#anyways. maybe this will make sense to someone else

[paucubarsisimp]

surprise gone wrong pt.2 (alternate ending)

pairings: oscar piastri x reader, ex!lando norris x reader

summary: in which you move on... with his teammate

warnings: mentions of cheating

a/n: so oscar didn't actually win the poll but i didn't actually agree with lando since he did cheat and cheating is not okay!! so i decided to make this and the lando one.

prev || alt ending

it was nearly a week before you heard from him.

a message. a simple text. just his name at the top of the screen. but the seconds before you opened it felt like hours. and when you saw the words, a bitter chuckle escaped you. "can we talk?"

no. you didn’t want to talk. not yet. maybe not ever.

but you couldn’t ignore it. not completely. you were still tangled up in him, in what you thought you had with him, even though the wound was fresh. so, you replied, terse but polite, "what do you want to talk about?"

the response came quickly: "i’m sorry. i messed up. i need to explain."

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you didn’t want to hear his explanation. you didn’t want to hear anything that might make you feel like it was still salvageable.

but you couldn’t bring yourself to delete the message either. you stared at it, fingers frozen on your phone, mind a mess of conflicting thoughts.

you couldn’t keep living in the past, though. you couldn’t keep waiting for someone who no longer seemed to care. so, you didn’t answer. you left him on read, and for the first time, that felt like a small victory.

instead, you’d been finding solace elsewhere.

oscar had been there. quiet, patient, and understanding. he didn’t ask questions about what had happened in melbourne or why you’d gone there in the first place. he just let you be. he shared your silence, your grief. sometimes, he would crack a joke to lighten the mood, but he never pushed. and when you finally let your walls crumble, when you finally talked about lando—about the heartbreak, the betrayal, the way it felt to be forgotten—oscar just listened. without judgment. without expectation.

the two of you started spending more time together. at first, it was just small outings. a quiet coffee here. a walk around the city there. oscar didn’t rush anything, didn’t ask you to open up faster than you could handle. it was a slow burn. but somehow, in the midst of the heartache, he became a constant presence.

oscar was different. he had a steadiness about him. the kind of calm that made the world feel less chaotic when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control. when you’d spent so much time looking at lando, trying to understand him, trying to hold onto a love that wasn’t meant to be, oscar made you see that maybe there was something else. something real.

it wasn’t love. not yet. but it was something that felt more like a foundation. and for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel like you were drowning.

but even with oscar’s quiet support, you still couldn’t escape the shadows of your past with lando.

the moment you ran into him again—at an event oscar had invited you to—it felt like the earth shifted under your feet. you had barely even expected to see him. the gala was supposed to be a night for celebration, for oscar’s achievements, but it was hard to ignore the uneasy feeling when lando walked into the room.

he wasn’t the same as he was in melbourne, his eyes searching for someone—maybe you, maybe anyone who could make him feel whole again. you didn’t want to look at him, but he found you, anyway. there he was, across the room, eyes wide as he locked onto yours. it was like a magnet pulling at your chest, dragging you back to a place you couldn’t afford to visit again.

you felt your breath catch, just for a second, before you reminded yourself that you weren’t that person anymore.

oscar, sensing the shift in your mood, slid his hand gently over your back, offering comfort without a word. the touch, the steadiness of him, helped you hold it together.

“do you want to go?” oscar asked quietly.

you shook your head, forcing a smile. “no. i’m fine.”

oscar’s grip tightened just a fraction, and you knew he was only asking out of care. he wasn’t pushing you, but he could tell the air between you and lando was thick. but instead of shying away, you stood your ground. you weren’t running from him anymore.

lando, sensing your resolve, slowly made his way over, his expression unreadable. when he reached you, he paused, his gaze flicking between you and oscar.

“hey,” lando said, his voice quieter than you remembered. “can we talk?”

oscar’s hand didn’t leave your back, a silent protector, a reminder that you didn’t have to do this alone. you wanted to tell lando that there was nothing left to talk about. that the time for explanations had passed. that the person he had kissed on that rooftop was a reminder of just how little you mattered.

but instead, you looked at him, emotion swirling within you, threatening to choke you. “what is there to talk about, lando?” you forced the words out, cold and sharp. “you already made your choice.”

he flinched, and it cut deeper than you intended. but it didn’t matter. you weren’t the one who needed to apologize.

his voice faltered, guilt and regret swimming in his eyes. “i never meant for it to happen like this. i—I thought you weren’t coming, and i was confused…”

“you were confused?” you repeated, your laugh bitter, hollow. “you thought i wasn’t coming? what was i supposed to think, lando? you kissed her like it was nothing. like i wasn’t even real.”

oscar’s hand slid from your back to your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in a silent show of solidarity. you squeezed his hand, drawing strength from his presence.

lando’s face crumpled, and for a brief moment, you saw a flash of the man you used to love. but it was fleeting, and the ache of that realization only made your heart feel heavier.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “i should’ve waited. i should’ve told you what was going on. i should’ve…” he trailed off, looking helpless.

but you didn’t need his apologies. not anymore.

“no, you shouldn’t have. you shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place,” you said, your voice steady, but the pain in your chest was real. “i don’t need your excuses. i just need you to understand that i’m done.”

there was no satisfaction in the words. no catharsis. you just felt… empty.

oscar’s grip on your hand tightened. you could feel the quiet support, the strength in his quiet presence. and you realized then that he wasn’t just offering comfort. he was offering a future. a future that lando couldn’t be a part of.

“come on,” oscar said, giving your hand a gentle tug. “let’s get some air.”

you turned away from lando, walking with oscar toward the door. there was a lump in your throat, but you held your head high. you didn’t look back. not even once. you had no need to.

oscar’s soft chuckle broke the silence as you stepped outside, the cool night air feeling like a welcome balm against the heaviness that had been suffocating you inside.

“guess i’ll have to fight for your attention now, huh?” he said, his voice playful, but there was a warmth there that you hadn’t realized you needed.

you smiled, just a little. “i think you’re already winning.”

oscar stopped walking for a moment, his hand gently brushing your hair from your face. when his eyes met yours, there was something there that wasn’t just friendship. something new. something real.

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed it. you believed in the future, in the possibility of moving on.

“i’m here,” he said softly, his voice a promise.

and this time, you didn’t feel the need to look back at the past. because with oscar by your side, the future was already beginning.

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @oddends, @mimisweetz, @theselilwonders, @superlegend216, @shigarika, @executioner-s, @fastandcurious16, @landofotographyy, @star73807-blog, @staple-your-mouth, @milkysoop, @ashopeworld, @ilovemeni, @shininfate, (i hope i got everyone!)

[araybiaaa]

❝ temptation.❞  ‎ elias ‘stack’ moore x black!fem oc

ooo. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔… modern!au, tension, flirting, cunnilingus (cause every man in this movie is a muncher!) black!fem oc, explicit sexual content.

ooo. 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔… where a good girl falls into temptation after she meets elias ‘stack’ moore.

ooo. 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔… soooo i wanted to try something different and do a modern!au with stack. (smoke’s still my favorite twin. the real girlies get it!) but i wanted to challenge myself a bit here.. this idea honestly came out of nowhere. i opened a03 and just started typing and somewhere down the line it became a one shot with 5k+ words?? 😭 also just wanted to say tysm for all of the love on my other fics. smoke and annie are near and dear to my heart and i’m glad you guys enjoyed my interpretations/writings for them. just a fair warning, the girl in this is very unserious but who wouldn’t be if you saw a vampire that looked like mbj! requests are open so send in something if you’d like — just keep in mind of my rules. anyway. likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! ◡̈

“he’s dangerous. if you had any common sense you’d stay away from him.” their words seemed portent at first; a precautionary warning that had her wary of him. she didn’t know him but she’s heard enough stories about him to know that he was feared by everyone. his reputation was something akin of their town’s own boogeyman or freddy kreuger — he was dangerous, menacing and someone to be fearful of.

cleo hadn’t been in town long enough to know if his reputation superseded him or if the rumor’s held some weight of validity in them but her curiosity was piqued to meet the guy that had people hurriedly locking their doors when the sun went down and removing the welcome mats off of their front porches.

at first, she wondered if everyone in town had collectively decided to pull a prank on her as some sort of initiation or simply for their own amusement. because to her elias moore seemed more like a ghost than a vampire. she lurked outside after hours, even against their warnings — completely foolish and naive, but she never saw him around.

she doesn’t know why she wants to see him so bad, maybe it’s because everyone else has and she feels strangely left out. or maybe it’s because she needs to see for herself if there was a world where mythical creatures existed outside of the cheesy television shows she used to watch and the books that she read. but much to her dismayed defeat, time continued on with her being the only one who had yet to meet the feared elias moore.

“what does he look like?” she asked, feigning innocence behind her curiosity that her best friend, naomi easily sees through and narrows a pointed glare at her. “what? i just want to know in case i see him around somewhere!” she murmurs with a halfhearted shrug. it didn’t seem like an actual possibility with how she hadn’t so far, but she didn’t want naomi to know that she was willingly seeking him out.

naomi sighs, pursing her lips as she tapped her manicured fingers against her thigh. after a moment’s contemplation, she reveals: “i’ve only seen him around a few times. he doesn’t look like any of those sick looking vampire that you see on tv. he’s actually…fine.” at this, cleo’s eyebrows raise in amusement at her friend’s description. “he has this look about him that makes you weak in the knees whenever he smiles at you. it’s effortlessly sexy and his eyes — just don’t look in them too long cause you’re gonna find yourself wanting him to turn you into a vampire too just so you can spend the rest of eternity with him. i’m only telling you this because you asked, but don’t go around asking anyone else about him. you don’t want your daddy finding out about it.”

cleo nodded in agreement, but still found her mind wandering about him. she knows that naomi’s right, her overly religious father would have an aneurysm if he’d found out that she was asking questions about the town’s social pariah. but that didn’t stop her from visualizing him through naomi’s description.

she’s only ever heard of naomi speaking negatively about elias so for her to refer to him as fine despite her disliking of him had intrigued cleo. “yeah, you’re right. i was just curious but now i know.”

naomi’s pointed glare deepens, like she doesn’t fully believe cleo. “girl…stay away from him for your own good. trust me. i know another girl who was curious about him just like you are and she got turned.” cleo wonders if she’s just saying that to scare her away, but surprisingly it doesn’t.

“i hear you,” naomi hums in acknowledgment but thankfully doesn’t reprimand her any further about her curiosity.

…

sometimes cleo makes smart decisions.

when it came to school and her grades, everything was always calculated in her mind for her to choose the best possible outcome. she was annoying obsessive like that — always planning ahead, analyzing and assessing even the most mundane things that infiltrated her life. but other times, on seldom occasions, she makes not-so-smart decisions; one’s that has her acting impulsively and deviating from her normally pristine behavior.

she was supposed to be going back to her dorm room to get ready for a party that she was planning on going to with naomi. it was twelve o’clock and she had just finished an exasperating nine hour bartending shift with annoying alcoholics flirting with her and their heady, glossed over eyes staring at her ass in the tight fitted jeans that she was wearing.

her dad was less than pleased about her place of employment, but he knew that she needed extra money to pay for her clothes, shoes, hair and other miscellaneous items so he refrained from making any comments anytime she she complained about a customer or the minimal pay that she was getting.

cleo was closing the bar; wiping down the sticky counters, recounting the money in the register and overturning the chairs when she looks up and sees him. he’s standing across the street but even with the distance set between them she can feel the smolder of his gaze as he looked at her. cleo stands there for a brief moment just staring back at him until she mustered enough courage to make her way to the front door.

the overhead bell rings in a soft bellow as she pushes the door open. the humidity of the mississippi air sticks against her skin as soon as she steps outside. but even with its scorching temperatures, elias’ stare pierces deeper and has her skin burning. when she steps outside, she sees him making his way towards her — his gait was stealth and calculated.

she feels goosebumps prickle along her skin, air catches in her lungs and warmth curls around her neck as he sauntered closer. the first thing that she noticed was that although naomi had been right in her description of him, she had greatly undermined it. he wasn’t just fine; he was handsome and she could already feel her knees buckling weakly beneath her just at the sight of him. the second thing she notices is his eyes and the phosphorescent glow of red in his pupils. when he finally reaches her, he stands athwart from her and slowly drags his eyes over her body. his eyes find hers again and for a moment she wonders if she could hear the hastened beating of her heart.

