your angsty shots. They’re so good! Could I put in a request? I was thinking like how they would all react like, they were out on a date and paparazzi get too aggressive with Y/N and it causes her to get hurt? (I had a dream where I was on a date with Bangchan and we were trying to get into the back of a car and once I got in a paparazzi went to the other side of the car and yanked me out and Bangchan was BIG mad at them, especially cause when I fell out of the car I broke my wrist from landing on it) ANYWAY SORRY FOR THE RANT I’m just big in my feelings about these guys now and since it’s just new I know I’m in for a ride. Thank you!

When Paparazzi Gets Too Violent

OT8 x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight cussing

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Bang Chan

The night had started off perfectly- just you and Chan enjoying a cozy dinner in a quiet restaurant. It had been a while since you two had some time to unwind, since he had been busy with a comeback, and he looked so relieved to just be in your company. You loved watching him let down his guard, his tired eyes softening as he smiled at you across the table.

But the peace didn’t last long.

As soon as you both stepped out onto the street, the flashing lights and swarm of paparazzi descended. You heard your boyfriend let out a deafening sigh.

"Let's just get to the car," Chan whispered, his hand firm on the small of your back as he tried to guide you through the crowd of photographers, questions flying at both of you.

Despite his calm facade, you could feel his body tense under the pressure, his jaw clenching tighter each time someone shoved forward for a shot. You could tell he was on edge, trying so hard to keep his cool.

But then it happened.

You were just about to step into the safety of the car when a paparazzo grabbed you by the arm and yanked you backward. The sudden force threw you off balance, and before you knew it, you were crashing to the pavement. The pain in your wrist was immediate and sharp as you braced yourself on the concrete. The gasp you let out sent Chan into a rage.

"Y/N!" His voice was frantic as he rushed to your side, but the second his eyes landed on the man who had pulled you, something dark flickered across his face.

Bang Chan was not one to lose his temper. He was the leader, the level-headed one, but seeing you hurt because of someone else’s carelessness was his breaking point.

He stood, stepping between you and the crowd, his entire posture shifting from protective to menacing in the blink of an eye. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?!" His voice was low and dangerous, and you could see the tension in his fists, knuckles white as he held himself back from doing something drastic.

The paparazzo who had grabbed you shrunk back under his icy glare, but the cameras kept flashing, people still trying to get closer.

Chan shoved him back, hard. "Get. Away. From her."

It was only when he heard your voice again, a weak "Chan, I'm okay…" that he turned his attention back to you, his anger melting instantly into concern. His eyes softened as he knelt down beside you, his hands gentle as they reached for your wrist.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice shaky, filled with guilt. "I’m so sorry. I should’ve-"

You shook your head, biting back the pain, not wanting to make him feel worse. "It's not your fault."

But he wasn’t having any of it. "We’re going to the hospital," he said firmly, scooping you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. "And I swear, I' won’t let them get away with this. I'm ruining that bastard. "

Lee Know

You and Minho were just trying to enjoy a quiet evening stroll through the park- nothing fancy, just some much-needed alone time. Minho had been busy lately, so this was your chance to reconnect, to talk, to be close. The air was crisp, the city lights reflecting off the pond as you held hands, walking slowly. It was a short escape.

Paparazzi had a way of ruining even the quietest moments. You didn’t notice them at first, but Minho did. His grip on your hand tightened subtly, his gaze shifting as they began to close in, cameras ready, questions already being flung at both of you.

He didn’t say anything- just kept walking, his jaw set, but you could feel the tension in his steps, the way his body became a shield between you and them.

"Ignore them," he muttered under his breath, pulling you a little closer. His voice was calm, almost icy. Minho never gave them the satisfaction of a reaction.

But then one of the paparazzo's got too close- pushing past Minho to get a better shot of you. The sudden shove caused you to lose your footing, and before you could even process what was happening, you were on the ground, a sharp pain shooting through your knee.

You winced, your hands instinctively reaching for your leg, but before you could even say a word, Minho was already in motion.

He froze, his eyes narrowing in on the photographer who had knocked you down. The air around him seemed to grow colder, his usual composed demeanor unraveling in the blink of an eye. "Are you out of your mind?"

His voice was so calm it was terrifying.

Minho’s eyes were dark as he stepped toward the paparazzo, and though he wasn’t yelling, the quiet, seething rage in his voice made everyone around stop in their tracks. "You’ve got five seconds to leave before I make you regret it."

The man stammered, backing away, but Minho didn’t even spare him another glance as he knelt down next to you, his hands surprisingly gentle as they inspected your scraped knee.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his tone soft and completely different from the menacing one he used just moments before.

You nodded, wincing as he brushed some of the dirt off your skin. "It’s just a scratch though, I'll be okay."

His eyes softened, though you could still see the anger simmering beneath the surface. "I’m sorry," he whispered, more to himself than to you. "The night's ruined now..."

You shook your head, knowing it wasn’t his fault, but Minho wasn’t easily reassured. He stood, lifting you in his arms as he headed toward the car. "Let’s go home. I’m not letting you out of my sight again."

Changbin

Being with Changbin was always full of fun, laughter, and energy. Tonight was no different as you both walked hand-in-hand down the street after attending an small festival and grabbing a bit to eat. The air was light, and Changbin was chatting animatedly about music, making you giggle as he recounted a funny story from practice earlier.

But the night took a turn for the worse when you two were spotted. At first, it was just a few cameras, nothing unusual. Changbin was good at staying composed in these situations, but tonight, the crowd of photographers seemed to multiply within seconds, blocking your path as they shoved their cameras in your faces.

Changbin’s expression shifted instantly, his playful smile fading as he moved protectively in front of you. "Stay behind me," he muttered, his voice low and firm.

You did as he said, gripping his arm as he tried to push through the crowd, but the paparazzi weren’t letting up. One of them shoved past Changbin, aiming for a close-up shot, and in the process, they knocked into you hard.

You stumbled backward, tripping over the uneven pavement and hitting your head against the side of a parked car. The impact sent a sharp pain through your skull, and you gasped, your hand flying to your head as you tried to steady yourself.

That was all it took for Changbin to snap.

His usually calm and playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a burning fury that made everyone around stop in their tracks. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?!" His voice boomed through the crowd as he stormed toward the man who had hurt you.

Changbin wasn’t usually one to raise his voice in anger, but when he did, it was enough to make even the bravest person shrink back. The photographer stammered, trying to backpedal, but Changbin was already in his face, his fists clenched as he loomed over him.

"You touch her again, and I swear-"

"Changbin," you called out softly, trying to bring him back to reality as you cradled your head. "I’m okay…"

Hearing your voice, he snapped out of it, his expression softening instantly as he rushed back to your side. "Are you hurt? Let me see."

His hands trembled slightly as he gently brushed your hair away from your face, his eyes filled with guilt and concern. "I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

You shook your head, trying to reassure him. "It’s not your fault."

But Changbin wasn’t convinced. He helped you into the car, his jaw still clenched as he muttered, "I’m never letting them get near you again."

Hyunjin

Hyunjin had always been good at keeping his emotions in check when the paparazzi were involved, but tonight they seemed particularly aggressive. You two had just finished a late-night art gallery visit, one of Hyunjin’s favorite ways to unwind, when the paparazzi caught wind of your location.

At first, Hyunjin tried to ignore them, his arm securely around your waist as you both headed toward the car. "Don’t look at them," he whispered, his voice calm but with an edge of anxiety. He hated the way they intruded on your private moments. Especially when you weren't too keen about having your face all over the internet.

But as you got closer to the car, the crowd surged forward, one of the photographers getting too close. In the rush, someone shoved you hard from behind, causing you to trip and fall forward. You reached out trying to grab Hyunjin- accidentally bringing him down with you, which caused the cameras to snap even more. Hyunjin had somehow landed on top of you; while you landed awkwardly on your elbow, pain shooting up your arm as you let out a soft cry.

Hyunjin had already gotten up but upon hearing your cry his entire body froze. His gaze shot down to where you were on the ground, and for a moment, he didn’t move, the shock registering on his face. Then, something snapped.

His eyes blazed as he turned to the photographer who had caused your fall, his usually soft expression darkening with anger. "Why the hell would you think it's okay to get rough?!" he spat, his voice shaking with fury. Hyunjin wasn’t one to yell, but the way his voice trembled with suppressed rage was even more terrifying.

He stalked toward the man, his entire body tense as if he was ready to lash out at any moment. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" His voice was quiet, but the threat in his tone was unmistakable.

The photographer backed away, stammering apologies, but Hyunjin wasn’t listening. His focus was on you now, his anger dissipating the second he saw you holding your elbow in pain.

"Y/N…" He knelt down beside you, his hands hovering over your arm as if he was afraid to touch you in case he made it worse. "Where does it hurt, love? I’m so sorry…I didn’t see them coming towards you, it's my fault.”

You winced, trying to smile through the pain. "I’ll be okay."

But Hyunjin wasn’t having any of it. "We’re going to get your elbow checked out." he said firmly, his voice still shaking as he helped you to your feet. "And then we'll deal with the idiot who pushed you."

Jisung

Jisung had always been protective of you, but he wasn’t one to confront others unless he absolutely had to. Tonight, however, the situation forced his hand.

You and Jisung were leaving a small café after a quiet date, enjoying the peace that came with being together without people around. But that peace was shattered when a swarm of cameras appeared out of nowhere, crowding around you both as you tried to make your way back to the car.

At first, Jisung tried to keep it together. His grip on your hand tightened as he led you through the mass of flashing cameras and shouted questions. His heartbeat raced, anxiety bubbling in his chest as he tried to remain calm for your sake. You could easily tell he was anxious by the way his hand shook in yours.

But then it happened.

One of the photographers got too close, bumping into you as she shoved her camera forward. The force of it sent you stumbling, your knee hitting the ground hard as you let out a sharp cry of pain.

Panic surged through Jisung. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he froze, his wide eyes darting between you and the crowd around you. He wanted to lash out, wanted to yell, but his anxiety made his words catch in his throat.

Instead, he knelt down beside you, his trembling hands hovering over your injured knee. "Y/N, are you okay?" His voice wavered, the fear and guilt evident in his tone.

You winced, trying to smile through the pain. "I think I’m okay, just a bit scraped up."

Jisung’s mind raced. He knew he should say something, do something, but his usual anxious thoughts were louder than ever. What if he made it worse? What if he couldn’t protect you?

But then he saw the look on your face- how you were trying so hard to stay strong even though you were in pain -and something in him snapped. His fear was replaced by a surge of protective anger.

Jisung stood up, his usually anxious eyes hardening as he faced the paparazzi. His voice was shaky, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "Back off," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper, but firm. "You’ve done enough."

The paparazza who had bumped into you tried to offer an apology, but Jisung wasn’t listening. His focus was solely on you as he crouched back down, gently helping you to your feet. His hands were still shaking, but his grip was steady as he held you close.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered, his eyes glistening with guilt and worry. "I should’ve done more."

You shook your head, placing a hand on his cheek. "It’s not your fault, Jisung. I’m okay. And there isn't much you can do about them."

But Jisung wasn’t convinced. He gently wrapped an arm around your waist, helping you limp toward the car. His voice was quiet, filled with an anxiety-fueled promise. "I’ll protect you better next time, I swear. I won’t let them hurt you."

As you both reached the safety of the car, Jisung finally let out the breath he had been holding, pulling you into a tight hug. His body trembled slightly, but his arms were firm around you, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with sincerity. "I’m never letting this happen again. Never."

Felix

Felix had always been the softest, sweetest soul you’d ever met, but even the kindest person had their limits. Tonight, you found out exactly what that limit was.

You and Felix were on your way to a late-night movie when the paparazzi caught wind of your date. It started with a few photographers, nothing Felix couldn’t handle. He just kept you close, his hand in yours, trying to keep the mood light as you both walked toward the theater. If anything, some cute and candid photos of his love for you would be broadcasted to the world. Nothing too bad about that, right?

But then the crowd started to grow, and they weren’t just taking pictures- they were yelling questions, getting closer and closer with each step. Felix’s grip on your hand tightened, his steps growing faster as he tried to get you away from them.

"Just ignore them," he whispered, his usual bright demeanor gone as he focused on getting you to safety.

But then, in the chaos, one of the photographers reached out, grabbing your shoulder to pull you back for a better shot. The force of it caused you to stumble, your ankle twisting painfully as you cried out in surprise.

That was when everything changed.

That limit was reached.

Felix’s usually bright eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them as he turned on the photographer who had dared to touch you. You had never seen him like this- his entire body radiated fury as he stepped toward the man, his voice low and dangerous.

"Touch her again, and I swear to God, I'll end you." Felix’s voice was a quiet snarl, each word laced with venom. He didn’t have to yell to be terrifying. The photographer shrank back, clearly not expecting this reaction from the usually soft-spoken Felix.

But Felix didn’t stop there. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "You think you can just push her around like that?" His voice trembled with rage, his fists clenched at his sides as he held himself back from doing something he might regret.

Despite Felix’s usually soft-spoken nature, tonight, seeing you hurt pushed him beyond his breaking point. The paparazzo who had shoved you continued to cower as Felix approached him, his eyes blazing with a fury that you had never seen before.

No one had, really. You now understood why the members had once said Felix might have been the scariest one of them all, when he was truly angry.

"You think this is a game?" Your fiancé's voice was low, almost a whisper, but it was filled with a deadly calm that sent chills down your spine. His usually gentle demeanor had been replaced by something darker, more dangerous.

The paparazzi stuttered an apology, backing away, but Felix didn’t move. He took another step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "You don’t get to touch her," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying an unmistakable threat. "You crossed a line, and that was a huge mistake."

The photographer muttered an apology, scurrying away, but Felix wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. He turned back to you, his expression softening instantly as he saw you clutching your ankle.

"Oh, love," he whispered, his voice full of guilt and concern as he crouched down beside you. "I don't know how I got blessed with someone like you. The fact you put up with all of this is insane."

He helped you up. "Is your ankle, okay?"

"Yeah, I think I just landed on it weird I'll be fine..." Your voice was a bit shaky- not because you were in pain but because an angry Felix was...scary, to say the least. "I can walk- woah!"

Felix scooped you up into his arms effortlessly, the pure rush of adrenaline giving him a strength that you figured could rival Changbin's in the moment. His eyes still blazed with anger as he shot a look towards the rest of the paparazzi who left without another word. "They'll never bother us again." he promised, his calm. "I swear."

Seungmin

Seungmin was always calm under pressure, the voice of reason when things got chaotic. But even he had times where his rationale would fly out the window.

You and Seungmin were walking through the streets after dinner, enjoying a date night together when the paparazzi found you.

Or someone else for that matter. As you two quickly realized they were focused on a different idol who had happened to be in the same area. So, Seungmin just kept his arm around you, his posture relaxed, guiding you through around crowd without a word- without so much as a look to the cameras.

And you almost got away.

That was until more photographers joined in, pushing and shoving to get closer, to the other idol. Seungmin’s calm demeanor began to slip. He tightened his hold on you, his eyes flickering with irritation as he tried to get you through the growing crowd.

"Just pay no mind," he muttered, his voice low, but you could hear the tension in it.

You nodded, staying close to him as you reached the end of the crowded space- but then another swarm of the pap came in and in the midst of chaos, someone pushed you from behind, causing you to stumble and fall against the pavement. Your hands hit the ground hard, scraping your palms as you let out a small whine, trying to get up but nearly stampeded in the process.

That was when Seungmin snapped.

His usually calm eyes darkened as he turned on the photographer who had pushed you, his entire body radiating fury. "What the hell is wrong with you?" His voice was low and controlled, but the anger in it was unmistakable.

One of the paparazza's turned to see Seungmin, who in the middle of the commotion had somehow lost his hat.

Seungmin wasn’t the type to raise his voice, but the way he looked at the photographer made everyone around stop in their tracks for a second. The woman stammered, trying to back away, but Seungmin wasn’t letting her off easily.

But the second the words left his mouth, he felt the cool breeze ruffle his hair and he knew he made a mistake. He mutter a curse under his breath and he rushed to your side blocking you from the paparazzi as their cameras started flashing in his direction. His hands were gentle as they reached for yours, inspecting the scrapes on your palms. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice full of guilt.

You nodded. "I’ll be fine."

"I'm sorry I drew attention to us." He murmured.

"It's okay."

But Seungmin's mood was ruined. He helped you to your feet, his eyes still flickering with anger as he glared at the paparazzi over his shoulder. "No pictures." he said firmly, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury as he guided you to where he had parked the car. It was no use, since they never listened. But he continued chanting it as he hid your face.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He said once more. "They're the fucking worst."

Jeongin

You and Jeongin had been trying to enjoy a quiet day out, just the two of you exploring the city. He’d been excited to show you some of his favorite spots, and the day had been perfect, but the inevitable happened.

Jeongin tensed the moment he saw the cameras approaching, his hand tightening around yours as he tried to keep his cool. "Just stay close," he whispered, his voice calm but a little shaky. "It hasn't happened to me yet but sometimes they can get rough..."

You could tell he was nervous, but he did his best to protect you, stepping in front of you as the photographers got closer. They started snapping pictures, throwing questions at you both, but Jeongin just kept walking, his arm securely around you.

But then one of the paparazzi got too close, pushing past Jeongin to get a better shot of you. The sudden shove knocked you off balance, and you tripped over the curb, falling hard onto the pavement. You cried out as you landed on your tailbone.

Damn that hurts.

You felt blood seeping on the back of your leg too, a shard of glass seeming to have cut through your pant and wounded your thigh.

Jeongin froze, his eyes wide with shock as he saw you on the ground and the bit of blood. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do, his usual calm demeanor slipping as panic set in. "Y/N…" he whispered, his voice trembling as he crouched down beside you.

"Where are you bleeding from?" he asked, his hands hovering over you as if he was too scared to touch you, afraid of making it worse.

You winced, in annoyance, since the fall was painful but not unbearable. "I think that there was a broken bottle..."

Jeongin’s eyes filled with guilt as he glanced back at the paparazzi, his usually soft expression hardening for just a moment. He wasn’t the type to get angry easily in front of you, but seeing you hurt because of someone else’s carelessness made something inside him snap.

He stood up, turning to face the photographer with a look of quiet fury. "You shouldn’t have done that," he muttered, his voice low and steady, but there was a fire in his eyes that you had never seen before. "Get away now before I call the police on all of you."

When the paparazzi didn't listen his voice raised.

"I SAID LEAVE!" His voice was sharp and threatening. So much so the group immediately dissipated.

He quickly turned his attention back to you after making sure everyone was gone, his hands trembling slightly as he helped you up. "I’m so sorry…" he whispered, his voice thick with guilt as he wrapped an arm around you. "I didn't think they would do that..."

You shook your head, trying to reassure him. "It’s not your fault, Innie."

Jeongin frowned, pulling you closer to him. "Next time we can bring one of the Hyungs. Then I can protect you better."

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

[karmavongrim]

Dear Father fanfic idea

DC x DP crossover fanfiction

Fanfic idea of Danny adopting everyone. He’s worse than Batman since he does it 200% deliberately with no age nor race restriction.

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

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Yeah, nope. No way in hell was he, John mother-fucking Constantine going to let this happen. Only over his dead body, which might actually be the case by the end of the bloody day if they couldn’t come up with something else other than that. And he wasn’t going to change his mind no matter how much the kid currently gallivanting as a demi-god whined. Wasn’t that a news when he found out several months ago.

“Come on Constans, we both know he wouldn’t mind. Besides what else can we do, we’ve tried everything.” Captain Marvel pleaded with the older man as he gestured their surroundings.

It couldn’t be described as anything else other than apocalyptic. A complete fucking shitshow.

Apparently a prophecy of some kind came to fruition right under their bloody noses and they were left grasping straws to try and stop the end of the world from happening. If only-

“Call him or I’ll call him John! Your choice.” Pressed Marvel who was getting fed up with the magician’s nonsense but he wasn’t bugging, no siree!

“Shut up, we don’t need his help! Just let me-” John yelled while buried head first in his spell book, desperately trying to find away that didn’t require him to relinquish the last few pits of his shabby dignity. Or what was left of it anyways. But Marvel was having non of it.

“Nope, that’s it! I’m making the call!” The red glad man shouted over the blonde brit and pulled out his personal phone which looked like it had been pulled strait out of a sci-fi movie.

This caused John to lunge at Marvel who in return floated away out of his reach.

“Are you daft? I’ll never hear the end of it so don’t even- Hey! Don’t you dare, I swear-!” They were quickly interrupted by a black looming silhouette quickly approaching them.

“I hope that you two have come up with something since you’re able to play around like this.” Batman demanded in gruff manner, man looking worse for wear just like the rest of them. Marvel swiftly positioned the dark one between him and his would-be assailant.

“Oh we did have a solution from the very start but someone thinks that we don’t need any help. His poor ego wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He told as he threw a look over his makeshift barrier’s shoulder.

“Shut your cakehole.” John hissed but was reluctantly put in place by a hard glare from mister darker and gloomier who turned to the floating magic-user.

“What is this solution exactly? Help from who or what?” At his inquiry the boy-man hero couldn’t help but beam when he began to explain what, or rather who he had in mind.

“Well I was thinking calling our-” But he was rudely cut in before he could get far.

“We aren’t calling anybody because we don’t need his help! We can take care of this on our own!” Batman turned back to the blond and was clearly at the end of his patience.

“We are running on borrowed time Constantine, if there is any chance to for us to stop this then we should take it since we don’t have any other options left.”

The two began to argue so heatedly that they didn’t pay attention to Marvel speed dialing the number he kept close to his heart. With a dopey grin he bounced on his heels while he waited for the other side to answer. After just two rings the line connected.

“Hi kid! What are you calling in for, did you get out of work already?” A jovial, baritone voice rang out which instantly relaxed the kid-not-kid hero. The all-composing feeling of warmth, protection and safety could almost be felt through the phone which never failed to make him feel comfortable and at peace.

“Hi dad! No, I’m still at work and we kinda shorta need your help. Badly.”

He could near feel the change in his father’s mood and he definitely heard it in his voice.

“What do you need? Where are you?” Came the rapid questioning. His smile never left as he thought how dad always went strait to business when it came to his family and friends. Always ready to help no matter what or why.

“Well, apparently the apocalypse is happening and we have no idea how to stop it… Can you help us? Please?” He tentatively asked as he glanced back at the bickering duo. Sometimes he asked himself if he really was the only secret child there.

“Ha ha, no need to beg, let alone ask. I’ll be there in a jiffy once I know where you guys are. Just try and hang in there kid.” Voice on the other side commented in lighter tone.

Marvel let out a sigh. He knew that everything would be okay after all.

“Thanks dad. We are currently stuck on Metropolis in it’s central, it’s a complete mess in here.”

“Everything will be fine. See you soon.” The voice chuckled and cut the call.

Yes, everything would be just fine. He turned to call out to the idiots who looked to be near ripping each other a new one.

“You two can stop now, he’s already on his way!”

He had to wince at the speed which the blonde turned his head to stare at him. Then came the familiar cursing.

“Fucking shite!”

He merely rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in irritation. He glared at the magician.

“Seriously, what’s your problem? It doesn’t have to be this difficult you know.”

Before John could comment, Batman pushed pass and stalked up to Marvel.

“Who did you call?”

He couldn’t say much before more of their fellow heroes started to trickle in. Flash no surprise being the first.

“Hope you got something up your utility belt Bats, we can’t take this much longer.” Pleaded the red speedster. He was joined by Green Lantern carrying injured Superman and ouch did he look roughened up.

“Have to agree with Flashpoint. Were running out of juice fast, and even Big Blue is out cold.”

Marvel looked at the others coming in. Martian Manhunter, Zatara, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and even Doctor Fate was there, none of them looking any better.

“Well, I’m glad to announce that help is on their way so we can all sit back and relax for a bit. This will be over in no time.” He declared brightly.

The others goggled at him like he made the most outlandish statement in all of history, minus Constantine who has decided to use this small window of calm to drown his headache in his flask while he still can.

“What the hell are you on about? What help? Who could possibly help with this!” Flash yelled out the question in everybodies mind.

“I would like to known this too finally.” Batman demanded this as well.

Seeing everybody hanging onto his up coming explanation he smirked at John who gave him oh-so-eloquently middle finder in retaliation. Well to bad, he would have to just deal with it, the big baby.

“Oh nobody too important, just the most powerful and influential being in all multiverse. Some of you might know him by his monikers like the First Champion, the Balancer, the High King and the Great One.” He said flippantly as he pretended to check his nails, trying his absolute best to hid his smug smile when he noticed Zatara and Fate going rigid and pale.

Zatara near stumbled thanks to his shaking knees. He took couple faltering steps towards the Champion of Magic. His expression mix of reverence and fear as started to whisper as if dreading that someone or something might hear him if he spoke too loudly.

“Y-You couldn’t possibly mean King-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence for they all felt the change in the air, in the ground.

He has arrived.

Time came to a crawl, the world slowed it’s movements in face of approaching force. It quaked, it trembled, it slithered. Leak becoming a downpour, a tear in reality of sickly green opened above the group, high out of reach. What little light still had remained in the hellish landscape around them were drained as if all the world’s shadow congregated around the opening to greet its master like a deprived servant. Then a figure of black and white caped in light seemingly holy, descended from it. Even from afar they could distinguish their towering form who’s muscles failed to hide under its full-body armor. Their mountainous presence becomes more and more apparent the closer they came. What they thought as wings of pure and white was actually a cape of moving light.

Blazing green eyes as that of the tear gazed upon them from under their moonlight hair, which coupled with the iron grown of flames created figures of shadow dancing across their hardened features as if to praise their beholder’s glory.

Zatara had already collapsed on the ground in utter disbelieve. All the myths and legends were true all along.

“King Phantom.” He spoke in awe and bowed before the king as did equally shocked Doctor Fate.

“Hi dad!” Marvel yelled and dragged the laughing magician by his coat to greet their new arrival.

All of their associates looked between the clear powerhouse of a being and their red heavy hitter in utter incredulity at the revelation. Zatara and Fate near had a heart attack at the way their magical colleague addressed the mythical presence. Marvel had a father? And this horrifying existence was it? What sent them reeling even more was how the king’s responded.

With his arms stretched he lowered himself fully to gather the two smaller men in his embrace.

“Kids! Boy, when you said that you needed help bad I think you might have underestimated a tiny bit.” He joked with a toothy smile as he moved to get a better look at his more-or-less willing captees of his affection. His expression softened even more at the face of Constantine, not the others could see.

“John, it’s so good to see you as well.” He said softly and ruffled both of their hairs, eliciting a laugh from his youngest and indignant pout from his fourth oldest who tried to swat the offending hand away.

“Whatever.” John growled but Phantom didn’t mind since he could see the blush caking his scratched up cheeks.

Now this drew his attention, both of his boys were in horrendous shape and he would do something about it after his job was completed. Looking at the blood willed sky no longer colored by his green and the burning wreckage that is this dimensions earth, he knew he didn’t have much time.

“I suppose we should get this over with then. You two better get back to the Keep after this, understood.” He stated and then was gone just like that.

Now that the oppressive feeling of death and power has left along with the godly being, every single one of the heroes present turned to the two for explanation. Marvel send a pleading look towards his brother, but John pointedly turned away and began to nurse his briefly forgotten drink which was now empty, damn you dad.

Discreetly gulping his nerves down he twirled to face his peers.

“Okay, let’s start with one question at a time please.”

This caused the floodgates to open and Zatara practically jumped him in his feverishness.

“You are a son of King Phantom? The King Phantom? I thought he was nothing more than a myth! A legend told through out several histories!”

As Marvel was trying to dislodge the man he was approached by Doctor Fate.

“I too held the believe that he was nothing more than a story to strike fear onto the forces of evil and to aspire heroes of both old and new. To think he was real this entire time.” He mused, and before Marvel could say anything, Flash barged in as well.

“And what about you John? This might be the first time I’ve seen any otherworldly being be happy to see you.” He pointed at the man who chose to wisely stay far behind.

“Fuck you too!” Shouts the offended man from the back. Even if it’s true doesn’t make it any less rude. And oh look here comes Batman.

“Enough! Marvel, explain.” He demands as he moves effortlessly to the front of the pack.

“Well… you see-” Marvel stammers as he tries under the pressure to come up with something to say but was thankfully saved by the sky shifting again.

As quick as a snap the red sky was returned to its blue color, signaling the King’s victory over his enemy. Marvel smiled widely and even John couldn’t stop a heavy sigh of relieve from escaping his mouth. Good old dad, always up to any task he comes across.

“Incredible.” Wonder Woman gasped, even Lantern had to give an impressed eyebrow at the instant change in atmosphere. And while everyone was distracted by his dad’s handiwork, Marvel shimmied his way to the grumpy magician who was in progress of making his getaway.

“I think we should continue this some other time, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do and me and my bro need to do a little house call. So bye!” He called out with a wave as he was crabbed and transported to their destination before anyone could stop them.

Others could do more than blink as Batman stewed in his place. In Lantern’s arms Superman began to stir.

“H-huh, what did I miss?”

[tame-the-lion-writes]

FLUFF TIME!! (While I’m in class don’t mind me) Reader and her boys surrounding her, everytime she heads to bed the boys follow, and when she has to get up, they whine (Soap). Why is she leaving? Isn’t it cuddle/eepy time?? Whenever she has delivery and has to receive it at the door (and has to leave in bed) they whine but follow anyways.

9/10 chance one of them tugs her clothe towards the bedroom because they are eepy and want to sleeb and that means it’s also her sleeb time.

Imagine she to take work home and is in bed typing in her laptop at 1 AM (while the sound of the keyboard is luring them to sleep, the light is a bother). One of them just pushes the laptop close and softly borks (it is past eepy time)

(I, too, am currently in class as I write this, and should probably pay more attention because we're covering Fourth Amendment rights BUT ANYWAY—also combining this with another Anon’s ask bc they were talking about their German Shepherd getting them to bed on time lol)

The boys may be strange and chaotic, but they're always hell bent on taking care of you. And that often means forcing you to take care of yourself.

Before them, you were just barely clinging to life. Now that you were out of university, there was no rigid routine to keep you in line, so you kinda just... fell apart. An inconsistent sleep schedule with 2-3 hour naps in the afternoon, only to stay up 'til 4 AM. Skipping breakfast because some days, you'd wake up at 11. And on days when you did have breakfast, it would just be a leftover slice of cake or pie, because you didn't wanna cook.

Things have gotten much better since you adopted these weird floofsters, seen as you've finally set an alarm so you can walk them in the morning, and are forced to buy groceries on a regular basis. Still, that doesn't mean there aren't tougher days when you fall back into old habits. That's when the boys come to the rescue.

Nobody eats until you eat. It's like a pact between them—even Soap refuses, and he's the most voracious eater. Price also insists that you eat properly—even when you're picky, he'll refuse to budge unless you grab some fruits and veggies from the supermarket. And Gaz straight up sneaks snacks into your cart when you're not looking, so you only notice when you're already in the check-out line, and it would be rude to go back. They also tug on your clothes or nip you to get you to bed on time.

You’re allowed no less than seven hours of sleep minimum—and bed is, at latest, midnight. Whereas the other boys are more occupied with taking care of your daytime activities, Ghost, true to his breed’s instincts, herds you at night; he’s the first to follow you out of bed if you try and sneak away, and he WILL stare creepily at you while blocking the doorway if you attempt to leave the room. The intimidation is extra effective in the dark and you see those reflective eyes peering out from the shadows. At first, you panicked and threw a blanket at him so he'd stop with his cryptid-ness. Nowadays, you throw the blanket over yourself, knowing he’s not gonna let you crawl back to your laptop.

You've tried to control his herding instincts by following tips on YouTube and Reddit, but it's like bargaining with a brick wall. Sleep—or else.

[decojellyfish]

Whimper

Hi everypony! This is the official part 2 of Bite!

You guys have no idea how much I appreciate all the love I've been getting for my past fics! Thank you all so much :)

------ Hybrid AU! TF141

Retired Fight Dog! Ghost, Soap, and Gaz x Retired Fight Dog! GN! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as ‘you’

SFW ~ Angst to fluff

Warnings: Very brief/occasional swearing, mentions of self-hatred and depression

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Come Wander with Me - Jeff Alexander" 0:09 ━●────────── 2:47 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

───♡───────────── Beginning It had been a week since you’d run away from the Price household. You couldn’t bring yourself to ever turn around, to ever look back at the house. You temporarily returned to your old lifestyle, hiding in the shadowy alleyways, dumpster diving for food, etc. But as the days passed, the guilt and shame would eat away at you. Your portions of garbage food would grow smaller and smaller before you gave up on eating altogether.

Any kind of food, no matter how clean or rotten it was, never felt like it was deserved. You would rot away in a pool of disgrace, staring up at the sky. Whether it was the middle of the day or two in the morning, you were lying in a dirty alley and gazing at the never-ending sky. You couldn’t even retreat to your happy place, it was corrupted now. Whenever you tried to run into escapism, you were abruptly snatched back into reality as images of your attack flashed across your mind.

You weren’t deserving of your happy place anyway. You were given a chance to live in a warm home, warm fresh food whenever you wanted it, clean clothes, and even a bath. And you threw it all away because you were too scared, you couldn’t escape the past. You would rather stay willfully trapped in the past than lean into the future’s welcoming arms. You had practically slapped the future in the face. Spit in its face, even.

You couldn’t go back there, not after what you did.

The boys had been looking for you, any chance they had. You knew this because you had close run-ins with them before you would run as far away as you could from your current alleyway. You were right back where you started—square one. You hated square one, but now, you felt like you deserved to be permanently chained to it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The Price household was barely holding it together. That faithful afternoon, when Price and Gaz returned from their trip to the grocery store. Price had worried he left the door open, then seeing Soap’s patched-up state and Ghost residing on the couch, his head in his hands. Until that is when Ghost and Soap retold what happened. Albeit, Soap interrupting constantly with tears in his eyes.

He felt that it was all his fault. He was the one who reached out to you, violating your comfort zone without even realizing it. Soap just wanted to scoop you up in a tight bear hug, with your consent, and apologize to you over and over again. None of them knew where you were. Your scent was hard to track down, even for Soap or Ghost. Nevertheless, they would all look for you whenever they were out. Sometimes even Gaz would stay up late, ruining his sleep routine as he stared out the window, hoping he could see you in the distance.

He never did, but that didn’t make him give up. When he came back home from the grocery store that day, Gaz was so excited to share his favorite treats with you. The box of treats remained on the countertop, waiting to be opened. Gaz was waiting for you to come home to open it, like a welcome (back) home surprise.