“it’s kinda late for you to be out here ain’t it?” he posits and the deepened drawl of his southern accent somehow makes him more attractive.

cleo swallows a shaky breath, nodding. “i’m closing up the bar. we just closed about ten minutes ago,”

he raises his brows, trailing his eyes somewhere offside. “and they just left you to do it by yourself? don’t they know it’s dangerous people out here? vampires walkin’ about like they’re humans.” he says with sarcasm lilting in his voice and clicks his tongue against his teeth with a reprimanding tsk that follows.

cleo juts her chin outwardly. “i’m more than capable of handling myself.” she rebuttals, her hand perched on her hip as she looked at him.

his eyes find hers again and he smirks impishly, nodding his head. “i’m sure.” he says; and it’s something hidden in the way that he says it that has her cheeks warming again. a moment passes between them as he stares at her with an intrigued expression worn on his face. “you ain’t scared of me,” it’s more of a statement than a question, though she knows it’s intended to be the latter.

he sounds and looks surprised by this, that he’d finally encountered someone that didn’t run away when they saw him. “am i supposed to be?” she was more attracted to him than anything, unable to stop looking at his lips and his bared fangs that peeked out from his mouth.

he shrugs, “everyone else is.”

“well i’m not everyone else,” at that he doesn’t respond, only smirks at her again making the butterflies she feels in her stomach somersault deeper. cleo bites her lip as she looks over her shoulder towards the bar. ‘don’t ever invite him in anywhere, that’s how he gets you.’ she ignores her father’s words, pushing them to the back of her mind. “you wanna come in?”

he raises another brow, “you want me to come inside?” this time it’s her that shrugs and he only gives her a brief dubious look of contemplation before he’s following her inside of the bar at her open invitation. she could feel his eyes honed in on her ass and unlike with the drunken middle aged men from before, she isn’t repulsed at the realization.

“you know, at first i thought people were lying about who you are. it seemed like everyone knew what you looked like except for me.” she says, folding her arms against her chest and watching his eyes lower to her perked breast. she bites on her lip, intrigued.

“you were lookin’ for me?”

she nods briefly, “i wanted to know what you looked like.”

he walks towards her until he’s standing directly in front of her; way closer than he was when they were standing outside and it catches her slightly off guard. “well now that you have…whatchu think?” the remark is undeniably coquettish — the soft murmur of it accompanied by the lascivious look that he’s giving her has her pinned beneath his gaze.

“i think you’re not as scary as people make you out to be,” she responds; avoiding the answer that she knows he was truly searching for. but he settles for this one too, indulging in her retreat.

“you think you can make that assumption from a five minute conversation? what if i am like everyone says?” the air between them shifts into this palpable tension; hot and undeniable. he takes a few more steps forward until he’s hovering his heightened figure over her. she cranes her neck to look up at him, “i could bite you right now and you wouldn’t be able to do anythin’ about it”

“if you wanted to you would’ve done it outside,” she rebuttals, seeing the twitch of his curled upper lip.

“maybe i like playin’ with my food before i eat it.” and the innuendo behind his words has her breath hitching.

her skin pricks with goosebumps again at his teasing words. elias takes immediate notice of it; his nostrils flare as he inhales sharply with his heightened senses. and it takes a moment for her to realize that he must smell something radiating off of her body — arousal? excitement? — because he’s chuckling and licking his lips as he reached his hand out and brushed it over her hip. she shivers, not out of fear but of arousal. “and you sure as hell look and smell good enough to eat.”

cleo’s mouth gapes the only audible sound that comes out is a soft gasp. it’s the sound of her phone ringing that suddenly clefts through the tension hanging in the air. she jumps, startled, looking at elias whose eyes narrow at her phone like he’s inwardly cursing it for its intrusion. she reluctantly moves out of his grasp and walks over to pick up her phone that was sat at the edge of the counter.

picking up the phone she sees that it’s a text from naomi asking where she’s at. she’d gotten so distracted with elias that she forgot that she was supposed to meet naomi at their dorm room half an hour ago. she types a quick message in response, telling her that closing up took longer than expected and that she should go ahead to the party without her and that she would just meet her there instead.

she looks up from her phone at the same time elias is already walking out of the door, the sound of the bell ringing announces his departure as cleo stands there with her mind replaying their interaction.

…

a week passes before she sees him again. he’s standing outside of the door; staring, watching, waiting. she walks towards the entrance and holds the door open, beckoning him forward. “come in,” he walks inside as she closes the door behind him.

“you weren’t here the other night.” he says, catching her slightly by surprise. had he been looking for her this time instead of the other way around?

“oh, yeah. i was off. i don’t work on tuesdays and thursdays,” she explains watching as he nodded before looking away with a sheepish expression. after their last encounter, she spent the entire week thinking about him — how he looked at her, how his hand felt against her bare skin. cleo didn’t understand how she developed such a quick attraction for him, especially when she didn’t even give human boys any time of the day, but something about him was different.

naomi was right, all it took was one look from him and cleo found herself a fallen victim to his charm. “why aren’t you scared of me?”

she’s taken aback again, even more so than the first time. “why do you want me to be?” she challenges, noticing the pull of his jaw as he clenches it shut.

“your daddy’s a preacher ain’t he?” she furrows her brow, curious to know how he’d figured that out without her telling him. “how you think he’d react if he knew you were stayin’ behind after work to talk to me?”

ah, so that’s what this is about.

“well aside from me being grown and fully capable of making my own decisions, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” and she would definitely keep this secret from him for his sake and hers. “elias—”

“stack.” he interrupts to correct her.

“elias,” she says, unmoored by his correction. he gives her a look but listens as she continued. “i’m not talking to you because i’m trying to prove something to my dad or anyone else here.”

“then why are you?”

“because i want to.” she exasperates, frowning slightly. “why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“because you don’t know what you’re gettin’ yourself into,” elias retorts through a forewarning tone that sounded all too familiar of her family and friends who initially warned her away from him. he was right, aside from the fictionalized information that she got through old cw shows she used to frequently watch, she didn’t understand the depth and complications that came along with being a vampire. but her interest in elias made her want to know more — she wanted the truth and all its ugliness.

“then show me.”

…

elias stack moore had a tarnished reputation way before he got bit and transformed into a vampire. albeit he was the more level headed of the two, the smoke-stack twins were well known for their violent behavior and short fused tempers. their involvement with the notorious al capone and then stack becoming involved in a near ritualistic slaughter hadn’t done anything to ease anyone’s perception of him. his reputation expanded over the near century with people reciting tales of his life; often times dramatizing it completely.

but regardless of the half-truths or stack’s solemn search for penance — he still remained feared to the point where people would refrain from staying outside at night too long just to avoid him. he kept mostly to himself, only indulging in his sexual needs with a few other vampires that lived amongst the town. if he did leave his house, he made sure it was brief just to avoid any inadvertent run in’s.

he knew he was feared and had stories told about him that would give kids nightmares. but she was surprisingly the only one that didn’t tremble in fear when she saw him or tightly clutch her cross necklace and recite scripture from the bible in hopes it would protect them and keep him away like everyone else did. instead of running she gravitated towards him; accepting and intrigued by him in a way he hadn’t felt before.

he was wary at first of getting close to her.

she had a reputation as the preacher’s sweet and innocent daughter. he could only imagine the outcry that would erupt if anyone were to find out that she had been talking to him. but cleo insisted that she didn’t care and expressed interest in wanting to see/know him — all of him. so he invited her to his house.

she came over at work — still dressed in those tight jeans and that cropped shirt that accentuated her lithe physique — all wide eyed and innocent and fucking gorgeous.

as soon as she stepped over the threshold and inside, he felt something shift in the air as he realized that she was the first girl he’d ever invited into his house. he watches her as she looks around spectatingly, crouching over a bit with her hands on her knees to look at the display of photos that he had. “your brother?” she asks rhetorically as she looked at the candid black-and-white photograph that he had of him and smoke taken years back during the time of their youth.

stack nods tersely, pursing his lips in a moue.

and he’s grateful that she notices his reluctance and doesn’t prod any further because even though it’s been over a century since his brother’s death, it was still hurt carrying him around in his memories.

it’s stack who segues the conversation, now turning the spotlight on her. “you said you wanted me to show you, so what do you wanna know?”

cleo bites her lip in thought. stack’s mind is briefly distracted with how sexy she looks that he doesn’t initially hear her question until she asks it again.

“it took me a while to learn how to do it. i taught myself most of what i know, the guy who turned my ex that turned me didn’t teach me much. but it’s the first thing i taught myself.”

she nods, biting on her lip again as she lowered her eyes in a shy chagrin. “so that night at the bar…when you sniffed me what did you smell?”

“you really wanna know?” she looks up, almost contemplative, but nods. “lust. your hormones were all over the place.” her expression’s caught somewhere between mortification and a grimace. “my hearin’ is heightened too…i can hear your heart beatin’ fast as hell. you nervous?”

at her nod, he posits. “cause of me? why do i make you nervous?” he takes a preemptive step towards her, closing the distance between them. he hears her pulse quicken. smells the saltiness of sweat underneath the floral saccharine of her perfume.

she doesn’t respond, only looks at him underneath her lashes. “what else do want me to show you, cleo?” her breath hitches, eyes flit from his lips back up to his eyes in a quick maneuver. her heart beats louder and the smell of her arousal is so thick that he can almost taste it on his tongue. he inhales her scent; feeling his own arousal mix with hers.

he sees her throat stretch as she swallows.

…

it’s almost feral how he bares an arm around her waist and tugged her body closer to his. she gasps a bit at his onslaught — startled by the abruptness of his movements, but she’s immediately relaxing into his embrace the moment he brushes his mouth against hers. he kisses her with a ravenous vigor, sliding his tongue over the cupping of her lower lip as a terse plea for entry. she whimpers before she succumbs to his prowess, slacking her jaw wider as he intertwined their tongues.

his kisses are bruising and greedy to the point where he steals all the air that was in her lungs. it’s a slip of tongues and a crash of teeth messily colliding, through guttural groans and breathy whimpers. stack’s arms tighten their hold around her before lowering to her ass. he squeezes her through her jeans before giving it a firm smack; smirking at the way it ricocheted. he gives it another hard squeeze as his mouth nipped at the exposed flesh of her neck. “tell me what you want,” he rasps; gruff and throaty, his breath hot against her skin.

his lips pucker as he nipped at her skin; sucking deep, purple love-bites all over. (and it feels so good that she doesn’t even care that she’ll have to cover up the evidence of his markings with makeup to hide from her father and naomi.) she grips the back of his head, holding him against her as she fluttered her lashes and indulged in the pleasure.

“this,” she whispered, voice shaky, body trembling with an intense want. he groans against her neck; alternating between nipping and sucking. and he gets too into it because she hears a low sound that mimics a growl and feels the sharpness of his fangs grazing her clavicle. she gasps, taken back and he’s immediately recoiling — looking up at her with his swollen lips and lidded eyes.