Even Price would lay awake at night, wondering where you were. Which alley you were in, what you had found to eat. Sometimes he would wonder if you were even alive at this point. The first place he thought to check was the pound, maybe you’d turn yourself in. Next, he checked the shelter, maybe you were brought there. But alas, you were nowhere to be found.

Ghost was even starting to sneak out at night, patrolling the area for any sign of you. Soap would often tag along with him, he felt that since he was responsible for your departure, he was equally responsible for seeking you out and bringing you back.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The sun was beginning to rise. The sky, hour by hour, gradually brightened up from dark indigo to light blue. It had been nearly two weeks since your sudden escape. You were sure that you were far away from the Price household, maybe even a town away from them. Waiting for the day to pass again like it had the other ones, your monotonous schedule was interrupted by a little sound. A little ‘clink’.

Looking over, you saw an ivory plate with four treats on it. You looked up, finding the perpetrator who dared to give you food. It was a woman, she looked kind. But you felt that her kindness was deserved elsewhere, maybe for another hybrid that didn’t fuck up the chances the universe gave them.

“Go on, sweetie.” She smiled at you, “It’s okay to eat, you look hungry.” She was knelt by your seated form, showing no signs of leaving. After nearly thirty minutes of just staring at the woman, the plate of treats, and a spot on the sidewalk, you hesitantly approached the plate. Grabbing a treat, you looked up at her, almost as if wanting her approval. “There you go, eat up.” Her voice was like a campfire, warm and safe.

You had slowly eaten all the treats and now, were following the woman like a lost puppy. Well, you kind of were one. Only that you were willfully lost. Your sunken eyes followed her as she walked up the few steps of a hybrid shelter.

Staying at the bottom of the stairs, you looked up at her as you began to protest. “Oh, no, I- I don’t need a home…” “Well of course you do, lovie.” She smiled down at you, not understanding what was going on in your head. Of course, everyone needs a home, it’s just that you were a bad pup. Bad pups don’t deserve homes or food. You only ate the food she offered you because she wouldn’t leave you alone.

“C’mon, pup, it’d nothing to be scared of. Everyone is deserving of a warm place.” She smiled down at you, quickly trotting down the steps and grasping your hand. Despite your constant protests and objections, she pulled you into the building and you were suddenly hit with so many smells of different hybrids. It was overwhelming, you wanted to leave more than you already did. But you were now in the custody of the shelter, there was no getting away now.

At the shelter, you didn’t do much. You didn’t do anything. You never left your cage, you always had your back turned to everyone but the wall, even when sleeping. Even in captivity, you didn’t eat, didn’t play, and you never communicated. There was even a rumor around the shelter that you didn’t have a voice or face. That was only with the new members, though. It’d been another week since you were brought here, and you were growing more and more hopeless by the day.

Why? Why was the universe giving you more and more chances? You’d only end up throwing them away, why wasn’t the all-knowing universe catching on?

You didn’t get it. You didn’t get why they kept trying to feed you, replacing the uneaten food in your bowl with new food. Food that would also stay uneaten. You didn’t get why they made sure you drank at least a little water each day. You didn’t get why they cared. Why did they care about you so much?

Why did they care so much about someone who threw away every chance they got, because they couldn’t trust anything supposedly good in this world?

You had grown quiet. What was once a fearsome fighter dog, one that was well known for their vigor and bloodthirst, was now a meek little pup. Scared, not knowing what they did to deserve this life, this pain, this distrust of every single being around them. You would find yourself getting angry again, angry that you didn’t get a cozy life like the other pups, and when you were offered one, you ran away.

Bad pup. Bad pup. Bad pup. It repeated in your head like some twisted earworm that had engraved its home into your brain.

Unfortunately, your only outlet for this anger was your tears. But you didn’t want anyone to hear your suffering. You still wanted to be seen as a scary fighter. So you waited till everyone in the shelter was asleep, this meant everyone, so you would end up waiting till three or four in the morning to just silently cry your heart out.

You would grip at your hair and the clothes you still got from Price, and you would sometimes clutch your entire face as you desperately hid it to muffle your sobs and hiccups. You would cry for an hour or two, then you would be asleep by sunrise. It was your little routine by now. Hey, at least that meant you were getting used to this place.

Sometimes, there were nights when you would cry harder than other nights. Mostly ones where a hybrid was adopted, a constant reminder as to how unwanted you were, or the ones where you couldn’t stop the constant flashes of your past fights. All of them. Ones with actual fighter dogs, ones with domesticated dogs that were just trying to live their lives, and Soap. None of them deserved what you did, not even the fighters that wounded you that you ended up wounding back just as harshly if not, worse. They didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. Soap didn’t deserve to be the victim of your outburst. No one did.

You didn’t deserve this life, you didn’t deserve to be a bad pup. You didn’t want to be a bad pup anymore. You would desperately cry out to the universe, in your head, that you didn’t want to be a bad pup anymore. You wanted to be a good pup. You wanted to play in the park with other dogs, you wanted to have a bath every week, to go on walks, to eat your favorite treats, to wear your own clothes that didn’t have holes from rotting away. To have a kind owner.

You wanted Price. You wanted Gaz, and Soap, and Ghost. You wanted to take back that chance, you would plead every night to get it back.

But as much as you wanted to get that chance back, it didn’t come.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price never stopped his search. None of the boys did. But while the boys would sleep throughout the night, Price was now spending his time in bed constantly searching for any sign of you on his computer.

Finally, he came across a photo of you. He had to do a double-take when he saw the date of the photo. It was recent, and you were still wearing the t-shirt from your first day at the home. He had to make sure he didn’t wake up any of the boys with the slight cry of joy and relief he let out at the revelation that you were safe and in a shelter.

He made sure to save the address of where you were. It surprised him that you were so far from his home, but he was happy you looked like you were safe at the moment.

That morning, Price was up and early. Already dressed, he began to cook breakfast for his boys. They all had their morning routine of having breakfast and usually chatting with each other. Gaz and Soap, however, had grown quiet the past few weeks. Price and Ghost could tell they were heavily affected by your disappearance, Soap was more guilty than Gaz was saddened as well as missing you.

Price would interrupt the difficult silence that they’d all grown accustomed to with a clearing of his throat. “I’ll be out for a while today. I’ll be visiting an old friend.” He didn’t want to say who he was seeing specifically as that would make all the pups want to come with him. It would overwhelm you if all the dogs came in with him just to see you. He knew you would need a slow reintroduction to the idea of becoming domesticated.

A few murmurs of acknowledgment made their way around the table as the boys ate their breakfast. It was clear they were all trapped in their heads, stuck in their thoughts.

An hour later, Price got in his car and drove to the shelter where you currently resided.

He stepped into the building, already beginning his search for you again. He looked at each cage, wondering which one you were in. It wasn’t until he had finally caught a glimpse of a familiar t-shirt that he let out a sigh of relief. Kneeling by your cage, he carefully watched your back slowly rise and fall with each breath you took. He could vividly imagine the empty look on your face, how you were trapped in your head and stuck with your thoughts.

Price couldn’t blame you for wanting to be alone, he could sense the guilt dripping off of your curled-up form.

“Hey there, pup.” He spoke softly, you could hear a little smile in his voice too. You couldn’t help yourself, you looked over your shoulder at his gruff face. You did it so quickly that it made Price chuckle a bit, “Yes, it’s me. The old man.” He joked, running a hand over his facial hair. You stayed quiet, your head returning to its original position of staring at the back of your cage.

Letting out a little sigh, Price got slightly comfortable by your cage. “...the boys and I, we- we’ve missed you. We’ve been lookin’ all over town for you…” He continued to speak with a soft tone, his voice almost like a gentle, forgiving embrace. “I wanted to let you know that- we’re not mad at you. Nobody is, not even Soap. He misses you, I think, the most.” He laughed a little. “I know you’re scared, pup, I don’t blame you. You and the boys came from a very scary and cruel place. I’ve seen, multiple times, what that kind of life can do to a dog.”

Looking over at you, Price took in your tired appearance. “What you did… yes, it was bad. But you were scared. You did what you felt was necessary to protect you.” He paused. “Soap feels guilty himself, he didn’t mean to set you off. And he wants nothing more than to apologize for himself, and forgive you too.”

“He wants nothing more than to keep you safe. You know, he’s already been going on and on about being your guard dog when going on walks and at the park.” He laughed a little, looking over at you again.

That made you think to yourself. Soap wanted to protect you. Soap, the dog that you violently attacked in a fit of fight or flight senses that flooded your brain at that moment. It made you feel even more guilty, causing you to clutch at your shirt as a form of biting back the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“Now, you have every right to answer this question however you please, okay?” He looked at you, noticing how you looked over at him again, a subtle sense of curiosity in your dull eyes.

“Would you like a second chance to come back home?”

You were riddled with embarrassment as you followed Price out of the shelter, your tail could not stop wagging. And it was wagging hard. Your tough exterior was being betrayed by your brain, directly wired to your tail and making it wag like you had just one first place at a dog show.

It didn’t stop even when you were seated in Price’s car, audibly swishing against the material of the car seat. You were just so happy. You were happy Price had given you a second chance, the universe gave you a second chance to have a go at this whole domestication thing. After you had convinced yourself you weren’t deserving of one, the one person who you wanted a second chance from had come in and given it to you.

You weren’t going to mess it up this time, you weren’t going to lash out, you were going to see your old foes as new friends, and you were going to cherish this second chance for the rest of your life.

Price chuckled at your swishing tail, putting his phone down after sending a text. “I’m glad you’re happy, pup. You deserve to be.” He smiled at you, his thick, greyish mustache curling as if smiling too. He put on some jazzy radio station and began to drive back home. He even held your hand for comfort, after he offered his hand over the cupholders anyway. “It’s gonna be okay, dear. You’re gonna be okay.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The boys were all waiting by the front door, waiting for you to step through that door at any moment. After Gaz had received a text from Price, saying that he’d found you and was bringing you back, he had quickly informed the other two. Gaz had taken the liberty of setting up your little bed on the couch, lighting a little ocean-scented candle on the coffee table, and even setting a small plate of his favorite treats next to the said candle. The treats were just for you, like a little welcome-home gift.

His only orders for Ghost and Soap were to look sharp, making sure they weren’t still in their pajamas when you arrived, as well as having Soap fix up his mohawk.

Once all was said and done, the house was ready for your long-awaited return, the boys stood near the front door with bated breaths as they waited to hear Price’s car pulling into the driveway. It was about five minutes of waiting when they finally heard a vehicle arriving at the house.

Gaz’s tail was wagging, he was excited to greet you and hold you once again, happy that you were now safe and sound. Ghost was happy too, not as much as Gaz was, but still happy to have you back with the rest of the group. He was a little excited to see how you would adapt to a domesticated life, he could tell you were starting to like it before you left.

Soap was nervous, almost terrified. His tail was halfway tucked between his legs as he tried to maintain a good posture. He didn’t know what your reaction was going to be to see him again, he could already see you adamant on avoiding him like a virus. Maybe even barking at him to leave you alone, calling him a bad dog. In his eyes, he was a bad dog. He didn’t respect your boundaries when you were just settling in, he was the main reason you were gone in the first place. As much as he tried to keep himself straightened up, his eyes were full of shame, guilt, and worry.

The front door would open with a quiet click of the handle, and a tiny creak as it opened. Price was the first to step inside, letting you come in at your own pace. As you entered, you would look at the boys with surprised eyes. You hadn't expected them to be waiting for you, you thought they would be doing things around the house.

Gaz was smiling from ear to ear, opening up his arms as he silently asked for a hug. Taking a bit to get used to being in the house again, you eventually walked closer to him, accepting his embrace. “Welcome back, friend…” He hummed, resting his head on your shoulder as he closed his eyes. You slowly returned the hug, wrapping your arms around his broad frame with a gentle squeeze.

After nearly a minute, the two of you parted from one another. Ghost would gently pat and rub at your shoulder, a silent way of welcoming you back. “Good to see you back. We missed you.” It was the first time you’d seen Ghost smile at you. It felt… strange. But in a warm, welcoming way. Those three words nearly tore you up, ‘we missed you’. After weeks of imagining the group saying ‘good riddance’, ‘finally, they’re gone’, and ‘I never thought they’d leave’ constantly in your tortured mind, ‘we missed you’ blew all those thoughts away. It made you tear up, but you managed to blink them back and gulp down that burning lump in your throat.

You turned your gaze to Soap. The minute you locked eyes with each other, it was almost as if all your guilt and shame were shared with him, and his was shared with you. The day you saw Soap cry seemed to be an impossible thought. But it was happening right in front of you. Although he wasn’t a sobbing mess, you could tell he was holding back. And you were sniffling just as much.

With a deep shaky breath, he mustered up the courage to finally tell you what he’d been choking back ever since you’d run away.

“I’m sorry, pup. I’m sorry for not respectin’ your boundaries. I should’ve known you needed a bit o’ space, especially around Ghost and I. I- I just-” He sniffled, regaining himself when he felt his voice cracking. “I just wanted you t’ know that you’re safe here. No more fights, no more fear, no more worryin’ about when your next meal is gonna be. I just wanted you t’ feel safe, I… I want you t’ know that you’re safe, pup. We all are.” He sighed.

When Soap finally looked back up at you, staring at the ground in shame, he saw you choking back tears and sobs that were tearing at your throat. His eyes widened, “Are you okay, pup…? ‘M sorry if I said anythin’ that made you feel- bad.”

You shook your head in response, “No, no… I’m sorry too.” You wiped at your eyes as you sniffled. “I shouldn’t’ve freaked out on you like that. I had zero right to attack you, to hurt you the way I did that night. Especially after all you guys have done for me. I just- felt so guilty, I couldn’t come back. I thought all of you were gonna be so mad at me, you were just gonna kick me right out onto the streets again.” Your voice began to shake and crack, and your concrete walls began to crumble down. “I didn’t wanna face that, so I figured I could just do it all for you guys.” You hid your face away into your hands.

“I don’t feel deserving of the food, of these clothes, of anything you offer me.” You sobbed. “Not after what I’ve done, what I did.”

Soap watched the way your scarred ears folded back against your head, your tail nearly tucking itself between your legs, the way your shoulders shook with every uneven breath you took in or let out. He lightly brushed his calloused hand against one of your arms, making you look up at him with your red, puffy eyes.

“...do you need a hug?”

Your throat burned more than it ever did, causing you to whimper and nod as you began to audibly sob and cry, not being able to hold back anymore. Soap opened his arms and held you. He held you in such a gentle, forgiving way, that it was almost as if you were made of thin porcelain. Clinging onto him, you sobbed into his shirt. Your muffled cries and violent hiccups were soothed by one of his hands slowly caressing circles into your back.

“You do deserve all these nice things, pup. With all th’ shit you’ve put up with?” He chuckled slightly. “You deserve it all…” He smiled down at you, softly nuzzling into your hair.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Putting on a new set of clothes that Price had gotten you from the store, you stepped out of the bathroom after having your first bath back. They were comfy, nice, soft, and baggy too like wearable blankets. You had snuggled into your makeshift bed that Gaz had set up, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders.

Gaz happily watched as you tried the treats he’d set out for you, his tail wagging when you gave him a nod of approval. “Don’t spoil dinner just yet, pup. Food’s here!” Price called out from the front door. Price decided it was an order-in kind of night, so the group settled on take-out Chinese food.

Soap and Ghost made sure to handle the food order, their appetites combined making them wannabe food critics. Your mouth watered when the smell of it hit your sensitive nose, as well as the other dogs. Soap had also picked out a movie for the group to watch on this special night, he loved movies.

The group was sitting around the coffee table, their plates and mouths full of delicious food. Yours too. You were all sitting silently, captivated by the adventure unfolding before your eyes on the TV screen. For a brief moment, you were brought back to reality when you went to stab some more food with your fork.

You took the moment to look around. You were surrounded by what would be your new family, all in warm clothes, with nice hot food in your stomachs, and a nice warm home with decent air conditioning.

You were clean, you weren’t hungry, and your wounds from the streets had been taken care of. The you from a few months ago wouldn’t believe it, even you couldn’t believe it a little bit. That you were safe. You were looked after. You were loved.

And you deserved it all. ───♡───────────── End

Again, thank you so much for the love and support! If you have any requests or asks, feel free to submit them!

------ Taglist: @venavanup @draculauraspage @tf141gloryhole @obnoxiousbag @chanel-princess-world @ssc7514

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[nhlclover]

𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: after luke lets you slip away the first time, he's destined to not let you slip away again.

warnings: cute fluff, awkward dialogue

word count: 2.77k

You were the face of Michigan Athletics.

Michigan wasn’t exactly known for its soccer program, but when you committed there, all eyes were on them. You were set to be their crown jewel athlete, bringing them their first national championship.

And in Luke’s opinion, they couldn’t have picked a better face.

You’d met at a pre-season party the soccer team threw during Luke’s freshman year. As the women's soccer team captain, you took on the hosting duties. Luke spotted you across the room almost immediately. You stood out in the crowd, not just because you were the host, but because you had an undeniable presence. Effortlessly charismatic, you moved through the room with ease, greeting everyone with a warm smile. Every new person you spoke to laughed easily at what you said, drawn in by your charm.

Luke stood by the kitchen counter, nursing his drink, his eyes following your every move. He noticed how you moved from group to group, person to person, finding conversation with every one of them. Luke didn’t even know if you personally knew all of them, but it seemed like you were best friends with everyone.

"Hey, Luke! Are you having a good time?" Brendan, one of the sophomore players, clapped him on the back, pulling him out of his trance.

Luke smiled, though his eyes drifted back to you. "Yeah, man. Great party."

Brendan followed his gaze and grinned knowingly. “Ah, I see you spotted y/n,” he said, sighing. “Not gonna happen, buddy.”

Luke furrowed his brows, turning to look at Brendan. “What? Why not?”

Brendan chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s… she’s like the sun. You know, everyone’s drawn to her, but no one gets close. She’s got a lot on her plate—captain of the team, top of her class, always involved in something.”

Luke glanced back at you, captivated by the way you laughed with the group you were with, your laughter ringing above the crowd's conversation. “She seems really nice,” he said, more to himself than to Brendan.

“Oh, she is,” Brendan agreed. “Nicest person you'll ever meet. But no chance in hell is she going for a freshman.”

Luke nodded, still not taking his eyes off you. Brendan patted him on the shoulder again. “Don’t get too hung up on her, bud. Enjoy the party. Plenty of other people to meet.” With that, he wandered off to join a group of his friends.

Maybe Brendan was right. Maybe you don’t go for freshman. But there was something about you that made Luke want to try anyway. He watched as you finally took a break from mingling and headed towards the kitchen. His heart pounded in his chest as you approached, and he decided to take a chance.

“Hey,” he said, mustering up his most confident smile as you reached the counter. “I’m Luke. Great party, by the way.”

You looked up, meeting his eyes with a warm smile that made his heart race even more. “Hey, Luke, I’m y/n. Thanks, I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” you said, your voice sweet. “I don’t recognize you… you must be a freshman.”

Luke chuckled slightly, nodding. “Yeah, yeah I am. I’m on the men's hockey team, actually.”

"So, how are you finding Michigan so far? Adjusting okay?"

Luke smiled, grateful for the shift in focus. "It’s been great so far. A bit overwhelming, but in a good way. The guys on the team have been really welcoming."

"That’s good to hear," you said, genuinely pleased. "The first year can be a lot, but it sounds like you’re handling it well."

A sudden chorus of shouts from just outside the kitchen ripped the both of you out of the conversation. You looked over your shoulder, seeing your friends waving you over, before returning your gaze to Luke. “Looks like I’m needed. But it was really nice talking to you, Luke. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.” You shot him a genuine smile before slipping out of the kitchen and into the crowd.

You saw each other a little bit during Luke’s two years there, short little conversations at parties or brief interactions in the athletic facilities at Michigan. But Luke never made his move. He’d think about it every time you interacted, but could never muster up the courage to say ‘Hey, y/n, wanna go out sometime?’. Then before he knew it, New Jersey had signed him, and he’d lost his chance.

That was until you had posted a photo, announcing that you had signed a contract with Gotham FC, the women's soccer team based out of New York and New Jersey. It felt like fate to Luke that the two of you wound up in the same city again. His heart raced as he stared at the photo, and Luke would be damned if he was going to let you slip away again.

A couple of games into the season, the team was informed that you, Gotham FC’s newest signing, would be doing the ceremonial puck drop. It felt as if the world was dropping a fated encounter right in Luke’s lap. Luke had let it slip to the Devil's PR team that he knew you and they pulled some strings to set up him being involved in the puck drop.

When he watched you step onto the ice adorning a Devil's jersey, Luke felt his breath catch in his throat. His crush came soaring back as if no time had passed.

He watched as you graced towards center ice, waving towards the cheering fans. Your lips parted widely, displaying the same genuine and bright smile that he remembered. The moment you reached the end of the red carpet, your eyes met him, and a flicker of recognition passed between you. Luke managed to smile, though his heart was pounding as if he was about to play in the biggest game of his life.

“Hey, y/n,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the nerves that ran through his veins. “Welcome to Jersey.”

You smiled back, eyes twinkling. “Thanks, Luke. It’s good to see a familiar face.”

After the puck dropped, Luke lingered on the ice, watching as you were ushered off by Devil's staff and taken behind the bench. He couldn’t shake the interaction you’d had; the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, the way your voice sounded when you said his name. It was as if all the feelings he'd buried deep down were rushing back, more intense than ever before.

The feeling didn’t shake even as the game started. Every time he finished a shift, he couldn’t help but glance into the stands, hoping to catch a glimpse of your face. He wondered what you were thinking, if you even remembered those small moments you’d shared back in Michigan, or if you felt the same connection that he did now.

The Devils ended up securing a win, but even as his teammates celebrated around him, Luke found his mind elsewhere. As he finished his post-game routine, towelling off the sweat and changing into his street clothes, Luke spotted the team’s media coordinator stick her head into the room before walking over to him. “Hey Luke, you have a visitor,” she said, a knowing smile tugging on her lips.

Luke’s heart skipped a beat, hoping it was you. He quickly ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to calm his nerves. When he stepped out into the hallway, there you were, leaning against the wall with that same bright smile.

“Hey,” you greeted, pushing off the wall and walking toward him.

“Hey,” Luke responded, a little breathless. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes. “Figured I’d stop by and congratulate you on the win.”

“Ah, well, thank you,” Luke replied.

“I think it’s only fair that you come to a Gotham game now that I’ve been to a Devils game.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me with a good time.”

As you chatted, his teammates began to trickle out of the locker room, noticing the unfamiliar face. Jack was the first to approach, Dawson and Jesper close behind, throwing a curious glance between the two of you.

“Luke, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Jack teased, already smirking.

Luke rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Guys, this is y/n. She’s with Gotham FC now. We knew each other back at Michigan.”

Introductions were made, and you were instantly welcomed into the group, the guys bombarding you with questions about soccer and your new team. You handled it with ease, laughing and chatting as if you had known them for years. You had the same effect on them as the rest of the people you met.

Luke tried to focus on the conversation, but his thoughts kept drifting to how much he wanted to talk to you alone. The banter with his teammates was fun, but he couldn’t help feeling like this was his chance to finally make a move — something he’d regretted not doing back in Michigan.

As the group talked, Luke started to think about how he could get the guys to back off for a bit. Jack was already trying to dig into their history, jokingly asking, “So, Luke, did you ever tell her how you used to—”

“Hey, Jack,” Luke interrupted, shooting his brother a look that clearly said don’t even think about it. “How about you head on home? I’ll catch up with you guys later, alright?”

Jesper raised a brow, catching on to what Luke was getting at. “Yeah, yeah, we’re off. We’ll see you later. It was nice meeting you, y/n.”

Jack attempted to argue, wanting to bug his little brother a little more, but was ushered away by Jesper and Dawson. Once they were out of earshot, Luke turned back to you, his nerves kicking up a notch. Luke shifted awkwardly on his feet, running a hand through his still-damp hair as he tried to steady his nerves. The hallway felt quieter now, the absence of his teammates making the moment between you two more intimate, more charged. He could feel the weight of the opportunity, the chance to say something he’d been holding back for years.

“I uh… I was wondering if you’d uh… want to maybe get a drink with me or something?” Luke stammered out.

A small grin tugged on your lips, Luke’s cheeks heating up and turning a light pink hue. “I’d love to.” you nodded. “But I hope you know a place, I’m still getting used to the area.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know a place,” Luke said.

Luke's mind was racing as you both left the arena together. The cool night air was a welcome relief against the lingering adrenaline from the game. He walked beside you, his hands stuffed into his pockets, trying to play it cool despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him. It had been years since he'd last felt this way — the same fluttering nerves and excitement that he used to push aside back at Michigan.

You both arrived at a cozy bar just a few blocks from the arena, a place Luke had frequented with his teammates. The atmosphere was relaxed, the dim lighting and soft chatter creating an intimate vibe that made it easier for Luke to settle his nerves.

As you both slid into a booth, Luke tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t come off as too eager. He knew this was his chance to finally make up for the lost opportunities in Michigan, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“Nice spot,” you commented, glancing around with an approving nod. “It reminds me of that place in Michigan, Paulies?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, trying to ignore the way his heart sped up every time you looked at him. “Figured it’d be a nice spot to catch up, you know?”

“I’m glad you asked me out tonight,” you said, your eyes meeting his in a way that made his heart skip a beat. “I always wondered if we’d get another chance to hang out.”

The comment caught Luke off guard, and he blinked in surprise. “Really? You wondered that?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a soft laugh. “I mean, we didn’t really get to know each other that well at Michigan, but there was always this… I don’t know, this connection, I guess. I always thought we’d hang out more, but then things got busy… y’know you with hockey, me with soccer… and well, you know how it goes.”

Luke felt a warmth spread through his chest, your words giving him the confidence he needed. “I thought the same thing,” he confessed, his voice a little steadier now. “I always wanted to ask you out back then, but I just… never did. I don’t know, I guess I was scared or something.”

You tilted your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Scared? Of what?”

“I mean… c’mon y/n…” Luke chuckled but stopped when he met your sincere eyes. “You were always out of my league. I mean you were the captain of the soccer team, you were always on the Dean’s list, you are liked by everyone… I mean you met my teammates for five minutes and they were enthralled by you. Not to mention you’re like drop-dead gorgeous, I just…”

Luke stopped when he realized he was rambling, stopping also to catch his breath. You blinked, genuinely surprised by his admission. “Out of your league?” you echoed, leaning forward slightly. “Luke, what are you talking about?”

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but the vulnerability in his eyes was undeniable. He could hardly believe he was admitting this to you after all this time. A small laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“Luke,” you started, your voice soft but firm, “You’re tall, handsome, and you were destined to be a hockey player in the NHL. You’re one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. You were always kind, even in those brief moments we had back in Michigan. And when I moved here, I remembered you played her and I was hoping I’d run into you again because… well, I kind of had a crush on you too.”

Luke felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. He blinked, processing what you just said. “You… you did?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded again, your smile growing a little wider. “Yeah, I did. I mean, how could I not? You were always so genuine and down-to-earth, even when everyone else was trying to act like they were too cool. But I never thought you saw me like that.”

Luke couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. The weight of all the missed opportunities and the years of wondering seemed to lift in that moment. “I guess we were both kind of clueless, huh?” he said with a chuckle.

“Seems like it,” you agreed, laughing softly.

The laughter between you both faded into a comfortable silence as you locked eyes, the reality of your shared feelings settling in.

“Well,” Luke said, his voice a little more confident now, “I’m really glad we’re here now. And, y/n, I don’t want to let this chance slip by again. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and I’d really like to see where this could go.”

Your smile grew, your eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and warmth. “I’d like that too, Luke,” you replied, your voice sincere.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of easy conversation and shared laughter. As you both walked out of the bar, the city lights casting a soft glow on the streets, Luke couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. This was what he had wanted for so long, and now that it was finally happening, it felt even better than he’d imagined.

When you reached the corner where you’d have to part ways, Luke turned to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, can I take you out again? Maybe a proper date this time?” he asked, his tone light but hopeful.

You grinned, nodding. “I’d love that, Luke. And maybe next time, you can show me around more of the city.”

“It’s a date,” he said, his smile widening.

Luke bade you goodbye, turning on his heels and beginning down the street.

“Hey, Luke!” you called after him. Luke turned, locking eyes with yours that sparkled beneath the street lights. “Please don’t let me slip away again.”

[vivwritesfics]

Hello! I love your writing and just saw that your requests are open! I was wondering if you would be willing to write for norlestappen x reader something with a mix of fluff and spice maybe someone hits on the reader and they go into protective mode but another driver on the Grid is the readers brother and thinks that they're being TOO protective?

Thank you for all your writing and I hope you can do something with this mess if not I totally understand 😁

okay so they are a throuple throughout this, russell reader bc that's been on my mind

warnings: they get called toxic at one point

1. That time in the club - Charles

She wasn't even there with them, not technically anyway. They just also happened to be there, watching as she danced with her friends.

Lando looked all parts frat boy in the club: shirt open to reveal a bit of his chest and the necklaces he wore (one for his sister, one for his loves), and backwards snapback. Max was in his skinny years (you can take the boy out of the Netherlands, but not the Netherlands out of the boy). Charles had those stupid star jeans that he loved so much (and she loved them, too).

They weren't there to interrupt her night with her friends, but they were aware of just how pretty she was. It was kind of toxic, wasn't it? That they didn't want her in the club without them there to keep an eye on her.

But then that fucking guy came up to her.

Her friends had turned away for two seconds, walked up to the bar to get them all some drinks, and that guy took his chance.

Charles saw it first. He was laughing at something Max was saying when he saw the guy walk up to her and whisper something in her ear.

In an instant he'd shoved his drink into Lando's hand and strode over. His face was set in anger that wasn't usually seen outside of the race track as he pushed the guys hand away from her and pulled her in. "Can I help you?" He asked.

But, as soon as he said it, he turned away from the guy, small smile gracing his lips as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Is he bothering you?" He asked, but the guy couldn't hear him over the music.

"He's okay," she said and tipped his face towards her so that she could properly kiss him, so that the guy stood in front of them could she who she belonged to.

(As soon as she had kissed one of her boyfriends, she turned towards the other two. But she couldn't beckon them over and kiss them in front of this guy, not without him getting the wrong idea).

The guy backed away. "Crikey," she mumbled as soon as he had walked off. "I thought he'd never leave

2. That time in her Instagram DMs - Lando

When you have a super hot girlfriend, it shouldn't come as a surprise when people are sliding into her DMs.

It had happened a couple of times, and Lando, Max and Charles were always there to delete the messages from her inbox (she didn't have a PR team to look after her like her boyfriends and her brother did).

And, although she never ever answered, although she was very public with her relation ship with not one, not two, but three formula one drivers, people still tried.

Most of the time, people slipped through the cracks. It was easy to ignore the accounts constantly messaging her because, well, she just didn't care to answer.

But then she saw the accounts that popped up again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

She didn't mean to click on his DMs. Actually, Lando had sent a meme to the groupchat and she'd meant to click on that instead. But then his notification was at the top, where she was about to click. And she fucking clicked it.

It wasn't his messages that she saw first. No, it was a penis. A dick pic, that had been sitting in her DMs for... how long? As soon as it was on her screen she threw her phone and covered her mouth.

Taking a minute to recover she stood and walked to find Lando at his PlayStation. If this had been a few years ago, he would have been streaming. Thank God he wasn't.

"Lan," she said and sat on his lap. "This was your fault, you fix it."

He looked at her phone, and almost threw up. "How the fuck was this my fault?"

"If you hadn't sent that meme to the groupchat, I wouldn't have accidentally clicked this!"

But Lando still furrowed his brows at her. So, she explained it all to him (that this guy was one of those freaks that constantly messaged her).

Lando fixed it. He took a picture of himself, hood up, curls visible out the front of his hood, and middle finger up. The expression on his face was clearly unimpressed as he stared at the camera.

This is her boyf, fuck off

It was cringe and cliché, and she loved it. The guy in her DMs opened the picture instantly, and Lando blocked him.

He passed her phone back and she climbed onto his lap. "Thank youuuuuuu," she said and hissed his neck a couple of times.

Lando's hands settled on her hip. "No more opening dick pics unless they're from me, yeah?"

She agreed to that.

3. That time with George - Max

There was nothing worse than seeing her brothers car collide with one of her boyfriends. But, if it had to be one of them, why did it have to be Max?

Max, who got out of the car, fuming. Max, who couldn't be stopped by Lando or Charles as he marched over to George.

They got into a fight, one that was clearly about more than the crash. Nobody knew what either man had said. Lando rushed over, while Charles ran to her and pulled him against her, hiding her in his chest.

"She's my fucking sister!" George shouted as Lando got between them. "She's my sister and you treat her like you own her!" His eyes moved to Lando, and then to Charles. "All of you do."

She didn't know George had this kind of problem with her relationship. Of course, it didn't change anything. She loved them, she knew what there relationship was all about, and she was happy.

But her brother was still fighting with her boyfriend. She pulled away from Charles and strode over. "George!" She shouted, and her brother turned towards her. "What the fuck!"

"It's racing stuff."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid," she said. "I heard everything, you idiot."

"Oh," he said and stood up straight. "Well, I'm right, aren't I? Max wouldn't be trying to kick the shit out of me."

She frowned. "Is your problem that I'm dating them, or that they're protective?"

"Possessive."

"Protective."

"Possessive."

This went on for a little while. Max, Lando and Charles stood behind her, watching as the siblings went back and forth. When Charles laid his hand on her shoulder, she snapped back into it. "Right, yeah," she said and shook her head. "They're not possessive. Lando saved me from a guy with dick pic the other day, George! Or do you want me getting sent dick picks every five minutes."

George rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he said. "But-"

"Then shut the fuck up and stop trying to kill my boyfriend on track."

a/n: this one got away from me and i'm not proud of the ending lmao

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

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summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour 

notes:  speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild 

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well. 

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours. 

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it. 

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss. 

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster. 

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty. 

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse. 

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp. 

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got. 

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery. 

It was cute. 

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley. 

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over. 

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan. 

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name. 

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow. 

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.” 

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.” 

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.” 

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion. 

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.” 

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.” 

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly. 

“And that?” 

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did. 

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face! 

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered. 

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp. 

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill. 

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day. 

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go. 

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked. 

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.” 

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response. 

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes. 

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet. 

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable. 

But you really needed to pee. 

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door. 

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke. 

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!” 

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up. 