“fuck. i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—sometimes when i get too excited it happens. but i wasn’t trying to…” he’s panicking, careening apologies to her. but she’s sliding her mouth over his and kissing him deeply with fervor.

“it’s okay,” she whispers, still pecking at his lips.

stack furrows his brow, “yeah?”

“just don’t bite too hard.”

he nods, lightly grazing his teeth into the softness of her flesh. he nibbles at her neck with the tip of his bared fangs biting deliciously into her skin. the pain is sharp but still pleasurable enough to have her eyes rolling to the back of her head. his hands make their way to the front of her body, sliding over her abdomen and hovering at the waistband of her jeans. she breathes softly through her parted lips, emanating a whimper when he bites into her lower lip. “you smell so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, reaching his hands between the crux of her thighs and sliding his thumb over her slit — passing the pleasure over the seam of her jeans.

her underwear suddenly becomes sticky with her arousal and knowing that he could smell it on her was sending her over the edge. she feels this incessant pleasure building; coiling in her stomach and spreading through the heat of the place where she desired him the most. “can i taste you?” at her consenting nod, he maneuvers them towards the couch and eases her down onto the cushion.

he pries their wet lips apart with a ‘smack’, a string of saliva draws at their disconnection. she holds the smother head of his gaze, watching as he lowers to his knees. “lift your hips up for me,” he murmurs, already working at the buttons and zippers of her pants that loosen around her hips.

she concedes, arching her hips off of the couch just enough so that stack’s hands are able to tug the tight fitted fabric over her hips and down her thighs. “look at you,” he says; marveling at the sight of her arousal. the dark spot is visible against her pink underwear — soddening through the fabric. “already so wet and ready for me.” he kisses the inside of her thighs, nudging the bridge of his nose against her cunt.

she shivers through a moan, it’s just the barest of contact but she’s hypersensitive to his touch. his deft fingers pull at her ruined underwear, sliding them down her legs and absentmindedly throwing them aside so that she’s sat completely bare in front of him.

her cheeks warm at her vulnerability.

stack’s hand brushes against her calf as he gripped her leg and hefted it easily over his left shoulder. his eyes hone in on her cunt as she spreads open; staring in awe at the slick that’s gathered between her folds. he grabs at her other leg, barring it around his right shoulder until he’s got a perfect position of her cunt displayed in front of him.

cleo arches her hips slightly, holding herself upright as she rests the palms of her hand against the cushions. her heartbeat quickens at the desire that grows, palpable and thick in its emerging, sending another jolting throb directly into her cunt. she could feel the wisps of his breath as he leaned in. he brushes a teasing kiss against her thigh, humming softly at the way she shivers in response.

he nudged himself closer towards her cunt; pressing soft kisses against her skin in passing before he finally reaches the place where he could smell the the evidence of her want. he presses a kiss against it and she shudders, feeling the tension roll down her spine and curl into her toes. she doesn’t even have a moment to gather her bearings, because then he’s flattening his tongue and licking her up from the back of her perineum to her clitoris. “oh—fuck. s-stack,” she bellows a soft cry of pleasure, her hands grip into the couch to seek purchase.

and when he reaches the over sensitive bud, he puckers his swollen lips and sucks her into his mouth; skillfully using his tongue to massage her clit. she feels the texture of his tongue stimulating her clit, sending an overwhelming wave of pleasure burning through the crevices of her body. her breath catches in her throat and she’s shivering so hard that stack has to pull his mouth away to remind her to breathe.

she nods numbly, blinking through the fogginess of her vision. she parts her lips and exhaled shakily; attempting to lull her breathing. “grind your hips against my face,” she whimpers, reaching a hand up to hold the back of his neck to anchor herself as she slowly rolled her hips against his face.

“ohmygo—” the added pressure of his nose and tongue assaulting her clit has her dizzy. his hands grip her hips, fingers dig into the meat of her thighs holding her against him.

he makes his way up her vulva; pausing right before he reached her clit and increased the pressure so that the base of his tongue was forced slightly under her clit. he slows his movements, unrelentingly in his ravenous feat as he holds the pressure there. she grinds against him again, shaky, still trembling through her movements as she buried his face deeper into her cunt.

she could hear the lewd stickiness of her slick as he licked up her pussy; could see it glistening over his face — a messy mixture of her arousal and his saliva dripping down his chin. she’s already shaking towards her release but then he grazes his fangs softly against her clit and she’s suddenly bellowing out cries of pleasure as she cums.

she pulsates around his tongue, the tension tugs in her lower belly. he slides his thumb through her slickness, watching as she haphazardly falls backwards against the couch cowering away from the overstimulation. stack pulls away, lapping his tongue around his mouth as he licked up the remnants of her slick. “you okay?” he asked through a rasped breath, watching as she laid there in a dazed stupor.

she nods, just barely, feeling the heaviness of her breathing begin to lull. cleo never thought that someone as smart as her would be drawn into the temptation from a vampire, but here she was — with her cunt still throbbing around nothing, legs and body completely spent, eyes looking at his face that’s covered in her juices, and it entices her.

and it’s then that she realizes that she was totally and completely fucked. he’d warned her that she didn’t know what she would be getting herself into if she became involved with him but with the way he ate her pussy out so good and had her wanting more, cleo realized that she was willing to test the boundaries of her restraint.

…

cleo didn’t like lying, she’s always prided herself about being a truthful person regardless of the repercussions that could follow. she didn’t like people lying to her so in return, she treated everyone with the same decency of respect and remained truthful about everything. it’s not until she starts dating stack that lying easily becomes integrated into her life.

she goes to church with her father every sunday, sits in the front pew and listens as he recites sermons and scriptures about demons and evils that plagued the world. it guilted her knowing that he was wistfully unaware of the fact that she was bedding with someone he referred to as one of the demons that walked amongst them, but the way he made her feel was better than anything she’s ever experienced before.

so she keeps the secret buried deeply, and listens halfheartedly at his preachings as she finds her mind wandering on stack again. it’s easier to hide behind her fib with her father, but naomi’s naturally pestering curiosity always gets the better of her and a simple response of “i already have something planned.” does not offer enough of a rational explanation for her.

“you’ve been acting weird these past few weeks…” she acknowledges with a skeptical brow and pursed lips. she narrows her gaze in on cleo who desperately hopes that she doesn’t look too hard enough to see the hickies stack sucked on her shoulder and breast the other night. “you’re here during the day, but always sneak out to go somewhere at night like you’re meeting someone,” she accents, her perception’s dangerously close to discovering cleo’s secret.

“i’m not.” the lie falls disbelieving to both of their ears. naomi gives her a narrowed look, tilting her head. she bites on her lip in contemplation, sighing softly as she concedes. “okay! but you can’t say anything to anyone especially not my dad.”

naomi gives her a bemused look but nods.

“i might be seeing someone,” cleo murmurs, averting her eyes to naomi to see her eyebrows raise. “i am seeing someone. but don’t ask who! because i’m not going to tell you who it is. i’m only telling you this because i know you wouldn’t stop hounding me if i didn’t.”

naomi stands there quiet, considering her words. “is he married?”

“what!?” cleo beseeches, frowning at her friend’s absurd accusation. “girl, no! i am not a fucking homewrecker!”

“hey, it’s a fair assumption!” naomi rebuttals, raising her hands in the air at her defense. “you’re being sneaky and sleeping over at his place at night… it made me think that you only go over there because that’s the only time that you’re allowed to.”

“no. i’m not fucking a married man.” cleo states. she continued to stuff her clothes in her overnight bag, avid to get to stack’s place. she could feel naomi’s he eyes still piercing through her, curiosity sits on her tongue wanting to inquire further about the guy’s identity. but she thankfully relents, only giving cleo a hum of acknowledgment when she grabs her bag and clamors a parting bye as she walks out.

when she arrives at his house, she’s greeted with a smile and kiss, his arm wraps around her waist as she melts softly into the embrace. he maneuvers her bag from her hands, allowing to to fall absentmindedly to the floor with a loud thud. his hands are groping her everywhere; sliding over her ass, squeezing her titties, palming her cunt through the flimsy pair of leggings that she wore. it’s almost feral how both of their bodies aligned with the same wanton desire.

she loves how the outside world becomes a distant memory for them as they remain secluded in the privacy of his house with no worries of interruption or ridicule waiting. “if you had any common sense you’d stay away from him,” had been a warning, but she found herself gravitating towards him despite their attempts of deterrence. and she had no intentions of letting go of this feeling or him.

[zepskies]

ehehe I know I'm on the right track if I can make you laugh, Wayne! 😂💜

Ah yes, classic man with his "I'm fine." He'd probably still say, halfway through bleeding to death 😂

😆😆 Dean:

Hahaha such a good point! Hard to argue with that 😆

lol right? If he's not complaining about someone else driving his Baby, then something's clearly amiss. 😂

Yup, and have Sam stich you up with tooth floss, right, big boy? 😂

ahhaha "big boy" took me out, but yeah that floss is really gonna cut it 😂

While she's filling out his form, I had Ross and Joey in my head, too 😂

omg YES, that's the idea lmao. And you found the kidney stones gif!! 🤣🤣 I raise you with:

Awww, yeah ❤️‍🩹 But that's such a good point! Since Dean survived the finale and nothing ever happened in that barn, he has to face his mortality in a way. The "Fuck, what happens when I'm old and wrinkly" phase 😅

Quite literally all of that (glossing over 15x20 like જ⁀➴), and I just like the grounded humanness of Sam and Dean having to deal with the potential resulting health issues from decades of hunting, getting knocked out and stitched back together again, living on the road, etc. 😂

The ending was so wholesome! And I imagined the reader from Midnight Espresso. She was so warm, caring, stubborn, and sassy, too. Totally gave me the same vibes! 😭💜

You know how to get me all warm fuzzy like, friend! loll I'm so glad this made you think of the Midnight Espresso-verse. 🥹💜💜 She's very much all of those things, and like Dean, a natural nurturer, so he has someone in his corner really looking after his wellbeing in the "healthy and cared for" sense. Not just the "ya good?" 😂

Oh, Beau... Not the prostate exam 😂🫶 Btw, I loved how you switched up the different doctors for each of them! The kind of doctor fit their personalities so well too and made it even funnier 🤣

ahaha I thought it was fitting for him!! 😝 Aw thank you for pointing that out! I try to fit each situation with what's best for the character, and on this one I felt like showcasing different kinds of medical situations would be a fun way to do that. For some reason Beau always gets the (hopefully) funny everyday domestic issues 😆

Aaaah, I love that you incorporated this!!! Totally sounds like something he'd do too. Probably Jenny, Denise, and Cassie heard the same thing. He went on about it for days lmao

You've been on a roll recently giving me such good tidbits! lol Omg yeeeees he'd be complaining the whole week of post-man flu, probably even asking Denice if she can spy anything weird down his throat 🤣

Ugh, so true... Been trying to get my husband to go to one (and also been trying to get him to have a weird mole checked out for ten years. The argument: it hasn't changed in all that time, so it's probably fine 🙈😂)

oh my Goooood - men. 🤣 He needs to get that checked out! And isn't/wasn't he a military man? What's he afraid of?? 😂

Dead 💀🤣🤣🤣 (And on a side note: that aspect should be more featured in fics lol)

*snorts* not gonna lie, I was pretty proud of this line lmfao (idk why it's the first time I've referenced that kind of thing - maybe bc I'm not personally turned on by it that much, but I agree that it's a legit thing that isn't focused on as much in fanfic lol)

Oh, I'd make so many jokes when he comes back. Probably buy him donuts and other hole-shaped treats 😆

DEAD. Deceased. 🤣🤣 But I love how your mind works lolll. HC that she "rewards" him by buying him a dozen 🍩🍩🍩

Fuck, Alex... Ben fucking killed me! The fact that you picked a therapist was just hilariously delicious 😂

Girl I haaad to! 😜 Like, he would never go to the doctor anyway because he probably doesn't get sick enough to have to go, but a therapist? He definitely needs that appointment lol (or 12)

So true! I imagine it's hard staying level-headed with this man-child when he throws a tantrum. You almost have to talk louder to get through all of his white noise 🙈

Literally! It's like trying to be heard while a vacuum is going off. 🙄

But I'm really glad you thought his behavior in this was in character lol. He's kind of tricky as a character, but also predictable in some ways 🥲

That broke my heart a little, although it's so true 😭❤️‍🩹

Oh yeah, I broke my heart a little too on that one. 💙 I feel like that would be one of the few ways to get through to him in this situation.