“Be quick.” 

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed. 

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan. 

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence. 

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.” 

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour. 

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.” 

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.” 

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t. 

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater. 

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be. 

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off. 

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?” 

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion. 

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe. 

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything. 

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.” 

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse. 

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?” 

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.” 

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on. 

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation. 

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow. 

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

[suugarbabe]

ballooning around | t.n x reader

warnings: fluff

word count: ~1.9k

a.n.: this is for my wives' @finalgirllx & @thatdammchickennugget jinxed july <3 this is for week one; water balloon prompt

Truly it was a marvel that you were functioning, with as hot as it seemed to be at the villa. Somehow, Theo had convinced all of you to spend two weeks with him in Italy at his parents' very large, very private (and very expensive) villa. You say somehow, but everyone knows that with just the smidgen of widening of his big ocean eyes and you’re a fucking goner, doing anything and everything your boyfriend asks or suggests. 

Pansy and yourself had decided that if you were stuck in the heat then you might as well also get bronze; the two of you choosing to lay out by the pool, oiled and lotioned with giant sunglasses perched on your noses. You two had managed only a mere hour of peace and quiet in the sun before you were bombarded with the shouting and rowdiness of the boys. The slapping of bare feet on concrete became louder and more multiplied until you saw three bodies whip by the two of you to cannonball into the pool. 

Your body tensed, eyes closing as you braced for the feeling of sun warmed water to assault you. But it didn’t come. You peaked an eye open when you heard moans and groans of curses (both english and italian), only to see Theo, Enzo and Mattheo hovering just above the surface of the pool. “There’s not a chance in bloody hell I’m allowing you to drench us in pool water just because you lot act like you’re all eleven again in the heat,” Pansy had her wand leveled, pointed strait at the three culprits in front of you. 

It was impossible to hide the grin on your face, pulling your sunglasses down ever so slightly to make direct eye contact with your boyfriend. “Please, bella, tell your friend to let us have a little fun, yeah?” he was laying his accent on extra thick, he knew it was something that often had you melting on his every word. However the heat had you feeling extra bratty, “Not today, amore mio, it’s too hot. Leave the shenanigans for cooler temps, please.” You turned to your friend beside you, “Let them down, Pans. I wanna go inside for a drink.” 

Pansy shrugged, tugging her wand slightly to break the connection. You didn’t miss the slight gape in Theo’s mouth, his expression that of slightly betrayed, but you thought it was cute that he thought you’d give in so easily. Pansy followed you, twirling her wand between her fingers. “Ladies, looking like you’re plotting something, should I be afraid?” Blaise teased as he and Draco exited the villa, Blaise holding the door for you two to enter. Pansy spoke over her shoulder cheekily, “If you know what’s good for you, I wouldn’t plot with the three stooges in the pool.” 

Blaise wore a smirk as he held his arms up in defense, backing away and towards the pool as he let the door close behind the two of you. Sliding up to the kitchen island you let Pansy work on making the drinks as you took off your sunglasses, pulling your wand from the strap of your bikini top where you had secured it for the walk inside. Pansy quirked a curious eyebrow, “Doing some plotting of your own, babes?” You shook your head as you smiled, “Not necessarily, more like…precautionary measures.” 

You held your sunglasses at arms length, pointing the tip of your wand to one lens, “speculo vicissm.” You did the same to the other lens as Pansy laughed lightly, “A reflection charm? Pray tell, my dear, how are these going to help?” You grab the glass she had just set in front of you and threw a decorative straw in it before taking a large sip, “Fucking, Merlin, Pansy, is there any mixer in here?” Pansy just shrugged her shoulders. You took another smaller sip, “Okay, actually it’s not that bad. Anyway, we know that Theo and the others are probably plotting some childish plan to get us back for your little hover charm earlier.” 

She nodded her head, waving her hand in a circular motion as if to tell you to continue, “So I figured…what better way to see him coming than to have eyes on the back of my head. Or rather, be able to see him behind me…without him knowing.” Pansy tapped the side of her glass with her fingers outstretched, her ring making a clinking sound like a mini applause for you as you put your sunglasses back on. “Oh, that is fucking brilliant. I knew Nott had to have fallen for you for more than just a nice ass-ouch!” Pansy rubbed her arm where you swatted at her, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, your very average ass.” 

You laughed, going to swat at her again but she jumped back, running toward the door leading to the pool. Pansy was giggling as you followed briskly after her, being distracted only by Mattheo calling your name. You walked over hesitantly, eyebrow raised and scanning your surroundings as you approached, “Is this some ploy to help Teddy get back at me, Matt? You know I’ll get you back if it is.” You pointed an accusing finger at the raven haired boy who held his hands up in defense, “I’m clean, swear. Look, no wand. I was just, erm, wondering what you were getting Nott for his birthday this year?” 

Arms crossing you sat into your hip, “Theo’s birthday is not until December…why are you asking about that?” Mattheo started stumbling over his explanation as you saw movement in the reflection charm you put on your sunglasses, “I, erm, just wanted to know because I didn’t want to get the same thing as yo-” Mattheo was cut off by you crouching down, pulling him with you. The snap of elastic led way to a burst of water hitting the fence where Mattheo and you once stood. You raised to full stature, quickly turning around while Mattheo continued to sit behind you only to see Enzo with a weak smile on his face. 

“A water balloon, really? Explain yourself, Berkshire,” your tone took that of an accusing older sister and Enzo became visibly nervous. “T-theo,” Enzo cleared his throat after his voice cracked, “ahem, erm, Theo made me do it.” You turned to face your boyfriend who seemed completely unbothered. He stretched his long, toned body across the pool floaty, feet lazily hanging into the water, “What’s wrong, cara mia? Can you handle the heat, or no?” His accent made the question more taunting then it already was. You shook your head, smirking down at him, “Okay, pretty boy. I know what you’re up to. Good luck trying to get me now.” 

But try Theo did, and fail he did often. After the mishap with Mattheo distracting, or more like attempting to distract you Theo tried three more times to soak you with water balloons. And nearly each time your sunglasses charm came in handy. When you were walking back towards the villa to get you and Pansy another round, you saw Mattheo trying to sneak up behind you, “Don’t even think about it Riddle.” You heard him groan in defeat before throwing the balloon at Enzo instead. 

When you were laying out again with Pansy, he had tried to use a hover charm. Thankfully Pansy sensed that one a mile away, using her own wand to counter his spell and send the balloons chasing Theo until he jumped back into the pool to escape. His third attempt was the lowest one in your opinion, so you’re happy it didn’t work out for him. Theo had called you over, saying he wanted a truce and that “he forgave you for foiling his plans earlier.” He tapped on your bottom lip with his thumb, something he did often when he was wanting a kiss. You wanted to believe him, even began to lean towards him until you saw Draco and Mattheo tip toeing in the reflection. The moment you saw them release the balloons you apparated to the other side of Theo, causing both balloons to hit him in the chest and forehead. 

Theo had let out a slew of curses as your hands set firmly on your hips, “Really, Malfoy, you too? Shouldn’t you be hiding in the shade with how fucking pale you are? You’re brighter than the fucking sun.” Draco scoffed, a scowl gracing his face, “Hey, just because you’re pissed at Nott, don’t take it out on me.” Theo had called a truce then, and for the last thirty minutes you felt like you had finally found peace. So when Blaise called you over to the table, you didn’t find it suspicious whatsoever. That and the fact that you fully trusted him to stay out of the rest of the boy’s childish antics. 

“So how did you manage it?” Blaise asked as you sat down. You tilted your head, “How did I manage what?” Blaise leaned his elbows on the table, hand waving as he spoke, “How did you manage to always know when they were coming? Did you put eyes in the back of your head or something, love?” You laughed lightly, handing your sunglasses over to your friend. Blaise quirked an eyebrow, picking up the sleek shades and twisting them this way and that before finally putting them on himself. He let out a low hum of recognition, smiling as he pointed a finger at you, “A mirror charm, you clever witch.” 

You nodded, leaning back in your chair, “Thank you, much. I’m very proud of that. Although I do feel slightly bad with how many times Theo got pummeled with water balloons today.” Blaise pulled your sunglasses down his nose slightly, peering at you over the lenses, “Don’t feel bad, love. He deserved that. However, I do feel bad, because I don’t think you deserve this, but they roped me into it.” Before you even had a chance to properly process what Blaise had just said, what felt like a water balloon the size of your head burst above you, essentially drenching your entire top half in frigid water. 

Turning around slowly in your chair, a look of shock still etched on your face, you saw your boyfriend standing by the edge of the pool, looking far too proud for his own good. You stood up from the patio chair you were sitting in, your look of shock now exchanged for one of determination, “Oh, you are dead meat, Theodore.” You started running after him, Theo only giggling before running away and around the pool. Enzo took your earlier seat next to Blaise, mouth half full of licorice as he spoke, “M’money’s on Theo, his legs are longer and he’s far quicker. Ten galleons he laps the pool and catches her first.” Blaise shook his head, “Nuh uh, no chance. Our little witch is gonna get him and then they’re both gonna end up in the pool.” 

Not as soon as Blaise finished his sentence did you grab hold of Theo’s shoulder, a small yelp from him heard before you both hit the water; Blaise simply smirked at Enzo, holding his hand palm up and waited for his winnings.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #16

Your stalker has a severe problem.

That's the conclusion you came to as you opened the door for the fifth time that day to another mailman handing you three more packages. Your living room had become unlivable, a space cluttered with cartons and the unopened remains of packages. At some point, you stopped opening them, but now they were collecting dust and destroying the comfort in your own home.

At first, curiosity had gotten the better of you. Amongst inappropriate gifts like underwear and... toys, there had actually been some useful presents. You secretly kept all the gifts that had been on your to-buy for a while and openly threw away the disgusting ones. You knew better than to accept the stalker's gifts, but since they were valuable, you couldn't help but hold on to some of them.

That was your mistake.

But looking at the neatly stacked packages, spreading from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, you realized your stalker had lost all control. You noticed brand names on the brown packages that you had only glanced at briefly while scrolling through your phone—expensive ones, too. At this point, you feared you couldn't look at anything anymore without it inevitably being sent to your home. You thought you had this situation under control, but apparently, you hadn't.

>> did you like the new necklace?

Heaving a deep sigh you looked at the countless messages, a new one popping up right on time of the delivery. Whoever he was, he was always watching. Though you ignored his constant string of texts—asking about your day, how you were feeling, confessing his love to you, wondering if you would wear his latest gifts—you knew this couldn't go on for much longer.

<< please stop

>> you finally responded :)

<< this needs to stop, I don't need all this junk!

>> but do you like it? i know you kept some of them

Biting your lip, you cursed yourself. Of course he'd notice that you didn't discard everything. That probably only encouraged your stalker to keep sending you more and more, wherever he got the money to afford it. Part of you thought, "Whatever! If he wants to blast through all that money, so be it! Might as well enjoy it!" but what about your morals?

You've been fighting so hard to live a normal life despite having this stalker. The police had given up since he was just too good at hiding his tracks, but he seemed to know everything and always be present in your life. If you let him continue like this, who knows what kind of trouble—legally and morally—you'd get into. What if this was his way of making you dependent and comfortable? This person had no qualms about intruding on your life, but what if he finally snapped? What would happen then? How much worse could this situation get?

<< anyway this needs to stop NOW

>> fine. let's make a deal: i'll send you one more gift >> if you hate it, i'll stop. but if you like it...

<< then what?

>> you'll see ;)

Your finger hovering over the keyboard of your phone, you thought about what your stalker could possibly mean. There was a good chance it would be a gift you liked, and he'd feel confident in the choices he made regarding you. But at the same time, what if it was a god-awful present? What if it was downright horrible? How far would he go, and could you possibly stomach the consequences of his actions because you allowed him to?

<< what if I refuse?

There was no answer this time. It was strange. You were starting to really get paranoid that he was plotting something terrible.

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[rie-092]

LITTLE SIBLING.

⟡﹒yandere! older brother x fem! reader

summary : your older brother thinks that your boyfriend wasn't good enough for you.

during his childhood, yohan davis really wanted a little sister. a sweet little sister that he can protect and adore forever. but, that dream was shattered when his dad died and he had already accepted the fact that no matter what happened, he won't be able to have a little sister. because he can't force his mom to remarry just because of his selfish desire after all.

and let's be honest here. with yohan's handsome face and those captivating (e/c) eyes of his. even when he was a child, everyone adored him. and maybe that was the main reason why he became like— this. uh, a spoiled son who was able to get whatever he wanted? aside from little sister, of course.

but then, when he reached the age of 15, his mom got remarried. he was excited, for his mom and for the chance that he can achieve his dream through his new dad. yep, he knew how obsessed he was with having a little sibling. everyone, except his mom (since she thinks that it was a cute thing but clearly it's not) has pointed it out to him. but he didn't care since in his eyes, it was unfair for him that his friends had little siblings that they could adore and spoil.

and yohan fucking celebrated when he got the news of his mom being pregnant a year later. he basically ran to his new dad and hugged him tightly and started to thank him and his ehem, let's forget about the last part. anyway, after that sudden revelation, yohan had started looking for good names that he could give to his younger sibling. he also looked for some cute toys and clothes but let's forget about it.

yohan, during his little sibling's birth stayed at the hospital. he didn't give a fuck about what other people were saying when he did all of his homework at the hospital while waiting for his parents and his new little sibling. and boy, oh, boy. yohan teared up when he saw you for the first time. you were so cute, so precious, so adorable and the most innocent thing on this planet.

“ so, how about you give her a name, son? ”

that was what he was waiting for. with a smile, he kissed your forehead as he told them the name that he had come up with after the 9 months that he spent thinking a name that suits you. (first name), his little sister. don't worry, your big brother will give you everything that you want and he will do everything for you.

expect that this guy will be quite overprotective when it comes to you. don't complain if you aren't able to play with your peers or if he doesn't let you go out and lock you at home. he was just worried! you're too innocent! what if you got kidnapped when he wasn't looking?! oh, and when he realized that you're allergic to (insert food here)? that day, you weren't able to see that thing inside your house again since yohan really threw a fit in front of your parents exclaiming that if they served you that kind of food again, he would run away and he will bring you with him.

but aside from his obsession, overprotectiveness and overbearing personality. yohan was a good older brother for you. he was much better than your classmates' older brothers. when the truth is he just engraved the 'he's the best older brother in the world' idea on your mind during your early childhood so that you will stay with him forever

anyways, much to his disappointment, when you became a teenager you found yourself a boyfriend. and that angers yohan. i mean, why do you think that boy deserves you? gosh, he was the one who raised you and he knew that boy wasn't deserving of you! he did his best to make you dependent on him. he cooked for you, washed your clothes and even made sure that you didn't know how to do housework! do you think that boy will do that for you? yeah, no.

expect that yohan will always roll his eyes when you mention your boyfriend whenever you are with him. this guy shamelessly stalks you when you are on a date, and when he sees that your boyfriend is about to kiss you? he will immediately call you to cut off that dirty romantic atmosphere that disgusting guy created. that guy bought you a gift? don't worry, your brother will give you a more extravagant the next day.

he will do anything to make you see that you made a wrong choice of getting into a relationship with someone. look, he knew that his obsession with his little sister was because his friends and bandmates always pointing out to him. there was some point when they asked him if he romantically saw you but that only disgusts him. the hell are they talking about? why would he romantically see his little sister? do they think that he's a sick freak? that's disgusting.

sure he stalks his little sister, sure he makes her dependent on him, sure he manipulates his younger sister that he's the kindest soul alive, sure there are some points that he commits crime for you. but anyways— he only did that because you were his little sister. his innocent and fragile little sister that he needs to protect!

and when the news about your boyfriend cheating on you reached his ears. he was fucking happy! see? he told you, that guy wasn't good enough for you! oh, his poor little sister. the only thing that he did when he saw you go home crying was to hug and comfort you but of course, while he manipulates you thinking that other guy aside from him and your dad was like that. a fucking freak that will only hurt your feelings.

ah, of course! do you think that he'll forget about that ex-boyfriend of yours? of course, he won't! because yohan, with a 'little talk' made sure that guy won't be able to approach you again. oh? you're worried when he came home bloodied and had a bruise on his cheek? this guy will tell you that your ex suddenly punched him out of nowhere when he talked to him when the truth is he beat that guy half to death. hehehe, and seeing you believed him made him smile widely. ah, it seems like you're really stuck with him from now on. and yohan was willing to sell his soul to a demon just to make sure this would last forever.

“ big brother's doing this for your sake so listen to me, okay? ”

[talktonytome]

oooh, Cia, about a lil ficlet based on that post about Buck just plopping himself down on Tommy's lap whenever he wants.

Sarah, my beloved! I hope you like this <3

Buck waves his hands animatedly, from his place on Tommy's lap. He's telling Karen about his and Tommy's trip to the botanical garden the other day and how they got to go into the butterfly pavilion.

"Tommy was covered in butterflies, you shoulda seen!" Then, he turns to wink at Tommy. "And he wasn't even a little bit afraid of them."

Karen giggles, as Tommy faux glares at him and starts poking his ribs, well-versed in Buck's ticklish spots.

Buck squirms, trying to get away, but Tommy holds him in place, like it's nothing and doesn't let up.

"Okay, okay, I yield!" He shrieks. And he's glad he threw his arms around Tommy's neck because, in the next second, there's a loud crack, as the chair splinters beneath them and they're both suddenly ass on the ground.