Pffff 😂 Reminds me a little of that Rick & Morty episode where Rick refuses to go to therapy. I already feel bad for that psychiatrist 😆

LOL oh yeah, definitely feel bad for Dr. David on this one. He's gonna get an earful 😂😂

And of course Russell, much like Dean, is too "tough" for a doctor. A bullet wound you say? Nah, totally heals itself lol

Michelle said it in the comments -- there's a reason why women live longer in general lmfaooo

Hahaha I fucking knew she was checking him for injuries! Would've done the same thing 😂🫶 (Also, Russell, what did you expect? Sex? In this condition????)

Oh 100% she was after she clocked the way he was coming in 😂😂 (Russell's clearly an opportunist! 😆)

Again:

You need a hospital not a hardware store, you big idiot!!! God 😂🙈

LOL this comment had me deadd 💀

But he's got pliers! And dental floss! And an old bottle of whiskey in the trunk! (which functions as both disinfectant and a pain reliever: 2-in-1!) 😝

Yes, honestly, please quit. I wouldn't be able to sleep dating that man. What if he never comes homes from a job? 😢😭💔

Right?? It would be so heartbreaking. Ooh or the angst of an "almost." 😬 I actually have a long distance relationship Jacklesverse bingo square that I think I'm gonna have to use on Russell 😅❤️‍🩹

And I'm really curious what her punishment would've been. I'd make him eat veggies only for a month. That would break him 😂😜

lmfao that'll do it! No meat or sweets? He'd break for sure. I can hear him already, half desperation and half his usual self -

"Sweetheart, man can't live on spinach alone. That's how you get kidney stones." 😆

These were all so wonderful and so effing funny, friend! You nail these HC every time!!! ☺️💜

Awww you're amazing, thank you!!! 🥰 I honestly love doing these HCs! It's always a nice little creative reset for me. I'm so happy that you enjoy them! 💕

HEADCANON: Doctor's Appointment

HC: How would Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw react when you try to take him to the doctor?

Pairings: Dean x Reader || Beau x Reader || Soldier Boy x Reader || Russell x Reader

AN: This one is a request from my lovely friend @spnbabe67 over on Patreon! 💜

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, literal man children, medical stuff, angst, mentions of PTSD, hints of spice, fluffff

Dean Winchester

"I'm fine."

Ah yes, the same two growly words you've heard for an hour already.

"You're not fine," you testily reply. "You're not even 'Winchester fine.' You wanna know how I know? I'm driving the damn car right now!"

Dean shoots you a warning look.

One, you can tell he wants to say watch it on how you talk about his Baby.

Two, he doesn't want to admit that you're right.

He shifts in his seat with his arms crossed, trying to cover up a wince. It's the only tell that he's uncomfortable, even in pain, other than the fact that you've managed to hijack his car and take him to this damn doctor's appointment.

Dean can count on one hand the number of times he's been in a doctor's office for a genuine ailment, and not just trying to fish for information while impersonating some form of law enforcement.

That's because he's more of a "pour some whiskey on it," patch it up, and forget about it kinda guy.

And if we're talking about hospital stays, then that's usually a "one step away from death's door" kind of visit.

But when you first noticed something was off with Dean (confirming with Sam on the side of your suspicions), you did your damnedest to convince the man that he should see a doctor.

You even make the appointment for him as convenient as possible, around midday, so he doesn't have the excuse of it being too early to disturb his morning, or too late to mess up his afternoon.

Dean is a grumbly grizzly bear who only rolls his eyes in the waiting room when you offer him the clipboard to fill out his medical history.

"This is stupid," he says. "It’s probably just gonna clear up in a week or so anyway."

"You don't know that," you say. And you heave a sigh. Sometimes this man requires every last ounce of your ever-thinning patience.

You reclaim the clipboard and do this part for him too, filling out his fake-ass insurance information with his fake-ass name.

You detail his history and current symptoms to the best of your ability, and you make sure to jot down certain visits to free clinics in his past that he'd probably gloss over.

When the nurse opens the door and calls him back to see the doctor, Dean still glances over at you, mostly annoyed. But underneath, you sense his hesitation.

You slip your hand into his and get up with him. You grace a kiss over his knuckles — a moment of solidarity — and you go with him to one of the back rooms.

You later have to bite your lip against the vindicated urge to say I told you so.

The doctor informs Dean that he likely has a kidney stone.

If possible, Dean is even more sour the whole car ride home. He's convinced all the vegetables you've been trying to get him to eat are the culprit.

"This is what I get for eating fucking rabbit food," he grumbles. He levies a finger at you. "See? I told you. Nothing good comes of it."

"Right," you snort. "Zucchini is what's got you're, uh, pipe all blocked up."

But seeing the disgruntled look on his face, you remember just how much pain he's been trying to cover up for the past week. How many times you've found him hunched in the bathroom, dreading a piss.

You reach over and try to soothe him, gently stroking his thigh.

"It's okay, baby. We'll get the official test results soon. In the meantime, just keep drinking lots of water and get some actual rest."

"Whatever," he mutters.

But underneath the embarrassment, the shit, I'm getting old bit cropping back up again, and the Dean Winchester quirk of not wanting to be fussed over, not wanting to be seen as weak or ridiculous — what finally surfaces past all that is you.

Specifically, how much you push him to take care of himself.

Besides Sam, you're the only one who manages to keep him in check, the only one who cares that much, that you'd literally try to steal his car.

Yeah, I love you tends to cut through pretty much all the other bullshit.

Dean might not always express it words, but he does it now, taking your hand off his lap and pressing a kiss to your wrist, right over your pulse point.

You briefly take your eyes off the road to glance over at him, smiling. He's going to be out of commission for a while until this little problem clears up, in more ways than one.

The great Dean Winchester.

Beats Death itself, too many times to count.

Felled by pebble in his...well...proverbial shoe.

You try to hide your amusement, if not your affection. You bite your lip hard.

"Shut up," he warns, even though his lips twitch upward.

Your snort of laughter escapes before you can reign it in.

Beau Arlen

Beau is resistant at first, but he's probably the easiest to wrangle into seeing the doctor, whether it's yearly checkups or a man flu gotten out of control.

("You know what, my throat still feels weird on the left side, especially when I swallow. Feels scratchy and, uh, kinda hurts. You think I should get it looked at? What if it's laryngitis, or pneumonia, or God forbid, throat cancer. I mean, throat cancer, honey! That's nothin' to laugh at.")

You wish he'd have that "proactive" mentality with other areas of his health too, like not overworking himself at the precinct.

But when it comes to one exam in particular, he's your typical male of a certain age.

No matter how many times you remind him and write down the appointment on the calendar stuck to the fridge so he doesn't forget, he conjures some excuse for why he couldn't make it.

At first it's begrudgingly amusing, but by the third time, you're concerned, and even annoyed that he isn't taking his health more seriously.

"Look, I know it's not exactly pleasant, but this stuff is important. You gotta take care of yourself," you say.

You know you don't have to remind him that he has a daughter, but you will pull that card if you have to.

"Yeah, I know. It's just, uh..." Beau trails off, hands on his hips. He doesn't know what to tell you to make you understand how much he'd rather not go to this appointment.

"It's just a prostate exam, babe. I'll bet it's not half as invasive as a pap smear," you say wryly.

Beau shakes his head at you. "That very well may be, but believe you me, no man wants a latex finger up his..."

You raise your brows and tilt your head with a smile. "Well, you know. Some guys actually—"

Beau waves a hand at whatever you were going to say next.

"You know what, forget I said anything. I'd rather just live my life not knowing what's down there. Really, I'm good."

You utter a laugh, but you sidle up to him and grasp the open edges of his jacket. You turn your face up to him with a more sensuous smile.

"You don't mind when I do it," you tease.

Beau actually blushes. His cheeks and the tips of his ears tinge pink.

He clears his throat, his hands settling on the curve of your waist.

"Well, that's different," he says. His voice pitches lower, his green eyes taking on a slight mischievous gleam. "You're just teasin' the cave. You're not looking for coal."

Laughter bursts out of you like a gut punch. Your forehead falls against his chest as your entire body shakes with giggles.

Beau wraps you up in his arms. He tries and fails to temper his grin, even though his cheeks are still burning.

"All right, fine. I'll go," he says. "But I don't want to hear a damn peep out of you when I get back."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

(Oh, good fucking luck on this one.)

Ben rarely, if ever, gets sick. Of course, he's also nearly invulnerable.

However, you've been trying to get him to see a different kind of medical professional.

"Excuse me?" he growls. The first time you suggest it, he dismissed the idea with a roll of his eyes, thinking you were just trying to get a rise out of him. He doesn't appreciate you bringing it up again. "You better be fucking kidding."

"Ben..." You try to ply him with a gentle hand on his arm, but he shrugs you off, too irritated to curb the impulse.

"I'm fucking crazy, is that it? That what you're trying to say?" His voice raises, notch after notch. "I don't need a goddamn shrink!"

"I didn't say you were crazy!" you say. It's hard not to match his volume, but you manage to stand your ground while he huffs and puffs and eventually storms out.

You get discouraged and frustrated yourself, but you cling to every scrap of patience you can muster up for this man.

It's gonna take a few tries.

You start to suggest that maybe he should start easing up on the weed and the booze too.

Any time he snaps at you, you remind him that for as much shit as you've put up with him so far, this is the kind of shit that'll send you packing. Leaving his ass. For good.

He volleys back with empty words. "Fine, fucking leave."

You know they're empty, because every time you've called his bluff and packed a bag, he stops you.

"All right, enough. You've proved your fucking point."

After that, he tries to cut back on the booze, at least. He watches you pour out the Grey Goose and the Patrón.

Fucking fine by him. He's lost the taste for vodka, let alone that frilly French shit, and the cheap tequila.

But choking off the vein of one vice just makes another twice as strong.

Ultimately, it doesn't fix the problem either.

There's the time Ben blows a hole in the roof of your house (after a nightmare, he refuses to admit).

And there's a second time too. A third close call, and Ben pushes you clean off the bed so you won't get hurt.

If that didn't do it, he finally gets the picture after the second pink line appears on that white stick.

It now lies on your nightstand while you and Ben lay tangled together, bare skin against bare, flushed, sweaty skin.

A celebration, if you will.

His big hand lies splayed over your belly, protective, possessive, and deep down...grateful.

You glance up at the patched ceiling. Ben follows your gaze. His contentment fades into a frown, just like yours.

Both of you are thinking the same thing, if in different flavors of concern. Anxiety. (Guilt.)

"It's different now. You know that, right?" you say quietly. "If we're going to do this, you and me together, then I need you to protect us. Protect us from you."