Well, they'd had a good run, he supposes. For as many times as he's sat in Tommy's lap, he's surprised this didn't happen sooner, frankly.

He chances one look at Tommy, who is slightly red in the face. The moment their eyes meet, they burst out in laughter, and if they hadn't already been on the floor, they would have fallen over, anyway.

They laugh and laugh, until they're wiping tears from their eyes and Karen laughs too- more at them, than with them, though. "Well, am I glad I captured that priceless little moment," she smirks, shaking her phone in their faces.

Tommy almost breaks his neck to gasp at her. "Wait did you know this would happen? Karen, you wound me."

Karen shrugs innocently. "I thought I heard the chair creak just before, but I wasn't sure. Anyway, you know this was bound to happen. You two go around acting like chairs are meant to hold two grown-ass men! And Buck, I love you, but as much as you act like one sometimes, a puppy you are not!”

She stands up from her own chair and taps at her phone with a grin. A few seconds later, their phones buzz.

Buck groans. “Really? You sent it to the group chat?”

“What? I thought they’d want to see,” she blinks at them sweetly. “Besides, I had to prove I won the bet,” she nods smugly.

“There was a bet?” Tommy asks indignantly.

“Oh Tommy, you should know by now, there’s always a bet.” With that, she walks away from them and ducks inside her and Hen’s house.

Tommy lays back on the grass, pulling Buck with him. “Well, at least there’s a silver lining,” he sighs.

Buck turns his head to look at him, doubtful. “Oh yeah? Please do tell me.”

“At least everyone else went home before it happened.”

Buck pictures Chim and Eddie’s gleeful ribbing and shudders. Oh god, what if Athena had been there? “Yeah, yeah I think you’re right.”

“I often am,” Tommy agrees, voice low and teasing.

“Don’t push it, Kinard,” Buck mutters.

“I thought you liked it when I pushed you around, against surfaces, especially,” he smirks.

“I’ll show you pushing,” Buck warns, before rolling over and pinning Tommy beneath him.

He’s just about to kiss him breathless, when the backyard flood lights shine on them and Hen yells from the door. “Get a room! Your room, in your home, please.”

They both groan this time. He rolls off Tommy and helps him up instead.

Tommy wraps an arm around him, as they walk to their car. “Cock-blocked by a Hen,” he shakes his head and giggles. “Get it?”

Buck laughs, despite himself. “Oh god, why am I with you, again?”

“Because you looove me.”

“Yeah,” Buck whispers, still in awe that that he gets to have this, slightly wounded pride and all. “I really do.”

[bmtillerbabe]

~ Body Heat ~

A Reader x Ghoap fic!

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

Written for the amazing @onlyareyyyy ! Sorry it took forever, thank you for being so patient! :):)

Originally one of her posts, I decided to take it and run with it and turn it into a mini fic :D

"sharing a bed with Simon ghost riley and johnny soap mactavish. having a crush on ghost. being unable to sleep because all you can think of is your proximity to ghost and feeling his massive erection against your back. some sort of conversation or confession which results in ghost fucking you on your side which cause the reader to squirt and which wakes up johnny"

Hopefully, I did it justice! Please, enjoy! (and go follow @onlyareyyyy , she got the goods yo ;) )

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

MDNI

18 + ONLY

MDNI

NSFW, and the smut be smuttin' - you've been warned!

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.

.

  A sharp crack of thunder made you jolt back awake, lifting your hands to cover your ears.

  It was raining.

  Again.

  With an aggravated sigh, you gripped the scratchy duvet and threw it over your shoulders, twisting it with a huff and flinging your body over to face the opposite direction.

  Fucking safe-houses. They were never comfortable.

  You tried your damndest to get back to sleep …. Closing your eyes, counting imaginary animals, hell, even trying to meditate. But it was no use.

  Your comfy spot was long gone; the mattress was now cold; the patter of the raindrops against the cracked windowpanes of the old safehouse was anything but calming right now; and the fear of another loud boom of thunder was enough to keep you wide awake.

  Growling to yourself, you tossed and turned again, blinking in the dark.

  Another lightning flash.

  More rain.

  More thunder.

  And somewhere amidst the constant torrential downpour – on top of being uncomfortable as shit – the power decided to go out.

  A flicker-flicker-flicker, and then …. Nothing.

  Great.

  The distant buzz and hum of the lights just outside your room was abruptly cut off, as was the little golden glow from underneath the door.

  You grumbled to yourself and sat upright, wiping your eyes and slumping your shoulders, staring into the darkness.

  Any other time, it would have made you eerily uncomfortable, and you’d have had half a mind to trudge through the blackness and find your two so-called “guardians” who were supposed to be keeping you safe from some so-called “threat”, and see if you could maybe pester them a little into keeping you company. But you never got the chance.

  As if the gods heard your silent plea, the heavy thudding of steel-toed boots was headed your way before your thought had even finished forming.

  Hmm. Maybe they really were taking this “guardian” thing seriously.

  With a flashlight in his hand, Ghost opened your door (without even knocking, the bastard), Soap following close behind.

  “You a’ight, luv?” The Brit asked, shining the sharp white light directly into your face.

  You scrunched your eyes shut, nodding as you held your hand up to ward away the sudden brightness. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Aye, Ghost, yer gonna blind the poor lass.” Soap scoffed, batting Simon’s hand down.

  “I’m fine.” You answer verbally this time looking at them both, illuminated only by the stray flash of lightning and the flashlight that was now reflecting off the scratched wooden floor. “I was awake, anyway. I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

  Another burst of thunder rolled through the room and made you jump again, covering your ears.

  Jesus Christ, every one was like opening a can of biscuits …

  You watched as Soap walked over to the light switch on the wall, flipping it on and off a few times.

  “Aye.” He confirmed, “Wasn’t just our room, then. Looks like the whole house is without power.”

  Ghost sighed heavily, shaking his head. “In this cold? Great. Tha’s jus’ wonderful.”

  He wasn’t wrong. It was the dead of November, and even if the safe-house wasn’t full of leaky windows and cracked walls, it would have been hard to stay warm all night without any electricity. As it stood now, you were set to freeze.

  As if on cue, your whole body decided to shiver, and you clamped your jaw shut to keep your teeth from chattering.

  You weren’t sure if the men had heard you, but either way you pretended they didn’t when you heard Soap pat Ghost’s shoulder. He nodded for the larger man to follow him out into the hall, turning to you before he did.

  “Stay here, lass. We’ll be right back.”

  And the two left the room.

  You wrapped the blanket around yourself tighter, suddenly aware of the intense chill in the room biting at your nose, any heat that had been blowing through the vents quickly being dispersed through the battered house.

  Well.

  This was just great.

  Now what?

  You’d already been at this safe-house for days, and who knew how much longer you three had to wait for exfil. And now you had to go without power – and heat – on top of it?

  You tried to remain positive, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

  Boots thumping back towards your room caught your attention before you could sink any deeper into your head.

  “A’right, luv.” Ghost clears his throat as he enters the room with Soap in tow once more. You notice their hands are much, much fuller than they had been when they’d left.

  Were those …. Blankets?

  “S’been a change of plans.”

  Your throat went dry.

  He couldn’t possibly mean ….

  “We’re gonna be sharing the bunk wit’ya tonight.”

  Alright. Maybe he could.

  But perhaps it wasn’t really sinking in just yet, the situation not quite made clear, or maybe your brain was just sleep-deprived thanks to the last hectic week; but it wasn’t until Soap just casually sauntered over to your side of the bed and tossed down the armful of quilts and began promptly taking off his overshirt that it finally seemed to hit you in the head like a ton of bricks.

  Sharing the bunk … as in, sharing the bed?

  Your cheeks flush and you sputter out an incoherent strand of mumbles once your brain peels itself away from the shred of toned muscle of Soap’s chest revealed in the lightning flashes.

  “Wh-wh---h-huh?”

  “Good.” Ghost grunted as he, too, began to shed himself of the gear and over-layers of clothing. You heard the clinking of his belt buckle and felt your cheeks flush deeper – suddenly warm all over despite the cold, your mind bombarding you with delicious images of the muscled man undressing just in front of you.

  If only the darkness hadn’t kept you from seeing ...

  “Cuz, er …. ‘Ere’s been a change of plans.” Ghost spoke again in the dark, somewhere to your left now, a sudden weight making you jerk your head to see his shadow crawling into bed with you. You opened your mouth to try and speak again, but another weight on your opposite side made you shift your sights back when you felt Johnny crawling into bed as well.

  Was this seriously gonna happen ….?

  Ghost tossed his boots off somewhere in the room and grunted softly as he removed the rest of his gear. “Since the power wen’ out and we can’t guard ya proper … we’re gonna hafta sleep in ‘ere with you.” He said as trivial as if he were merely telling you about the weather, and not something as monumental as sharing a bed with two, fully grown, fully muscled, toned, beefy military men, sandwiched between them all night.

  If there had been any light in the room, they would have seen your jaw hit the floor.

  Of all the things you’d expected Ghost to suggest for tonight – this situation hadn’t been one of them.

  “W-what?” You finally stammer out again, a little clearer this time, finding your voice.   

  “Aye, we won’ try any funny business with ye, lass, but ye are the precious cargo in this mission. We cannae afford to let anyone get to ye.” Johnny said softly, his voice somehow even darker and sexier than normal in the shadows. “And since the power’s out, and we cannae hear ye over the monitors an’ such, there’s not much of a choice. If anythin’ happened to ye on our watch, Price’d have our heads.”

  “B-but---wait, we---I---” You stutter out, but Ghost abruptly cuts you off with a scoff.

  “Oh, come on, luv. Ain’t no sense in gettin’ all fussy about it. The power’s out and we’re jus’ doin’ our jobs. Ain’t neither of us takin’ no fer an answer. Now, scoot over.”

  Dumbfounded, all you could do was obey orders, and scootch closer to Johnny, accidentally bumping him as you did so. The King-sized bed suddenly felt way too small with these two buff-cakes taking up all the space. Ghost settled into the mattress next to you, his weight making it sink in just slightly, threatening to pull you into his orbit.  

  If the situation hadn’t been so absurd, you might have found it in you to laugh; at the reality that you were currently sitting between two of the biggest, hottest, most handsome men of the 141; and that you were now not only supposed to get sleep, but were supposed to remember how to breathe, too?

  Life was truly unfair.

  “You gonna lay down sometime tonight?” Ghost huffs, but before you can respond, his big, still-gloved hand is on your shoulder, pulling you backwards. You let out a gasp as you fall back onto the bed and hear another snort from the Lieutenant.

  “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a right ice-block, luv. Get your arse back here.” He says, gripping your arm and pulling your back flush against his chest as Johnny straightened out the layers of blankets, throwing them over the three of you in a small pile.

  Suddenly very, very aware of the wall of Ghost behind you, pressing up against the entirety of your body, you stiffen and squirm; trying to get comfortable – maybe even put a shred of distance between your bodies – but the man’s grip is iron-tight.

  “Oi, quit squirmin.’ Get snug and hold the fuck still.” He barks at you, and you immediately calm. Johnny finishes covering you all up and lays back down to face you.

  “Haven’ya ever had ta use body heat before, lass?” The Scotsman asks quietly, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Might not be the most comfortable of situations, but be better than freezin’ ta death, aye?”

  At his words, you feel Ghost’s grip around your waist tighten, and you manage to barely suppress a squeak when his huge palm is suddenly against your side, the intense head radiating off of him in waves.

  Jesus, was this man a walking heater?

  “I’ll take firs’ watch, Johnny.” Ghost grunts leaving no room for argument, and Soap nods, settling in and getting himself comfortable.

  “And you,” Ghost growls in your ear softly, leaning in so that you can feel the warmth of his breath through his balaclava, and pick up the faintest smell of Earl Gray – “Hold still, and get to sleep. Got it?”

  You nod quickly, trying to keep your breathing steady and calm your mind as much as you could. Trying and keep your mind off his huge, hulking form laying comfortably behind you; off his steady breathing and heartbeat that was soothing like a lullaby.

 Fuck.

  It was going to be a long night.

~ * ~

  Maybe hours had passed, maybe minutes. It was impossible to tell with the rain still pouring and the power still out.

  In the shadows, everything looked the same.

  You weren’t even sure if you had even really fallen asleep or not, but you knew at least some time had passed since Johnny had not only rolled over to face away from you but had begun to snore softly.

  Even Ghost, still situated easily behind you with his hand across your midsection seemed to be breathing at a slower rate – deep in his sleep.

  You sighed to yourself quietly, shifting your head on the pillow and blinking in the dark.

  Try as you may to chalk it up to the stress of the situation you were in, or even the unfamiliarity of your surroundings, you knew deep down the warmth settling in your core wasn’t from any of the excuses you tried to convince yourself of.

  You closed your eyes and listened to the rhythmic breathing of Ghost and Soap, humming quietly to yourself.

  Gods, since you’d first seen this man, you’d been smitten with him. I mean, how could you not? Those dark, piercing eyes, framed by the longest, prettiest, most blonde lashes you’d seen in your life; that gruff, British voice; the command and authority he exuded to everyone around him, leaving no room for doubt who’s in charge.

  And that body.

  Ugh.

  Don’t get me wrong, you’d caught yourself more than once eyeing up the Sargeant that currently slept across from you; fresh out of the showers, water still dripping down his scruffy beard; running his hands through his short, tawny-brown mohawk while he laughed at something; catching a stray smile. Fuck, he was just a treat to look at as Ghost was.

  Both of them had biceps that the gods themselves would be jealous of, broad toned chests, firm pecs poking through every shirt they wore as if their bodies were trying to shred the fabric to pieces in order to breathe.

  Both of them were hands down the most attractive men you’d seen in your entire life.

  But it was hard not to pick a favorite when one of them was literally wrapped around you, his scent invading your senses and stealing away your rest.

  His scent.

  Ghost’s scent.

  Cigarettes and Bourbon.

  You swallowed a soft moan as you inhaled deeply, your mind swimming with images of just licking the very smell off his skin, of tasting the salty tang of his body’s natural musk and sweat, wanting to drown yourself in it and never come back up for air.

  Fuck, he smelled amazing.

  And with an internal sigh, you realized your nose wasn’t the only thing enjoying the fragrance of the Lieutenant.

  Shifting your thighs, you realized your entire body was reacting to it …. Your pussy was reacting to it.

  Warm, wet, and nearly dripping already, you could feel your arousal pooling at your centre; your poor cunt aching and empty and eager for something to touch her, please her, fill her, and make her feel good.

  Ghost shifted behind you, grunting softly before breathing steadily once more.

  You held your breath until his movements stilled, suddenly afraid that he’d heard your inner thoughts, or that – fuck – he may have smelled you somehow. But when his breathing evened out once more, you breathed a sigh of relief and let your mind wander back to the dangerous territory you’d been pulled out of.

  And maybe it was wrong. No, not maybe – you knew it was wrong. You knew it was immoral, or bad, or whatever …. But damn, the temptation was there ….

  And what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him … right?

  After all, with the rate you were climbing this ladder, it wouldn’t take you long to get there …

  Heart aflutter with the naughty secrecy of your act and the thrill of being caught, you bit your bottom lip and ever so slightly shifted your arm out from under Ghost’s; snaking it down and around into your waistband. Into your panties.

  You kept your lip between your teeth, biting it softly to keep yourself quiet, moving slow as you could stand it, the heat from your core already reaching your fingertips as you slowly reached down.

  You hoped the torrential rain would help cover any sounds you might make.  

  With a small sigh, you pressed a finger to the slit of your entrance, pleased to find that the arousal was indeed seeping out of you, and you grinned to yourself, braving a finger inside.

  Your hips bucked softly, involuntarily, and you closed your eyes; your breathing quickening under your touch.

  This wouldn’t even take two –

  You gasped in shock when a large, thick wrist clamped down around your own, stilling your movements, and another hand flew to your mouth, nearly covering your entire face with its size.

  Your entire world froze and your heart stopped, eyes going wide.

  “Now … what do you think you’re doin’, luvie?” Ghost growls into your ear, his voice like gravel and sandpaper.

  The tone alone had you clamping your thighs shut and letting out a muffled moan of pleasure before you could stop yourself.

  Caught.

  Shit.

  You tried to muffle something to him as a response, possibly even as an excuse, but Ghost merely chuckled darkly in your ear; sending a wave of gooseflesh down your body.

  “Now, now – quiet down, there, luv. Wouldn’t wanna wake up ol’ Johnny boy, now, would ya?”

  With a shift of his hips, you nearly groaned when you felt the thick warmth of his erection pressed into your backside through his trousers.

  You closed your eyes, your mind and body sending mixed signals, unsure of what to do or how to proceed.

  Ghost didn’t have a shred of hesitation.

  “Now, if I was a bettin’ man,” he said, letting his hand go from your mouth to your neck, holding your chin high as he buried his face in your skin and inhaled.

  “I’d say you was turned on by this …. By me.”

  You gulped, trying not to grind against him, your heart hammering in your chest and his hand sliding down the wrist that was currently still in your panties, dancing dangerously close to your core.

  You felt him smirk against your jaw, giving you a nip.

  “Ain’t that right, luvie?”

  You released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding through your nose, closing your eyes and squirming under his touch. You shake your head, trying to deny it, but he’s having none of that.

  His hand around your throat tightens and his voice drops to a grating growl.