At this point, you know he won't see a psychiatrist for his PTSD; not if it's to help himself (God forbid he admit that he needs it).

But if it's to protect you and your child, his own child...

Ben swallows a few acidic ounces of his pride.

Despite every cell in body that fights against it, he gets in his car the very next day and shows up for the appointment you made for him with Dr. David.

("What kind of quack fucking doctor goes by his first name, anyway? Christ.")

After the first couple of painfully awkward sessions, it's not so bad, Ben discovers.

He has a willing (heavily paid) audience for all of his stories from "the good old days."

Every gushy detail.

Russell Shaw

Russell is always quick to give reassurances, to downplay, to tell you that he's good.

But the day he comes home from a job with his bag hanging from his fingertips, almost dragging on the floor, his movements stiff as a rail — your heart sinks into your stomach.

"Hey, baby," he greets you tiredly, even tries to kiss you, but you're too busy running gentle hands over his arms and chest. Searching.

"Hmm, someone's missed me. Miss Handsy-yy-ahhh..." His playful quip dies the moment you find it.

Under his jacket lies the shoddy patch job on the bullet wound in his arm, located a few inches below the shoulder, just barely hidden by his sleeve.

"What the fuck is this?" you snap, half in anger, half in worry as tears spring hot in your eyes.

Russell immediately goes into damage control, soothing a hand down your arm and meeting your gaze.

"Hey, I'm okay. It's just a graze."

"Yeah fucking right. You're still bleeding!"

"Ehh, yeah, but no biggie. I've got some tools in the car—"

"No! We're going to the hospital."

"Sweetheart—"

"Right now! Let's go."

The man doesn't have the heart to argue with you too much after that. He knows he should've taken proper care of this before he got home. He really just wanted to, well, get home. To you.

But he regrets scaring you. He regrets making you worry.

He brushes the tears from your eyes and is grateful you don't ask what happened. He can't really tell you, even if he wanted to. His contract work with Horizon keeps his lips sealed for your safety, above all other reasons.

Only now does he begin to realize just how fucking unfair that is.

It really hits him when you sit with him for an hour and a half in the Emergency Department, waiting after the guy who fell off his moped, a kid with a little green army man stuck up his nose ("Hey, retro," Russell whispers to you), and a lady who can't seem to stop hiccuping.

Russell takes in a deep breath. He leans over to your ear.

"You know, we could just fix this up at home. A little needle and thread and some alcohol. Perfect First Aid kit," he says.

You narrow your gaze at him. "We're waiting to see a doctor. And don't think I'm done with you. When we get home, prepare to get punished."

A little smirk tugs at his lips. He brushes said lips across the back of your ear. "What am I, a little kid?"

You smile slightly as well.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me when you're hurt and try to cover it up like a little kid, that's how I'm gonna treat you."

Russell chuckles. His hand slips over your thigh.

"Gotta say, I'm kind of liking the sound of punishment. What'd you have in mind, sweetheart? Gonna spank me?"

And he's willing to give you more ideas.

You roll your eyes. Despite wanting to remain strong, his touch, the sensation of his lips brushing your ear sends a shiver curling down your spine.

"Oh, you just wait."

AN: lol I always have so much fun writing these. Let me know which one was your favorite this time! 💕

@waynes-multiverse You gave me another perfect little tidbit for Beau on Man Flu that made it into this one. 😂

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Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Russell Tag List (Part 1)

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@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2 @winchester-whiskey

[en-lov3r]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫! | 𝐩.𝐬.𝐡

Pairing— teacher!sunghoon x fem student!reader Sypnosis: Your handsome teacher, Mr. Park, is very disappointed in the truancies and tardies you developed over the past year, especially for his class. He gives you detentions every so often, thinking you would learn your lesson. Then one day, he complained and just had enough, all until you can't make him take your eyes off of you. Genre: Angst, Smut, forbidden love/romance, teacher x student, age gap (Sunghoon in mid 20s, while reader is barely 18) Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, throat fucking, overstimulation, orgasms, creampie, huge cock warning, oral, classroom sex, cheating, infidelity, adultery absent parents, phone sex, dick riding, verbal sex, not proofread, teasing Word Count: 3,294 words Note: Thank you so much for 200 followers! Like and repost if you enjoyed this.

It was a dark cloudy morning.

The day was yet to come. You started getting ready for school, dreading every moment. You were a failing student, barely passing any of your classes. You knew that your teachers won't even care to help, they tried to, effortlessly until they stopped putting in the effort. You sighed as you changed your clothes and unhastily took the bus to school. When you went out of the bus, you started to walk slow, not even caring about showing up for your first period, being history, you did show up on your seat, arriving late.

"Y/N. If you show up late or be absent once more, the school's going to take action against your parents, do you understand?"

Your eyes were fixated on the floor until you heard footsteps approaching, now black sleek shoes and pants appearing within your field of vision. You slowly turned up to gaze upon Mr. Park. His eyes looked a bit stern, as if he was going to each you alive. As much as all the students having a crush on him, it's surprising someone as stoic as him interacted with you more than anyone else at the school, well made sense considering your chronically almost present at his class.

"Call my parents. They're not even at the house anyway." You said

You rolled your eyes. You didn't care about him at all. All you cared about was going home. Your parents went off to vacation and they always send the money to take care of the bills and to pay for groceries. It was nice having to have time with only just yourself leisurely. Mr. Park then lowered his head and stared directly at you. You met eye contact, his expression looked a bit irritated, as if he wanted to slap at you.

"Your getting detention. again, after school." He replied

He then strutted as he calmly sat down on his chair.

Mr. Park always picked on you the most. A mad expression doesn't suit his handsome face at all. The rest of the students in the class quietly gossiped in loud chattering about you, as they turned their back once they saw the teacher sat down. You knew that it was only you that would make him feel like this. If only he wouldn't complain, then maybe, just maybe you would've enjoyed the sight of seeing him, just like the rest of the other students that have him as a teacher. You then continued with the rest of your classes, until the school day ended.

But it wasn't over for you just yet. You entered his class as you tried to avoid his gaze upon you, with such hard intent you felt like he was shooting knifes to you when he wasn't. When you sat down, Mr. Park started coming towards you, until he stopped.

"Y/N." He forcefully said, slapping a paper with his hand onto your desk, "do you know how many times you were absent or late?" he says with a stern look.

Shocked by his approach, you averted your eyes as you slowly saw your attendance on the paper he showed. You didn't know what to feel, guilty?

"And?" You responded back

He looked to be disgusted. Part of his eyes twitched while he bit his lips in fustration.

You stare up at his face blankly, not moved by his sudden outburst. This was almost a normal routine by now. But you were only like this with Mr. Park. The way he stared at you during lessons, or the numerous amount of times he caught your eye while staring, and looked away. Did he have a problem with you? Maybe he liked you. It was the only thing that made sense. He picked on you often, gave you deadly smirks that made your legs weak and your heart race, but you forced yourself not to fall for him. He was your teacher after all.

"Sorry" you muttered. He deeply sighed as he leaned his head back and combed his hair, taking his glasses off. He propped himself on the desk, giving you fustrated glances. You knew he was disappointed, but he did look hot stroking his hair as he took a a deep breath and exhaled deeply. You then noticed a wedding ring on his finger, you forgot that he had a wife and children. You never paid much attention to his class so you never bothered to know much about him. You saw a photo with his loving wife and children, he looked to be smiling in the photo, his face brightening with his cheeky fangs.

"You know, I could've been at home with my family, but I yet have to discuss this problem with you, why are..."

You didn't pay attention to a word he's saying. He's repeatedly talking as his words went to one side of your ear, and quickly out the other, not processing the information he had said. Maybe you could test this theory. Maybe if you teased him enough, he would break, it would be fun to try it out anyway, the room was kind of stuffy to begin with in the first place.

Slowly, you brought your hand up your chest, carefully undoing the first button of your blouse. You never really showed cleavage at all, so that should get his attention. Just when you expected him to look at you, he did, as his eyes went directly straight to your chest. His eyes looked wide open, in awe, as his mouth was open in shock, not knowing what to do.

"Y/N, what are you doing? Please stop tha-"

You then continued. He started to now swallow, sweat a bit, allowing you to see his Adam's apple bob and clear his throat, trying to divert his eyes to your face, but he can't help looking at your now almost exposed chest, devouring you with his eyes as he was asking to show more.

As his eyes were still on you, you undid the next button, cleavage almost popping out of your blouse through the thin cloth, your nipples perking through the fabric, showing erotically from the outside. Mr. Park started to drool and salivate a bit, he wished he could tear that blouse right off you and fuck you senseless on his desk. He realized the problem in his pants was starting to get worse and as you walked over to his desk, he was trying to hide his boner. You almost let out a giggle, stopping yourself before he spoke.

He cleared his throat once again, "You can't be doing this."

"So what?" You said with pleading eyes

"I have a wife and kids, no no, I can't be doing this."

You were right in front of him, his hot slickback hair, his bushy eyebrows, his light pink tinted lips, as his body was beginning to tighten out of the dark black fabric, his thighs so big it can squish your head, his bulge began to grow, his crotch almost suffocated, as his long stallion legs almost reached the floor.

Just when he was about to get up, you instantly stopped him with your hands, smirking. He looked back all flustered. You knew what you were doing.

"We can't be doing this, I'm a teacher with a family, and your just a student."

You took the wedding ring off of his ring finger, his veins showing through his big hand, as you plopped the photo frame of his family flipped down.

"C'mon, right now, now you're just a teacher, nothing else." You stared at him so seductively

Mr. Park pushed you, as he went to the classroom door, and locked it. You couldn't believe it, you finally won over him. You smiled back at him.

He now let his thoughts go wild as he locked the classroom door and gave into his own pleasure and yours. He kept moaning your name and thinking about you naked as he sprawled onto you on his desk.

"Ha..." He started to fling all his stuff on his desk to the ground, panting that he has you.

"Something changed your mind, Mr. Park?" You smirked

"You know, if you keep tempting me like this, I might just have to-"

phone ringing

You stared at him, anticipating whether he would pick up the phone right now. He did. He sat down on his chair, but as soon as he did, you went under his desk, your hands on his thigh, unbuckling his belt.

"Hey."

He pays you no mind, leaning back in his chair, sighing, his cold hands touching your soft barren face.

"I'm not sure what time I'll be back baby."

You picked up the idea he was calling his wife, a female voice started speaking at him, so soft.

Suddenly, you took off your pants, he saw. You were now almost fully naked. You grew wetter as you continued, your legs shaking with anticipation of what you thought Jungkook has in store in his crotch. You spreaded your legs as you started to unbuckled his belt and undo his pants, already feeling his horse cock hardening.

"Yes honey. Don't worry, I just have some thin- ngs!"

He had to hold the phone away from his face so his wife doesn't hear him attempt to compose himself by taking a deep breath and letting it out.

"Mhm y- yeah, damn baby, can't wait to get home." He let his head fall back, as you pull his cock out, wrapping the shaft of the head around it, stroking it a few times. His jaw began to drop, as you swipe your thumb over the tip, spreading some precum around, teasing him by running your tongue along the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the tip.

He clears his throat a few times, asking his wife a question and then later responding back. "Yeah, fine." He said so deep, trying to calm himself down as he can feel your juicy lips sucking his cock away, smiling into a struggle.

You kept sucking on it so hard. Moving your head up and down as you can hear him slightly moaning. "Fuck yes." He mouthed. As he began to ram your mouth with his cock, the crotch of his pants already staining with your saliva as you began enjoying the moment, the smell of his cock lifting your nose, sending you into a chokehold as you deepthroat his cock until it reached back. His eyes rolling back.