  “Oh, come on, don’t play me for a fool. I’ve seen the way you look at me, at Johnny, at us. Seen the way you bite your lip when you think none of us are looking …” His hand delves deeper into your panties, and suddenly, without warning, his long, thick fingers are rubbing through your folds and causing you to gasp.

  “Heard those sweet little moans of yours as you pleasure yourself at night thinking no one can hear you ….” He continues, moving is hand in time with his seductive voice and dangerous words, palming your clit and spreading your slick through and around your entrance.

  Johnny snores loudly, and your breath hitches.

  “Heh. Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Ghost clicks his tongue in mock disapproval. “Now, now little birdie ….” he growled, one of his fingers circling your opening. You clenched, eager and desperate for him to just shove it in already …

  Fucking jack-off was taking his good ol’ easy time, and it was driving you up the wall.

  “If you want me to keep going, you’re gonna have to be very …. Very quiet.”

  You nod desperately against him, willing to agree to just about anything at this point.

  “Say it, luvie … I need to hear you say it …”

  “Yes.” You croak out on a broken whisper. “Please, Simon, please, just—”

  You don’t get the chance to finish, letting out a sharp squeak of pleasure when one of his fingers is suddenly shoved so far into you that you see stars.

  The hand on your neck moves quickly back to cover your mouth and he bites at your earlobe threateningly.

  “I said be fucking quiet.”

  You nod, breathing through your nose in quick short bursts; your pussy clenching needily around his greedy digit. You close your eyes in bliss when he slowly begins to pump it in and out of you, making a delicious slick, squelching noise; and you damn near come apart in his arms when he utters a soft, “Good girl.” Into your ear.

  His finger feels like heaven, and you weren’t sure it could have gotten any better until he slid a second one in and you thought you’d pass out from how good the stretch felt.

  He made quiet grunting noises behind you, brushing his stubbled, scarred jaw over yours, around the shell of your ear, the skin at the base of your neck. Your mouth fell open in a silent sob, tears springing to your eyes at just how good this felt. How good his fingers were splitting you open, brushing every little part of you that drove you crazy with lust.

  He added a third finger, the burn damn near addicting as he grunted into your ear and thrusted them in and out at a brutalizing pace.

  “Fuck, dovey … fuckin’ hell, you’re so fuckin’ tight … Bet this lil’ cunny’s never felt so good, ‘as she?”

  You swallowed a noise in the back of your throat, thrusting your hips in time with his hands to meet his fingers.

  Your eyes rolled into the back of your head in pleasure and you felt the familiar coil of heat build in the pit of your stomach, the tell-tale sign of an impending orgasm approaching.

  Fuck, it felt so good, and you fucking chased it.

  Bucking your hips back and onto his fingers, you whimpered softly as you ground your pussy into Simon’s hand; desperately chasing your high.

  His noises and grunts and growls in your ear were driving you higher and higher up the wall, and you were already so fucking close – but then his fingers are withdrawn and you’re left achingly empty, whining softly.

  “Simon …” You beg on a breathy whisper, but you pause when you feel the hand that was just inside you moments before reaching down to yank his trousers down; and feel his massive, thick cock spring free and smack against the curve of your ass.

  Your throat went completely dry.

  You tried to keep quiet, your eyes locked on the back of Johnny’s sleeping head as you felt Ghost fuck into his fist from behind you; the tip of his cock brushing against the small of your back with each thrust.

  “Tell me, luvie,” he growls against your ear, shifting on the bed so he can rub the tip through your weeping folds.

  The breath left your lungs.

  “You ever had a man this size? Eh?”

  You shake your head, trying to remember how to even speak, but he grips your neck again. Tight. Hard.

  “Answer me.”

  “No,” You gulp thickly, letting your mouth hang open on a pant.

  He chuckles darkly, and you feel him notch himself at the slit of your entrance.

  “Good. I always like to be a first.”

  And he shoves his cock into you without any further warning.

  You let out a soft cry, unable to help yourself as your walls clamp down around him; and then he’s thrusting into you, brushing against your g-spot with painful accuracy; his balls slapping against your flesh with each needy jerk of his hips, pushing his hard, thick length deeper and deeper into you.

  His hand continues to grip your neck, panting into your ear while his other hand slides down to palm at your lower stomach; pressing down where he feels himself stretching you from the inside out. He smiles against your skin, hungry and predatory.

  “Fuck, you’re taking my cock so well, doll … fuck, you’re so tight. So wet. So needy …. Look at you, all desperate for me and my cock. My cum. You want me to fill you up, doll? Fill this tight, little cunny up? Breed you so good and deep, you’ll be walking around leaking me for days? Eh?”

  You groaned at his filthy mouth, trying to stay quiet but failing miserably, nodding.

  He laughed under his breath at you.

  “Such a filthy fucking slut you are. Lettin’ me fuck you nice and hard while Johnny’s just layin’ there in front of you, unawares.”

  You felt your insides clench at his every word, your orgasm building like a tidal wave inside you.

  At this rate, you were going to cum faster than you’d ever remembered before.

  “Wonder if he’d like to join in on the fun?” Ghost grunted as he angled his hips to somehow thrust even deeper into you; the slick, wet, squelching sounds echoing up through the blanket and into the empty room.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little whore? Have bo’f of us men, filling your holes at once, breeding you from both ends? I bet you would. I bet you’d be such a good fucking girl and swallow every last drop Johnny’d give ya, and then turn around and take another load right up this tight, fucking pussy---agh, fuck!” You feel his entire body clench and his thrusts grow choppy and quicker.

  You moaned, closing your eyes, reaching up to grip the back of his head and hold it down against you.

  Almost, you were almost fucking –

  “Oh, fuck, fuck babygirl, I’m---I’m so close---I’m---Fuck!” Simon grunted and with a final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, cumming deep within your warm, gummy walls; sliding his hand down to pinch your clit as he did so.

  That little action was more than enough, and your orgasm ripped through you like a tornado – leaving a mess of a trail in its wake.

  Clenching tightly around Simon’s cock, you pulsed and twitched around his length – and also managed to squirt; something you’d never ever remembered being able to do before.

  “Fuuuuck….” Simon grunted in your ear, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts as he slowed down; his cock pulsing the last bit of seed deep into your compliant pussy.

  Moaning softly and panting into Simon’s hand, you slowly came down from your high; the world coming back into focus around you.

  But it isn’t the room that comes back into focus, nor is it the lightning flashes that dance across the walls.

  It’s Johnny’s bright blue crystal eyes; dark with lust and need, his hand on his cock and the front of his shirt drenched in … your squirt.

  You felt your soul leave your body and a bright blush rise to your cheeks in shame, but Johnny just chuckled.

  “Aye, I see you’re havin’ all the fun without me, eh?” He groans when he gives his cock a long, languid stroke; arching his back to meet his fist, his eyes locked on yours as Simon slowly began to thrust back into you again.

  “Think you’ve got another round left in ya, princess?”

[cherriesformatt]

sand || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt surprised you with your dream date because he saw some tiktoks you reposted about it

warnings: pure fluff

word count: 1,3k

a/n: I saw this on TikTok and it was just so cute I had to write about it. Thank you guys for all the love under few last stories. I am really happy ily all! Remember English is not my first language so be patient with me! Now enjoy its so cheesy...

Matt told me this morning to get ready for a day because he is taking me out off town for a day. I was exited because the weather was beautiful today and it was so sunny and warm. May grey was making me wanna scream because it was so literally grey and foggy all the time so I was happy that sun was out (and if I'm lucky someones son is going to be inside me 😎 my fav joke to annoy matt). I wore a nice sundress and curled my hair. I did light makeup and I was waiting for Matt to pick me up. When he texted me that he was here I took my purse and sunglasses and went out. I locked my apartment and walked to the elevator that took me to the garage. I did not have a car so Matt always parked on my parking spot which came with my apartment. I smiled when I saw him leaning on his car.

"Hi..."I smiled at him and waved walking in his direction.

"Hi... you look beautiful baby" He pushed himself up and opened arms for me.

"So do you..." I smiled and threw my arms around his neck and kissed him lightly.

He was wearing denim shorts, white nikes and sleeveless black tee. His tattoos were showing. I loved them so much. His hair was fluffy and he had sunglasses on them taking some of his hair back. He looked so good.

"Get in loser were going to the beach" He said again after I moved away and patted my bum.

"Aw great I am so happy... the weather is so beautiful today and did you just quote mean girls? Who are you?" I said and got into the car after he opened the door for me. We were standing on the passenger side anyways.

"I know how you love the beach in spring time so I decided we could have some time on a nice beach...Malibu? And thats your fault you watch it all the time"He smiled.

I loved going up to Malibu. And yes I did love mean girls.

"I love you Matthew" I said happily and he laughed and closed my doors and went to his side. I loved him the most tho.

While we were driving I connected my phone to the aux and put some music on from our shared playlist so I did not have to listen to Matt's whine about my songs.

"So I am thinking brunch, ice cream and then beach or do you wanna take food to the beach? I have some snacks and drinks for us too" He said.

"We can take food to the beach" I said and he nodded agreeing with me.

"Cos he was sunshine I was midnigh...."I looked at Matt so he could finish singing.

"Rain...."He sang and I smiled.

"Oh how world would love you for singing Taylor" I laughed.

"It is you special only, I am not singing to anyone else" He said.

"You're in a good mood today.... Chris and Nick didn't have a chance to piss you off today?" I put my hand on his knee and stroked it gently.

"They were still sleeping when I left but I told them yesterday that were going away for a day and yes I am in a good mood because I missed you and you are so cute in your dress and I am exited about our date" He said and also put his hand on my thigh and left it there.

"Aww do its a date?" I smiled.

"Yes, it's a date...." He smiled as well.

Whole drive we were talking and singing and talking shit about other drivers and people because thats us.

When we finally arrived at Malibu we stopped to get some food and then we drove to the beach.

"What's that?" I asked when Matt took a bag from the trunk after he handed me food and drinks along with a blanket.

"You will see" He said.

"Okay..."I said looking at him suspiciously.

We settled down far from other people so we could have some privacy just in case someone would recognized Matt.

"So... I bought this" He took out glue and canvas from the bag.

"Oh my god....Matt how did you know I wanted to do this?" I gasped happily knowing already what is it all for.

"I follow you on TikTok you know" He laughed what made my laughed as well. I forgot I must have reposted some TikTok about this.

"Can I make a TikTok from this?" I asked him.

"Of course you can but let's eat first because knowing us we will get glue everywhere" He smiled.

"Probably.... Matt thats so cute I can't believe... you're the best boyfriend ever and like I never had to beg you for a good date.... you always just do this out of nowhere and it's been almost two years" I said.

Time with Matt was my favorite time of my life. He was my everything and I don't even remember who I was before I met him.

"Well.. I am trying out here, so are you, you're the best" He put some of my hair behind my ear.

I got up on my knees and kissed him. I loved him so much and it was all so cute that I couldn't resist.

"Our food will be cold" He laughed in my lips and I peck his lips one more time and moved to sit down on my spot.

We ate and opened some drinks. Then Matt went to throw away empty food containers while I prepared the canvas and glue.

"Ready?"I smiled and he gave me his hand.

I put some glue on in and distributed it all over his hand with my own.

Then we sticked our hands to the canvas.

"I hope it's going to work" I said while putting sand on one when he was putting sand on other.

Then we cleaned the access of the sand and only our sandy hand prints were left on the white canvas.

"Oh it's so cute Matt! It worked" I said.

"It did... here, you write our initials on mine and I will on yours" He handed me pastel pink marker. Pastel pink was my favorite color.

I did what he said and on the back I left a little note and the date.

"Let's go cleaned our hands?" He asked and I nodded.

We went to clean our hands in the ocean and came back. After we packed everything we took a walk by the shore and came back to the car.

"Would you like to stay at my place tonight?" He asked while we were driving.

"Yes... you have to show me how much you missed me" I winked at him and he laughed.

"You're impossible" He shook his head.

I edited the TikTok and posted it. It was very cute and I sent a picture to the group chat we had with his brothers.

"Your brother just called you a lover boy" I said and laughed.

"He can fuck himself" He rolled his eyes.

"Oh Matty but you are my loverboy...."I looked at him with a big smile.

"I will drop you off in your apartment actually" He said and it made me laugh even more.

"Okay okay I am done" I put my hands up in defense.

"Thought so..."He said and put his hand on my upper thigh under my dress. It made my body cover with goosebumps.

I smiled.

"Thank you for today... I loved every second of it" I told him.

"Don't thank me just yet...the night is still young sweetheart" He winked at me.

"Oh my god, he winked everybody" I said and put my hand on my lips acting surprised.

"Okay that's it, you're walking home, I am stopping right here" He laughed.

"You love me too much" I said.

" You right, I do..."He said back and took my hand to his lips and kissed it gently and then left both of our hands on his tight.

I was the luckiest girl in the whole world.

[iimplicitt]

I WAS ALL OVER HER PT.2 — O.P.

pairings: oscar piastri x reader (romantic/platonic) | lando norris x reader (romantic)

part two of three, link to part one here

summary: lando and y/n relationship is on the rocks. y/n either makes the worst or best decision of her life. oscar is losing it and has a secret habit of street racing? (listen to empathy while he races).

warnings: pining, missed opportunities, cheating (mentioned), cheating towards the end, 18+ smut, jealous!oscar, toxic!lando, mirror sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex sorta (stay safe), technically a HEA for oscar x yn? bumpy road to get there, though.

word count: 4.9k

dedicated to: @theonottsbxtch

authors note: this in no way speaks on my opinion of lando and what his personality may be like, i love him this is purely for the plot <3

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You stood in the doorway of Lando’s bedroom in his flat in Monaco, sighing as he went through your phone. His eyes scrunched and a scowl on his lips as he held up the phone for you to see. “Who the hell is that?”

Narrowing your eyes to look, it was another comment some stranger left underneath one of your posts, calling you beautiful. The issue, to Lando at least, was that the stranger was a guy. “I don’t know.”

Lando scoffed and pulled your phone back towards him. “Yeah well, he’s also in your DM’s.”

You tried not to roll your eyes, knowing that would only annoy him further. He was weirdly obsessed with any male attention you received, not that you ever entertained it but he always made it seem like you were the one doing something. “And how many girls are in your comments and your DM’s? It’s not like I ever reply, unlike you.”

It wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise, even with Oscar and all the girls reaching out to him it never bothered you, you knew that’s simply how it was with fame. But the fact Lando would actually reply to them made you uncomfortable. He didn’t seem to care as he waved you off again. “I’m just engaging with my fans, what excuse do you have?”

You baulked at him. “I don’t talk to them.”

“I’m sure you just deleted the chats.” He practically threw your phone at you before turning around to go back to his game.

You wished you could say this was the first and last time you had this conversation with him, but it was beginning to feel like a weekly occurrence. You didn’t understand, he even had the audacity to flirt with girls in front of you but would say he was just being friendly. And who were you to question him, anyway?

You felt lost, lonely. Thrown into the world of dating a celebrity who gave no reassurance and it was like everyone you cared about suddenly wasn’t available to talk anymore. Either because of time zones, work, et cetera. And Oscar… you had always felt like he was someone to lean on without feeling like a burden but even now he felt like a stranger.

Events were beyond awkward, he’d mutter a hello before practically running away from you. Anytime you tried to talk to him, there was an excuse to leave. Your daily texts came to a halt besides a Happy Birthday message and a bouquet of flowers that Lando had thrown away before you even had a chance to hold them.

You’d still sometimes catch him staring at you though, and it kept a little flame of hope alive in your heart that he didn’t hate you. That your friendship maybe was salvageable, it just needed time.

At a club following a relatively successful qualifying for McLaren one night, you had just walked away from the bar with a new drink and weaved between the crowd of people. You weren’t sure where Lando was, and part of you said you probably didn’t want to know. Worrying about all the what if’s was going to kill you. Taking a sip of your drink, you decided you wanted a bit of fresh air and moved towards the large balcony the club had. It was still crowded, but not nearly as much and you found a seat at an empty table.

You mostly people-watched for a while, letting the alcohol create a comforting blanket over your nerves when someone sat down across from you.

Oscar was looking at you, eyes a bit bloodshot and his hair a mess as he held a glass of what might’ve been whiskey. Your shock made you sit there stupidly for a moment and stare at him. Surprised he made the first move to initiate some sort of interaction, anxious to talk to him, angry he had been avoiding you, and mad at yourself for not trying harder to fix things.

“Hi.” He said, his voice a bit rough around the edges.

Apparently words were lost on you as you continued to stare at him.

He sighed, his breath shaking as he messed with his glass tumbler. “Are you happy?”

Pursing your lips, you finally pulled your eyes away from him to look at the city skyline. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re not answering.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Oscar.” Not when he was intoxicated, at least.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Please, I need to- are you happy?”

Dammit, your eyes began to water. Why was he always able to pull such reactions out of you so easily? “You don’t always have to try and save me, Oscar. I’m a grown woman.”

“The most remarkable people in the world still might want help sometimes.”

You looked away from him, biting at the inside of your cheek in a weak attempt to keep your breathing even and wiped a tear away. You missed him, you really did. And maybe this rift was your own doing. You knew you couldn’t blame yourself for Lando’s behaviour but sometimes it felt like everything would’ve been easier, better for Oscar, if you weren’t in the picture. If you had just stayed home and not agreed to come to that first race last season.