"Mmm yeah, tell the kids I said hi."

He had to hold the phone away from him again when you started bobbing your head, his own fleshlight doing it all for him. Suddenly, you felt him push your head down the length, making you gag even more.

"Take that cock deep into your mouth. F-fuck! Your mouth so good."

You faintly heard his wife, while sucking on her husband's cock. "What was that?"

"You didn't hear anything, don't worry that was the sound from outside, probably a water error in the pipes they're fixing." He was such a liar. You knew it. He started feeling it, his face scrunching up when he takes his hand off your head, coming up for air and letting his cock fall from your mouth. "Your mouth so good~" He mouthed. You knew his wife was getting a bit suspicious, asking him where these glug sounds coming from, he smirked as he wiped your mouth with the back of his hand. "No worries, that was just the outside." He then mouthed to get on top of him. You did. as you pulled his pants down the ground, then his boxers, his dick still out, just to reveal his hairy-ish legs, it was so fucking hot appearing from up down that you slowly climbed yourself on top of his lap. He then tilted his head as he put the phone on his shoulder, still talking to his wife.

"Yeah, I'm just watching over the student right now. Y/N is doing perfectly fine right now, more than what I can ever ask for." With a little grin over his face as he began to lick his lips. "You sucked me so good, fuck." His eyes started to struggle focusing between you and his phone. His hands started caressing your neck, tracing your jaw as he kissed you full ham. His heated kisses, his hands trailing over your body, as he began leaving love bites on your neck, chest, feeling his hot sloppy wet kisses all over your body, you began to kiss him back. Wanting more as you began gasping for air, but he leaned in once more, a string of saliva connection each other's lips.

"Kiss me again, -mphh"

Thud.

His phone went down the floor. Mr. Park didn't notice at all but you did. You knew his wife was waiting for him to respond. But all you did was kiss him once more, cupping his cheeks as you stared into his eyes with a grin, his hands curling around your neck.

"h-hello? "

His wife's voice was so faint. Mr. Park was in real heat, his eyes dilating when he first started kissing you, the room so stuffy your guy's bodies began to heat rapidly, sweating with as your hands buried in his hair,, pulling him to your face kissing him more frantically until his mouth went to your chest and started to kiss your nipples, sucking on them as if milk was going to come out.

"Am I better than your wife?" You said so naughtily

"You are, I can't wait for this mature cock to ram your young pussy." He growled

He soon started to assert his dominance. Your hole started to twitch. You were so horny. And he was too.

"I wasn't able to have sex for 2 weeks. All I ever did was masturbate" He said so haughtily

He began venting to you, his kids, his wife. Running away from his problems. You enjoyed this time with him.

"I need your hole right now baby." He ordered while looking straight dead into your eyes.

"As you wish teacher. Anything for you." You replied back

You slowly sat down on his hardened cock. But before you were, he jammed in two fingers inside you, playing with your insides as if you were a toy.

"You like that? You slut!" He grunted

You couldn't help it as he kept dipping his two fingers between your folds and in and out, teasing your entrance, so wet his fingers were drenched.

"This just from sucking my cock?"

"Yes," you breathily answer, saliva spilling out your mouth, drenched onto the floor

"Such a a good girl~"

You moaned softly, as he tuts at you. "Be quiet for me baby, we can't having the whole school knowing what we're doing here, so shush~"

"Yes Mr. Park."

You obeyed him and you began to be more quiet.

"Good." He replied throgh gritted teeth.

As he kept toying your insides more and more, you couldn't bear it. You let a hiss of pleasure grinding on his cock, until his dick pushed through your pussy walls and fuck you deep into the core. Mr. park groaned as he entered you.

"Oh fuck baby, your so fucking good, you deserve an A+ for this class."

"God, your dick feels so good inside of me." You moaned

"You've been waiting for this all along huh?"

"Yeah, all these other students can't compare for what I'm doing for you, right?"

"Yeah." He took a breath and grinned

"Sliding into your wet pussy feels so amazing. Keep bouncing, y-yeah~... just like that..."

The way he talked turned you on even more,, moving your hips in slow circles as you whimpered a bit at the touch of his hands grinding through your body from your back. His moaning and groaning made your clit throb.

"You fuck better than my wife, your so fucking good at this."

All of a sudden. He carried you and pushed you against the classroom board, your hands now on the wall as your facing it, and his tall lean figure towering over you, his manly build and husky voice now whispering into your ears.

"Fuck!~ I've got myself a student that can take care of my needs now ha..." He smiled as he kept hitting so aggressively from the back, repeatedly thrusting his cock inside you. He matched the rhythm with you and fucked you even deeper. His moans and groans getting louder, as well as yours as your pussy walls began to contract from his dick.

"Feels so good." You mewled onto his back as he grabbed you from the neck and turned your head a bit to kiss you right on the lips, his tongue entering your mouth, swirling inside as you intertwined your tongue with his, swapping saliva from this hot makeout session.

Your breathing went faster as your hips began rocking back and forth even more. His hands romaed your body from your hips and groping your chest. He continued to do so as he put his hands on your hips and made you ride him faster.

"Oh yeah? You like that? You slut! I never could've guessed you would satisfy me, ha..."

"Fuck me harder, more better than your wife."

"Oh yeah? You do fuck better than my wife. You want me to put a baby inside you?" As he whispered into your ear, now starting to lick it, shivers going down your spine in pleasure.

"I want you to cum inside me, take me to the edge Mr. Park, make your cock cum for me!"

"Right there, right there!" He clawed his hands on your breasts, groping them with his fingernails as you feel yourself getting to the edge faster.

He then stopped, as you thrusted even more harder before you realized. You glared back at him.

"Ride my dick, baby. Make yourself cum with this hard hung cock of mine."

You complied as you slid his dick into your juicy lips of your pusssy as you bounced faster, reaching thee climax even faster than you already had in your previous times of masturbating. His hips continued to meet yours.

It was until you couldn't move. Your legs started to shake, convulsing from each passing second, all tensed up, ready to orgasm.

"That's it. Y/N, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" He proclaimed

"Don't stop. Please don't s-stopp!" You then started to jolt from your intense orgasm, fluids mixing with his thick load of cum as he pulled you to the side as you two sighed, mixture of cum dripping down your thighs and from his crotch too. The phone began to murmur loudly, until it ended.

Beep!~

"Oh shoot. My wife is going to be mad at me!" He voiced out, still exhausted from fucking

"It's okay, my parents are gone, you can just be at my house." I said smiling

"H- ha.." He pulled you in with your waist as he looked down to kiss you once more, so heavily he wouldn't budge, but you didn't resist.

"Want to fuck at my house?"

His cock started to become rock hard once more.

"I take that as a yes." Glancing at his cock.

"F-fuck. You made me like this now." He declared

The moonlight was hitting at the windows, you guys began to look outside.

Mr. Park looked at you, "How about round two while we're at it?"

His hard cock began throbbing so hard.

"You'll be receiving a lot more detentions now." He affirmed with a smirk

"Just what I need~ it'll be more fun now." I giggled

"You will never be absent or late from my class once more." As he jerked his dick off in front of you. Having your hand touch it.

You guys then began to hit it off for the night. Mr. Park's wife calling the phone repeatedly as you guys kept fucking until the next school day.

[littlefreakrry13]

✮ pushing it down and praying ✮

masterlist

A/n: I’ve been obsessed with this song for forever and I HAD to make a one shot abt it, anyways enjoy 🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️✨✨

Lando Norris x fem! reader

Word count: 709

You weren’t supposed to see him tonight.

You had plans — ones you made on purpose to avoid him.

But fate, cruel and persistent, had other ideas.

You spotted Lando across the crowded room first.

Head thrown back in laughter, drink in his hand, surrounded by people you didn’t recognize anymore.

Maybe you never really had.

Your stomach twisted. You tried to swallow it down, like you had been for months — the words, the hurt, the hollowed-out love that used to live so easily between you.

Pushing it down. Pushing it down. Always pushing it down.

You turned away, but it was too late.

His eyes had already found you.

He crossed the room with that stupid boyish smile, the one that used to make your heart skip and now just made it hurt worse.

"Hey, stranger," he said, a little too casual, a little too careful.

You hated how your heart still leapt at the sound of his voice.

You hated that he could still look at you like that — like you were the only thing that ever made sense.

He shouldn’t get to do that, not anymore.

"Hi," you managed, voice dry. You didn’t trust yourself to say anything more.

For a moment, it was just the two of you, like there was no one else in the world.

The music faded, the chatter blurred. It was just you and Lando and a million things unsaid between you.

"I’ve been meaning to call," he said after a long beat.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, me too."

Lie.

You hadn’t been meaning to call.

You’d been meaning to forget.

He shifted closer, hands stuffed into his pockets, nervous the way he used to get when he was trying to say something important.

"I miss you," he said, almost a whisper. "I miss... us."

You closed your eyes.

Because that was the thing about Lando — he always knew the right words too late.

"I’m not the same person anymore," you said, voice breaking before you could catch it. "And you’re... you’re still the same."

Always running. Always chasing. Always putting you second to everything else.

He looked wounded, but you couldn’t let yourself care.

You had cared enough for both of you, for too long.

"I prayed," you said quietly, blinking hard against the sting in your eyes. "I prayed you’d figure it out. That one day you’d wake up and realize what you were losing."

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

"But you didn’t," you finished.

And maybe he would, one day. Maybe years from now he would look back and realize tonight was the night he lost you for good.

But it wouldn’t change anything.

You gave him a sad, almost tender smile — the kind you give someone you once loved more than yourself.

"Goodbye, Lando."

You turned and left, the weight of it all crashing down once you were out of his sight.

You didn’t look back.

You didn’t need to.

Some things, once broken, stay that way.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★

You barely made it outside before the cold air hit your face — sharp, cutting, real.

You told yourself you wouldn’t cry. You promised yourself you were stronger than this.

But then you heard it —

Your name.

Soft. Frantic. His voice.

You froze.

Footsteps.

Then Lando was there, breathless, the door swinging shut behind him.

He wasn’t smiling now. He just looked... lost.

"Wait," he said, voice cracking like he was breaking open in front of you.

You hated how much it almost broke you too.

"I should’ve fought harder," he said. "I should’ve been better."

The words tumbled out of him, messy and desperate.

You believed him.

You always believed him.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "I’m so sorry."

For a moment — just a moment — the world went still.

You could almost see it: the version of you two that could've made it, if life had been kinder. If he had been ready.

If love had been enough.

But it wasn’t.

"I know," you said, voice thick. "But sometimes... sorry isn’t enough."

You stepped back.

You saw the panic flash in his eyes, like he finally understood this wasn’t just a fight you could make up from.

This was the end.

"I love you," he said, raw and broken.

You smiled, heart shattering all over again.

"I love you too."

And maybe that was the saddest part

You could love someone with your whole soul and still have to let them go.

You turned.

This time, he didn’t chase you.

And maybe that was love too

Knowing when to stop fighting.

Knowing when to say goodbye.

[tgrs10]

Claimed| HECTOR FORT³² [001]

MASTERLIST (N/A)

⤑ 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩| 1,987

⤑ 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮| Hector and you were over, or supposed to be. But one jealous night at the club proves he never really let go. (REQ)

⤑ 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | SMUT 18+!!, Rough Sex, Unprotected, Slight Angst, jealous sex.

You and Hector had history, like real history. Not just some months-long fling or a situationship gone stale. You’d both grown up together, part of the same tight-knit friend group that had seen every version of you both. You’d been together for years, years first as friends, then as more. Everyone in the group had known you as a unit, a given, a forever-thing, until you suddenly weren’t.

When you broke up, it hadn’t been explosive. No screaming or slamming doors. It was quiet and slow and painful in the way long relationships sometimes are, the kind where you’re not even sure when the beginning of the end started, but only that it did. And even though the relationship ended, the friend group didn’t. You didn’t split off, didn’t drift. That meant seeing Hector at every hangout, every birthday dinner, every movie night. And now tonight, at the club.

It was supposed to be a group thing. Just everyone letting loose for once, with no drama, no awkwardness. You told yourself it wouldn’t be weird. You even dressed up like you meant it, tried to feel like someone new in the mirror. But the second you walked into the pulsing neon haze of the club and saw Hector standing by the bar with the other guys, hands in his pockets, that same unreadable expression on his face, your stomach turned traitor.

You didn’t speak. Just walked past him, the way strained exes do when too much has been said and not enough at all. And maybe that’s why you ended up talking to someone else. He was harmless, really. Just some guy from the crowd who asked you what you were drinking and said something stupid but sweet enough to make you laugh.

You weren’t trying to flirt. You weren’t looking for anything. You were just tired of missing something you weren’t allowed to want anymore. Tired of the ache that bloomed in your chest every time you caught Hector looking at you like he didn’t know whether to pull you back or walk away for good.

You felt him before you saw him, almost like the shift in the air when a storm rolls in. One second, you were half-smiling at something a guy you'd just met was saying, nodding politely, a solo cup cradled in your fingers more out of habit than interest. The music thumped through your ribs, too loud for real conversation, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t really listening anyway.

You were too aware of the weight of your own loneliness, trying to convince yourself you were okay, that you were fine, that coming here hadn’t been a mistake.

The moment your new acquaintance leaned in, closer than necessary, his hand brushing your hip in that casual way that said he thought he could, the storm hit. Hector. His presence slammed into your senses before he even touched you, the kind of gravity you never stopped orbiting no matter how hard you tried.

One look at his face, jaw tight, eyes dark and locked onto yours with a heat that burned hotter than the club lights, and you knew. You knew he wasn’t just watching. Suddenly, he was right there, cutting through the space between you like it didn’t exist, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around your wrist, not hard, but with a certainty that made your breath catch.

The other guy blinked, confused, backing off like instinct told him this wasn’t his fight. “Come with me,” Hector said, voice low enough to make your heart stumble, rough in the way that told you he was barely holding it together. Not a plea. Not a suggestion. Almost a command, wrapped in heartbreak and heat.

His grip on your wrist wasn’t bruising, but it was firm enough to make your pulse stutter. He hadn’t said anything else, just led you through the thumping bass and flashing lights until you were tucked away in a hallway near the back of the club, somewhere between the staff entrance and the bathrooms, where the music was muffled but your heartbeat wasn’t. His eyes were burning. Yours were too.

“What the hell are you doing, Hector?” you snapped, yanking your hand from his like it burned. “You don’t get to do that. We’re not together anymore, remember?” He didn’t speak back, not at first. Just stood there, jaw tight with something he wasn’t saying. “You think I don’t remember?” he said, low. “Then act like it,” you shot back, voice sharp. “You don’t get to pull me away like I’m still yours when you were the one who let me go.” This time, he flinched, subtle, just a flicker in his eyes, but you saw it, and God, you hated that it still hit you that hard. “You were out there,” he said, voice rough, “touching some random guy like he could give you anything real, like he could give you something-”

“Oh, and now you suddenly get to decide what’s real?” you snapped, the scoff leaving your throat sharper than you meant, your hands trembling with rage you didn’t want him to see. “You don’t talk to me. You don’t call. You show up with the guys and act like we’re just two people who happen to orbit the same damn group, and the second I so much as talk to someone else, you lose your mind like I’ve betrayed you.” He didn’t hesitate. “Because it is a betrayal,” he growled, stepping in like he couldn’t stand the distance between you. “It is to me.” Your mouth opened, to fire back, to say something cruel, something final, but you didn’t get the chance. Because Hector was on you. Mouth crashing into yours, hard and hungry and devastating, like kissing you was the only thing keeping him alive. 

His hands were in your hair before you could even think, pulling you closer, his mouth hot and bruising against yours, and you hated how quickly you melted into it, how familiar it felt, how easy it was to fall. And then, like he couldn’t wait, like the time apart had built into something sharp and hungry, he pulled back just long enough to breathe, to look at you, his voice low and wrecked. “Come with me,” he said again, and this time it wasn’t a request, It was a demand.

You didn’t ask where. Didn’t need to. His hand found yours like it never forgot the way your fingers used to fit, and you followed without hesitation, heart thudding in your chest harder than the bass vibrating through the floor. The club was dark, flashing with reds and violets, bodies pressed together in a blur of sweat and sound, but the two of you moved through it like nothing else existed, like the gravity between you was stronger than the noise, than the past, than the people who might’ve seen. You felt the burn of his stare even as he led you, the possessiveness in the grip he had on your wrist, guiding you toward the back where the single-stall restrooms were tucked into the corner, barely lit, barely noticed.

The second the door clicked shut, Hector was on you like a storm, mouth crashing into yours, hands rough and desperate, like he’d been dying to touch you and couldn’t hold back anymore. He slammed you back against the door, one hand curling in your hair, the other already sliding up your waist, slipping under your top to palm bare skin. The chill of the metal behind you contrasted with the fire of him in front of you, and it made your head spin. He kissed you like he hated the space between you. Like he was trying to erase every second he hadn’t had you in his arms, in his bed, on his cock.

Your breath caught when his hand slid higher, fingers brushing the underside of your bra, thumb teasing the swell of your breast like he already knew exactly what would make you fall apart. Because he did. Hector had always known your body like it was a song he’d memorized, every note, every rhythm. “You think I could just stand there?” he rasped against your mouth, dragging your top off over your head, eyes devouring the way your bra hugged your chest. “Watching you talk to some random?” You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not when he looked at you like that. Not when his hands were back on your skin, rough and reverent all at once.

“You don’t get to say that,” you gasped, even as you yanked his shirt up, needing it off, needing him closer. “You broke up with me.” “I fucked up,” he snapped, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside. “But I never stopped wanting you.” And then he kissed you again, slower now, deeper. His tongue slid into your mouth like he was trying to reclaim it, like he was trying to brand you all over again. When he broke the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck, biting softly at your pulse, your knees buckled.

He caught you easily, lifting you like you weighed nothing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding down against the hard length straining against his jeans, and fuck, the groan he let out sent heat shooting through you. “You feel that?” he murmured, grinding up into you. “That’s what you do to me. No one else, only you.” His hands shoved your panties aside, rough fingers sliding between your folds, finding how wet you already were. You gasped, head falling back, body aching.

“You’re soaked,” he murmured against your throat, voice rough and almost disbelieving, like the heat he felt between your thighs was driving him insane. His fingers pressed harder, teasing, testing, and you gasped, hips twitching toward his hand like your body had a mind of its own. “Just from this?” he asked, low and wrecked. “Just from me pulling you in, touching you like this?” “Yes,” you breathed, shameless, your voice breaking on the word. “I’ve wanted you. I still, fuck, Hector, I need it.” The confession spilled out raw and desperate, your need for him clinging to every syllable.

He groaned like he was in pain, like hearing that undid something inside him. One hand fumbled with his belt, and then he was freeing his cock, already hard, flushed, leaking at the tip. When he rubbed the thick head against your pussy, just enough to tease, your hips bucked into him, chasing the pressure. He thrust into you in one deep, brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt with a groan so filthy it made your stomach flip. You cried out, nails digging into his back, your pussy clenching around his cock, almost missing this feeling “Fuck,” he hissed, gripping your hips, forehead pressed to yours. “You feel like fucking heaven. Tight as ever. Still mine.”

He started to move, hard, fast, relentless. Each thrust slammed you against the door, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the small space, mixing with your moans and his curses. He was fucking you like he meant it, like he needed you to feel it, to remember exactly who you belonged to. Your pussy clenched around him, and he felt it, grinned through gritted teeth as he drove into you harder, faster.

“I’m gonna cum,” he bit out, hips stuttering. “Cum with me. Let me feel you.” And you did, shattering around him, pussy squeezing his cock as you came hard, gasping his name. He followed with a deep, wrecked groan, spilling inside you, holding you to him like if he let go, the whole world would fall apart. For a long moment, the only sound was your breathing,heavy, uneven, desperate against each other. And then his lips brushed your ear. “This wasn’t a one-time thing.” You didn’t answer, because you’d be lying if you said no.

[genevievefangirl]

How to AO3 - A Tagging Guide Masterpost

Maybe it is the autism, but I've always found AO3's tagging system to be extremely fascinating and fun. However, I know that many people do not share my love and find it frustrating and difficult.

Now after over a decade of reading fics on there I can say that I have *opinions* on how works should be tagged. I have seen many people lament over not knowing how to tag, and if that's you, here's a guide!

Blanket Disclaimer – Tagging is inherently subjective.  There are very few cases where a fic is truly tagged ‘incorrectly’ since an argument can be made for or against the inclusion of most tags.  Besides the 4 major warnings (and selecting a fandom & language), everything else is optional (and you can even not do those 4 if you choose “Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings”).  So take a breath and relax, you will be fine.

Additionally, since tagging is subjective, this advice is how I think works should be tagged.  You are free to disagree, but these are the guidelines I use and the interpretation that I think makes the most sense.

Alright with that out of the way... here we go!

1. What are tags even for anyway?

Tags are advertisements for your work. Each tag should be considered with care, don’t just throw on a tag for no reason.

There is one main question I want you to take away from this entire post. If you remember nothing else, remember this. When considering to add a tag, ask yourself:

Would a reader looking for this specific tag be happy with this story?

The answer to that for every tag on your work should be an enthusiastic YES. If the answer is no, cut the tag (with a few exceptions – mostly kink/warning related)

2. Ratings

The lines between some of the ratings can get fuzzy, but I generally think about them like I would think about movie ratings.

Not Rated This is the one to use if you either don’t want to rate your fic or are unsure.  When people search, this will be treated like M and E fics (meaning a warning will be shown about possible adult content when people click on it). G - General Audiences Suitable for everyone. You could show this to someone under 13 and it would be totally fine. T - Teen Think PG-13 or the equivalent rating in your country. I would categorize total fade to black sex scenes in here and violence on the level of the original Hunger Games books. M - Mature Adult themes such as sex, violence, etc, but not exceedingly graphic. This is where partial fade to black sex scenes go as well as scenes in which the sex is described but not in detail. For violence, I would put anything in here that doesn't spend a ton of time describing the gore. E - Explicit Porn and graphic violence. This is where smut goes. I do also think that when AO3 readers see an E rating they expect sex so if you are rating something E for violence and there is no sex present, you might want to put that in an additional tag so as not to confuse people.

For ratings - use your judgement. Some topics are inherently dark (suicide, non-con (even off screen), death, etc). It is up to you to pick what you think that appropriate rating is for your story based on what you think.

3. Archive Warnings

When you get to this section you will be confronted with 6 checkboxes: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, and Underage Sex.

The last 4 of those (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, and Underage Sex) I will now call the 4 Major Archive Warnings for the rest of this post.

Now let's walk through each of the 6:

Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings - You pick this one if you do not want to select any of the others. If any of the 4 Major Archive Warnings exist in your story and you don't want to tag them, then you MUST select this option to be in compliance with AO3 Terms of Service.

No Archive Warnings Apply - You select this if none of the 4 Major Archive Warnings exist in your fic.