Standing up, you offered a tense smile. “I’ll see you at the race tomorrow.” And you walked away.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Oscar had never truly hated anyone before, but with each passing day he came dangerously close to yanking Lando by the collar of his shirt and punching him. The way his teammate so blatantly flirted with other girls while doing media events was beginning to lose its shock value on Oscar, but his anger just kept reaching a boiling point. Maybe he needed to be more level headed and mature about the whole situation, but knowing how much Lando was disrespecting you started to affect how Oscar raced. It wasn’t a hindrance by any means, but people were starting to notice how much more aggressive he was being on track.

A few days before a race weekend, teams were allowed to go out and walk the track to get a feel for it. Which was necessary on all accounts because the upcoming circuit had recently been resurfaced. Oscar had his hands in his pockets as he walked, paying close attention to the curves and the changes in elevation when a familiar waft of perfume caught his attention. It took him off guard, not expecting to find you out here but there you were, walking with Charles’ girlfriend Alex, who was taking their dog Leo for a stroll.

Your eyes immediately caught his, muttering something to Alex before heading in his direction.

He stood there like a deer caught in headlights as you approached, messing with your nails nervously the closer you got. Finally, stopping a few feet away you gave him a small smile. In an instant it was like all the ice that had built up over his heart the past few months began to melt.

“Walk with me?” You offered, extending an olive branch and he nodded, letting a small smile tug at his own lips as he began to walk again, you by his side.

It was quiet for a little while, the air a bit tense but nowhere near what it had been lately.

“I still don’t understand how you aren’t scared shitless when you get in those cars. The turns are so sharp and you come at them so quickly.” You muttered, gnawing at your lip and he couldn’t help but stare at the soft look of them before he forced himself to look away.

“Over time the fear goes away. There’s a thrill to it, I think. An adrenaline rush. Corners are the best part sometimes.” He offered, looking at you again only to find you already staring at him.

“Is that why you hold on to the door handle for dear life when I drive? For the thrill of it?” You joked and he found himself laughing, forgetting how easy it was.

“I think that’s my body going into fight or flight mode when you’re behind the wheel.”

You shoved him playfully, shaking your head with a grin on your face. The brief physical contact made his head spin and butterflies erupt in his stomach. He desperately wanted to touch you, hug you, something… he didn’t know. “I miss you. This.” The words were out before he could think more on it but he didn’t regret them either.

Coming to a stop in front of Oscar’s garage, you looked up at him and smiled softly. “Me too.”

Your eyes locked onto his, feeling like the world had stopped spinning and it was just the pair of you. Oscar didn’t have to think about anything else as you stood there in front of him. His best friend and the girl he knew had his heart. Slowly, he lifted his hand as your hair got tossed around by the breeze and he brushed it away from your eyes. Taking in the soft feel of your skin and an electric shock went from his fingertips and tore apart each of his nerves.

Pulling away, you turned to go meet your boyfriend and the world started to move again.

He flipped over in his hotel bed, one arm wrapped around your waist as the other found leverage on the mattress. Your soft and shaky breath sent shivers down his body, feeling your soft skin slide against his as he moved down the bed.

“Oscar,” you whimpered out, hands tugging at his hair as desperation began to control your movements. You were so beautiful, no matter where or how he saw you. But there was something akin to holiness as he looked at you spread out on his sheets beneath him. Naked and wanting. Wanting him.

“Relax for me, angel.” He pressed a kiss to your hip before moving down, licking a long stripe up your wet—

He shot up, sweat drenching his skin and a painful erection showing a tent in his sheets. Oscar groaned as reality caught up with him, pressing his palms into his eyes. “What is wrong with me?” He whispered to his empty hotel room, still wishing you could somehow be there next to him.

The sex dreams had always been a common occurrence the moment he realised he liked you. Years of built up sexual frustration and he always felt guilty about them afterward. You were his best friend yet every other night he fantasised about fucking you. The dreams never stopped, even when you were in a relationship. Even when he was in one.

His hands dropped as he stared out the window, depressed and frustrated. “I am awful,” he muttered. But Oscar knew he’d have one again. Part of him didn’t want them to stop, and he’d tell himself he could live with the guilt.

Later that day, maybe it was the lack of sleep or the constant pain of knowing you were with Lando, but when he caught his teammate slipping a girl his number he snapped.

Once they rounded a corner and no one was around, Oscar grabbed onto his shirt and slammed him into the wall, pinning him there with an arm against Lando’s chest. “You are such a joke.” He bit out.

Lando blinked at him in surprise before shaking away his shock, trying to shove Oscar off of him but the Aussie didn’t budge. “What is your problem, mate? Get the hell off me.”

“Does she know you’re out here messing around or do you like rubbing it in her face so blatantly?” Oscar was three seconds away from punching him before Lando shoved him more roughly, finally managing to break free from the wall.

He narrowed his eyes at Oscar before laughing, the sound of it dry and lacking all amusement. “Since when did you start giving a fuck about her again?”

Clenching just jaw, Oscar walked up to his teammate, his own eyes narrowed and his voice low. “Quit playing with her or I’ll run you off the damn track.” With that, he patted Lando’s shoulder once before walking away.

The Dutch Grand Prix was approaching and Oscar felt like he was losing it. You were everywhere. Plaguing his thoughts. In all his dreams. All he could think about. Him and Lando had hit a stand still in their working relationship and the friendship they had built came crumbling down when Oscar realised how much of an arse he truly was to you.

There was a small get together with a decent amount of the drivers and some friends at a townhouse Max had. The grill was now cool from the earlier barbecue and most of the crowd had moved inside as the night air grew chilled and rain was approaching.

Oscar felt suffocated inside the house, though. Everything was too bright and too close. You were everywhere yet nowhere at once and Lando was being a smug bastard, acting like a saint when he was really a devil in disguise. No matter how hard Oscar tried, he couldn’t stop looking at you. Wishing he was Lando and hating himself for it. Wishing he was the one who got to fall asleep next to you at night, knowing he could love you properly. Then Lando disappeared, and so did you and he felt his brain shatter into a million pieces. Knowing it wasn’t him made his chest physically hurt and he stumbled towards the back yard, not being able to breathe until the door was shut behind him and all the voices became muted.

He froze the moment he saw you laying in the grass, staring up at the moon.

“Hey,” you said, hearing his footsteps approach before he laid down next to you. The grass was damp from earlier rain but he didn’t care. You were there next to him, that’s all that mattered.

It was quiet for a while. The only noise was from the house and crickets, sometimes thunder from the distance. His mind was moving quickly, yet sluggishly, and still everything felt strangely clear all the sudden as he star gazed with you.

“Break up with him.”

You were silent, but he heard you take in a sharp breath before you whispered the next word. “What?”

“Break up with him.”

“Oscar—“

Turning to you and perching himself up by his elbow, he continued. “I know I waited too long. I know I didn’t communicate with you. I know I’m an arse for ignoring you. I’m sorry, I am, but— he is horrible to you. You’re not happy, I know you aren’t.”

You looked up at him, still laying down and the moonlight painted a heavenly sight before him as your brows furrowed. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“Why not? I know you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you—“

You finally sat up, eyes narrowed. “And what? You do? All this time you’ve apparently loved me but would tell me you weren’t interested and would go off dating other girls. What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Oscar?”

He quickly stood up to follow you as you also got up and began to walk away from him.

“Why put yourself through hell for him?” He bit out.

“I have spent years putting myself through hell waiting for you! I can handle him.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle him!”

You whipped around to yell something at him when the back door suddenly opened and Logan stepped out, eyeing the scene wearily. “Am I interrupting something?”

Before Oscar could say anything, you bit out a “Nope,” and stormed past the two drivers, disappearing into the house.

Logan quietly shut the door and raised a brow at Oscar. “Trouble in paradise?”

Oscar fell heavily onto a porch chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Something like that.”

Looking at his friend for a moment, Logan sat down across from him. “You know,” he started, “I’ve known you two for a long time and you’ve always seemed to work something out.”

Sighing, Oscar leaned back in the chair and thought about the last few months. Thought about that fateful night a few years ago. Logan must’ve been thinking about it, too.

“I know how messy it was the first time and how much you beat yourself up over it, but it worked out didn't it?”

“Did it?” Oscar asked. “I feel like we just kept pushing off the inevitable and now it’s blown up in my face.”

“Look, I know it sucked but you did the right thing not getting into a relationship with her back then. That would’ve blown up in your face. But now, man, you have the world at your fingertips.” He paused for a moment and rubbed at his chin. “Why’d you invite her in the first place?”

Oscar frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. You never invited her to your old races. You knew how busy you’d be once you started in Formula One, you wanted her here.”

He shrugged. “I mean yeah, but—“

“And now Lando is in the way?”

Oscar sighed, “yeah.”

The long time friends looked at each other, not sure whether or not to mention they both knew Lando was cheating on you. Logan caught him with some girl in a hotel bar, Carlos yelled at him a few weeks ago when he caught him with someone, and the list went on.

Oscar had a feeling you knew as well, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why you wouldn’t just leave the bastard.

As if reading his thoughts, Logan spoke again. “She might feel trapped, you know? Despite even the worst circumstances, it’s hard to leave relationships sometimes.”

“When did you get wise?”

Logan laughed and shook his head, standing up to pat his friend on the shoulder. “I always have been. Now, you have two options. One, run after her and try to fix this no matter what or else you’re going to go through the rest of your life wondering what if you had tried harder. Or two, you try to let go of it. Let go of her, and move on.”

Oscar licked at his dry lips and looked down at his hands, noticing the calluses he got from racing. “I can’t forget about her.”

“Then get off your ass and go after her.”

Logan didn’t have to tell him again. He patted the American on the back in thanks and took off into the house, only you were nowhere to be seen.

He caught sight of Charles and pulled him to the side. “Have you seen her?”

His friend looked at him knowingly, the Monegasque had a weird sixth sense on reading people and on more than one occasion he had offered Oscar some friendly advice on the matter of a broken heart. “She left, mate. Not with Lando though, if that helps.”

It did, and if Oscar wasn’t in such a rush he would’ve hugged the man.

He muttered a thanks before grabbing his keys and running out the door. He wasn’t sure where she was, but the first place he would assume is the hotel the McLaren team was staying at.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You shivered as you walked, your anger at everything beginning to fizzle away. Adrenaline had kept you warm for the most part as you got deeper into the city but now that it was fading you grew a bit nervous. A woman walking alone at night was never the safest or smartest decision.

But you had been so pissed off at Lando and angry that Oscar had been right. Right about everything. Lando was bad news but you were so desperate for attention you let a man start to slowly pick at you in ways he knew would make you crumble. He knew all your insecurities and would point them out to make a statement or if he got bored.

If you would’ve just been smart and waited a bit longer you could’ve been happy with Oscar. But… you had waited for years and you were tired. You knew it wasn’t your fault that he didn’t communicate how he had actually felt about you. That still didn’t solve any of the raging emotions going off inside you.

You heard a car approaching and kept your head down, hoping they would shoot past you. Much to your horror, the car with a strong sounding engine began to slow down. The deep rumble from it made your bones tremble, or maybe that was your fear.

Then a window rolled down and a familiar voice called out. “Get in the car.”

You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were being irrational, surely. But you kept walking, “go away.”

The car halted to a stop, a door opening and slamming shut and not a moment later Oscar was standing in front of you. Angry. “Get in the fucking car.”

You blinked at him. You knew he swore during races but hardly ever at you. You were about to argue with him, being fueled by pure stubbornness at this point when there was a loud crack of lightning and it began to rain.

“Fine,” you bit out, getting into the expensive car and at that moment you didn’t care if your wet clothes ruined the leather. Oscar didn’t seem to care either as he slammed his door shut.

He started driving once you buckled and you wanted to roll your eyes. He was clearly pissed at you, though you couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t like you did anything to him. What made it clear he was mad was the increasing speed of the car. He was always careful, always put together. Besides when racing, you weren’t sure you had ever actually seen him speed before.

Although you trusted him with your life, your mouth felt dry as you went around a wide corner, your body being pushed to the side by the force of it. “Oscar—“

“What the hell is wrong with you? Walking out here alone at night in a country you’ve never been in?”

“We both know that’s not why you’re mad right now.”

Oscar laughed, the sound rough on your ears as he whipped around another turn, the tyres losing a bit of traction from the rain but he manoeuvred into a drift and easily corrected the car with a complicated turning of the wheel and doing lord knows what with the gear shift.

This was absolutely not the time to be thinking such things but you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked breaking who knows how many traffic laws. Your thoughts only annoyed you though, not understanding why you had to like him. Not understanding why you let yourself get into the current position you were now in. Not understanding why you let Lando treat you like shit.

“So your driving isn’t any better off the track, either.” The cruel words slipped out on their own accord. You didn’t mean it. Maybe it was Lando rubbing off on you, maybe you were just making excuses.

Oscar didn’t say anything, his knuckles turned white on the steering and sped up, going well over the speed limit now and drifting, the back of the car swinging much too close to poles and buildings. It was reckless yet controlled all at once. Maybe this was his outlet. He wasn’t a big drinker, obviously didn’t dabble in drugs, he wasn’t violent, and a Formula One car was worth millions of dollars and too risky to take frustrations out on. Maybe he did this often, maybe that’s why he did it with expert precision as he raced through the streets of Zandvoort.

You didn’t know why, but when police sirens and flashing lights started to follow the car, you laughed. It was strangely liberating, watching Oscar let go of everything for once and for you to let go of fear.

Your eyes met his, red and blue lights gleaming off them and you two shared a smile before he raced off, evading law enforcement with a surprising ease and you wondered what other surprises Oscar still had in store for you after all these years.

He pulled into a dark alleyway between two buildings, quickly shutting the car off and turning out the lights. He lightly placed a hand on your back and pushed you down so you both weren’t in view from the back window. A few seconds later the police whipped by, neither of you moved till the sirens faded.

You were quiet for a minute, the only sound was your heavy breathing mixed with Oscar’s and you could just barely catch the gleam of his eyes in the dark as he looked at you. Sitting up, you messed with the hem of your shirt, a cold wave of reality hitting you. This felt like some sort of event horizon. Whatever happened in this car would determine if and how he’ll be in your life.

“Oscar,” you started quietly. He sat up as well, looking at you in the dark and hummed, patient. “Please tell me this all isn’t because I’m now something you feel like you can’t have.” The words were out, one of your biggest fears. Insecurities. Terrified he was only interested because suddenly you weren’t an option anymore. An option he’d always had.

“Angel, there was never anyone else.” His voice was so quiet you barely heard him, or maybe your heart was beating too loudly over his words. “I’m done for.”

You sucked in a breath, forgetting how to breathe as you looked at him. Your best friend. The man you’ve been in love with for years. The way he was looking at you, it wasn’t any different than how he usually did. You had just apparently been naïve to the sheer desperation in it.

“Oscar—“

His lips crashed against yours, your back hitting the door and his hands cupped your face, holding him to you.

You froze, only for a moment as your stomach dropped from the surprise. Then it came rushing back up to you and your fingers buried themselves in his hair, kissing him back with such ferocity you weren’t aware you were capable of.

One of his hands held the nape of your neck while his other hand quickly undid your seat belt, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He was so warm, soft yet rough at the same time and he tasted like heaven. As his tongue slid past your lips, dancing against yours you let out a moan that had him trembling against you.

Years. You had waited years to kiss him. You’ve dreamt about it. God, you even cried about it a couple of times. The pure longing you had been harbouring all this time had reached criticality and now you were just about to explode. His hands were all over you, exploring every inch as if he was a crazed man who found the holy grail and couldn’t quite believe it.

His tongue explored the inside of your mouth, hot and wet and he was practically breathing you in. Your nails raked through his hair, wanting so much more it felt maddening.

His teeth tugged at your bottom lip as he pulled away, his eyes heavy lidded and before you could utter a complaint his mouth latched onto your neck, just below your jaw. The sound that left your mouth was embarrassing but he seemed to love it, a moan leaving his mouth and vibrating through you as he left a wet trail of open mouth kisses down your throat, sucking and biting as he went.

You tugged on his hair, a whimper leaving his mouth but it was swallowed up by your mouth as you kissed him again. With one hand snaking up underneath your shirt, his other hand grabbed your wrist and placed it on—

Your brain short circuited by how hard his cock was. Not only that, but you were touching him. There. You could faint.

“Angel, please.” It was practically a whine as he kept kissing you, his hips pushing up into your hand. As if the sounds leaving his mouth commanded you, you squeezed his erection through his pants.

Oscar shuddered violently, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “Fuck.”

“Oscar.” You sounded needy. You didn’t care. And for a whole list of fucked up reasons, you didn’t care that you had a boyfriend.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, f1, maxverstappen1 and 1,926,378 others

landonorris yup 🏆 more like it

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userone: LESGOOOOO

usertwo: twowinssss

userthree: anyone notice how tense lando & oscar were?

| userfour: yea… and landos gf. super weird

| userfive: neither of them liked this either

usersix: y’all see those dm’s some girl leaked???

| userseven: YEAAA lando has been lurkinggg

| usereight: embarrassing honestly

usernine: y’all see that video of oscar drifting through the city? wild

| userten: I KNOWWW it was sick. didn’t know he was like that

| usereleven: who do you think the girl was in the passenger seat?

usertweleve: MORE DM’S GOT LEAKED

userthirteen: lando is quite literally for the streets

userfourteen: is this why oscar has been racing dirtier? his teammate fucks over his best friend? yikes

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part three found here