Graphic Depictions of Violence - Often people get tripped up with what counts as 'graphic' for this warning. I usually think about this one in relation to the source material the fic is from. For example, what might qualify as 'graphic' in one fandom might differ from another. But I tend to use the movie rating scale again (anything that would be too much for PG-13 gets the warning), but again it is up to your judgement.

Rape/Non-Con - Pretty self-explanatory. If your fic has this at all, you should tag it. When I see this tagged the implication to me is that the assault occurs on-screen. However, if you want to tag if for off-screen non-con no one will stop you.

Underage Sex - Again, self-explanatory. If your characters are underage and have sex, tag it. Technically, for AO3, underage is considered under 18 no matter where the fic takes place or where you are writing it, so take that under consideration. (This tag can get complicated with immortal beings, aliens, ghosts, or other supernatural elements, just use your best judgement).

Major Character Death - I have the most to say about this one because I find it the most confusing of the 4. I will attempt to not go on a rant here about how I really dislike this one (but man do I hate it). Here are some questions I often see about this warning and how I would answer them: 1. So... who counts as a major character? AO3's official answer to this is to use your judgement. Which isn't super helpful. I think the warning should apply to major characters in your fic not the source material. For example, if your fic's main character is Leon and Arthur dies at some point, but he wasn't a focus of your fic, then I don't think MCD should be tagged. (This might be my most controversial tagging opinion) 2. How do I determine who the main characters are in my fic? Here is my approach - if your story has main ship X with characters A and B driving most of the plot and character C is also there, but is not the main focus of the story, then killing C does not count as Major Character Death. However, if the story is about a trio of characters A, B, and C and A and B also happen to also be in a relationship, then killing C would be Major Character Death. In the end it is up to your discretion as the author, but I would think about how much the character contributes to make a determination. 3. What about temporary death? Do I have to tag MCD for that? I don't think so. The Temporary Death tag exists for a reason and that should be sufficient. 4. Okay so I don't think the character I killed is a major character, but some people might disagree and I don't want people to be mad that I didn't tag MCD. What should I do? Tag Character Death and leave it at that. In my opinion, that is sufficient warning that someone might die. 5. What if the characters are already dead at the start? Like they are ghosts or something? If your characters are essentially immortal creatures whose natural state is dead then I don't think you need to tag MCD. The spirit of the MCD tag is that a character is going away. If the characters are dead but still around then I don't think that is MCD.

Yeah I have a lot of MCD opinions... but moving on!

3. Categories

These are for the type of romantic relationship is in the fic.

Gen - No romantic or sexual relationships, or relationships are not the main focus of the work. F/F - Female to Female F/M - Female to Male M/M - Male to Male Multi - more than one kind of relationship or relationship with multiple partners (so both Poly relationships and fics with multiple relationships as the focus go here). Other - Relationships not covered by the other categories.

4. Fandom

This one is usually easy. You just tag the fandom for the fic you are writing for. Done! But there is an instance where this can get confusing...

When do you tag multiple fandoms? You tag multiple fandoms when you are using elements from another fandom in a CROSSOVER instance! Do NOT tag it if it is used in an AU instance! The difference is subtle, but for example, I am writing my Dead Boy Detectives Hunger Games AU, but since I am NOT crossing over with Hunger Games characters and am only using the Hunger Games setting, I do NOT tag Hunger Games.  However, if my fic were to use characters from Hunger Games (like if Katniss showed up for a chat), then I would tag it. This is important because: 1. Some people filter out crossovers and you don't want your fic to be considered a crossover when you are just using it as an AU. 2. Tagging other fandoms where you really aren't using the characters floods the other fandom tag with works that aren't really related to that fandom and that isn't a nice thing to do.

5. Relationship Tags

/ vs & - they mean two different things! The / is for romantic relationships. The & is for platonic relationships. There are times when tagging both is acceptable. For example, if your fic is ambiguous about if two characters are together then you can tag both. Also, if the 2 characters haven’t gotten together yet, but they will at some nebulous point in the future beyond the end of the fic, I think it is fine to tag the / tag since it is pre-slash, but that depends on personal preference.

Poly Ships - “But what if I have a poly ship?  Do I tag the poly ship and all the sides of the triangle (or square, or pentagon, you get it)?” It depends on personal preference, but here is how I would do it- Remember , the key for adding any tag is “Would a reader looking for this specific tag be happy with this story?” So, for example, if you are writing a poly fic with characters X/Y/Z and X/Y have scenes together alone and Z/X have scenes alone, then you tag the poly ship and those sides of the triangle. But say Y/Z don’t have much development outside the poly ship, then you don’t tag them. Poly ships can make your relationship tags quite long, but it is better to cover your bases adequately. This way, if people don’t want the poly ship, they can filter that tag out, but if people don’t mind, they will still be able to find your fic while searching for the non-poly tag.

Side Ships - “X couple are the main focus of my fic, but Y couple is there too, should I tag both?” It depends on a couple of factors. If someone clicked on your story just for the secondary Y ship, would they be satisfied? Is there enough content to justify it being a Y ship story or are they just there to support the main X ship? - If they are just in the background and mentioned but get zero onscreen development or scenes DO NOT tag it in the Relationships section! - If they get screen time and development, then DO tag them in the Relationships section. If Y ship does not get enough development to be tagged in the Relationship section, you can tag them in the Additional Tags section. This allows you to highlight couple Y's presence in the fic without clogging up their relationship tag.

6. Characters

Now you might think that if a character is in a relationship tag, then they should be automatically assumed to be in the fic. THIS IS NOT THE CASE. Perhaps a fic includes allusions to X being with Y, but Y isn’t actually present. In that case, only X should be in the Character tags.

On the flip side, if both members of the relationship tag are present in the fic, always tag characters in the Character section too! If someone is just filtering on X and doesn’t put anything into the Relationships section, then they will not find your fic if you don’t tag them individually!

How many characters should I tag? Do I tag everyone? In shorter one shots, you can probably get away with tagging all the characters even if they only have a small role. But in long fics, choices must be made. Tag everyone that you feel gets adequate attention and contributes significantly to the plot. Again, would a reader looking for this specific character be happy with this story?

7. Kinks

I’m not gonna get into the specifics of this because I don't really want to and it isn't my area of expertise, but you know what these are 😂

If you are writing smut, then you should tag the tropes you are using so people can properly filter on what they want and don't want to see.

8. Warnings (outside the Major 4)

There are a lot of warnings you can tag for outside of the Major 4. Here is a list of some of the common ones I have seen:

Suicide

Self-Harm

Incest

Manipulation

Alcoholism

PTSD

Minor Character Death

Gun Violence

Non-consensual touching

Body Horror

Dub-Con

Torture

Psychological Horror

Abuse (Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Animal Abuse)

Homophobic Language

Grief/Mourning

That is in no way intended to be a comprehensive list, but you get the idea. If there is something in your fic that you feel might upset someone, consider tagging it.

9. Time/Universe

Tell people when/where your story takes place!

Alternate Universe - in which something is changed from the canon universe. I usually sort them into 2 major subcategories: 1. Canon Divergence - The fic changes an aspect from canon, but still is in the same general universe. 2. Other AUs - These fics go wild! It can be anything from the classic Coffee Shop AU to an AU based on another fandom property (Harry Potter AUs, Hunger Games AUs, etc) Get creative with your AU tags! If the tag for your specific AU doesn't exist, make it yourself! Also, you can tag multiple AUs for one story if they all apply (such as tagging both Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse and Alternate Universe - The Last of Us Setting)

Canon Universe - The fic takes place in the fandom universe with no changes. There are also subcategories here! 1. Pre-Canon - takes place before the timeline of the source material. 2. Post-Canon - takes place after the timeline of the source material. 3. Canon Compliant - takes place during the timeline of the source material and doesn't change that timeline (think missing scenes)

Almost every fic should have either an AU tag or one of the canon tags!

10. Gender Swap/Trans Characters

Remember that tags are advertisements! If you are writing about trans characters or gender swapped characters, people want to find that! Let them know and tag it!

11. Genre/Big Tropes

These are the big ones. Every fic you post should have at least one of these tags:

Angst

Hurt/Comfort

Fluff

Smut

Romance

Humor

Crack

Every fic has a feeling you want to evoke or emotion you want to convey and that is what these tags are for. Let the reader know what they are in for!

12. More Specific Tags

This is for everything else. This is where you can have a lot of fun. If there is something in your story you want to highlight, put it in the tags! Here are some examples!

Amnesia

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers

Slow Burn

Mutual Pining

Fake Dating

Miscommunication

Pregnancy

Mpreg

Jealousy

Abandonment Issues

Codependency

Cuddling

Fake/Pretend Relationship

First Kiss

Love Confessions

Hurt (insert character here)

Protective (insert character here)

Time Travel

Apocalypse

Established Relationship

Or literally anything else your mind can think of! The possibilities are ENDLESS!!!

13. Joke Tags

AO3 is not tumblr, so do not treat the tags like you do on there. The goal of the tags is for readers to find your fic if they want to read it and filter it out if they don’t, so don’t take up a ton of space with joke tags.

However, some joke tags can be fun, and I don’t mind seeing some of them, but keep it limited to a couple at most. They are most useful to clarify something about a tag you used. For example, I tagged “Slow Burn” but right after that tag I put “but also they literally share a bed all the time so… take that as you will”. It is a joke, but it also provides useful information to the reader.

14. How many tags is too many?

AO3 limits you to 75 tags, but you should probably never be approaching that number. I’d say ask yourself that main question (“Would a reader looking for this specific tag be happy with this story?”) for each one of the tags. That should help you narrow it down to the main ones your story represents.

A reasonable goal is that your tag list and summary should just about fit onto a phone screen so a reader can see all of it at once.

I have about 30 tags (including everything) on my current long fic with over 90k words; you don’t need a million tags.

AND THAT'S A WRAP!

My God this too me way too long to make, but I hope this is helpful! Now go tag like an expert!

[stars-in-a-jam-jar]

You claim this is inverse but I would argue Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third's devotion to discovering the secrets of and forming a deep relationship with that which his society sees as monstrous and impossible to contend with is Incredibly Punk From The Jump, while Jack Frost's journey to learn about himself and his strengths and his place in the world maps easily onto the nerdish archetype of someone whose primary struggle is being seen and valued for their strengths instead of invisiblized for their inability to be someone seen as More Worthy.

Yes Hiccup is incredibly intelligent and weedy and very much has the voice you would give The Dork^TM in an improv sketch, and yes the thing that devalues him to the rest of Berk is his seeming inability to Be More Viking. But the thing that draws him to dragon training and dragon riding is the idea that he can value things his community does not and actually be better for it. This initially expresses itself in his aptitude for invention and toolmaking and strategy, things everyone else thinks are a waste of time when they could instead be Becoming Stronger and honing fighting technique. Seeing himself in Toothless fucking radicalizes him and at first he isn't sure what to do with this compassion he feels for this creature, but as he devotes more and more of his time and energy to understanding the dragons, he revolutionizes both his sense of self worth and the way his entire community functions from the ground up! Hiccup has been saying 'Fuck our current way of doing things, fuck the rules we currently live by, I don't wanna be that person. I will prove I can be successful and valuable without being the ideal person my society wants me to be.' since the opening of the first movie, he just needed to grow into that instinct a little more. The whole first movie is about him convincing his community that their entire framework for the world is fundamentally wrong, and the ideal ending for the movie is his community responding 'Yeah, you were right. Maybe we can do it your way.'

Yes Jack has that snarky teenage heartthrob rebel without a cause energy. He is eternally that cool older kid who isn't afraid to commit petty theft and on Halloween eggs & toilet papers the houses of people who're rude to elementary schoolers. However! The thing that allows Jack to win in Rise of the Guardians is that he (1) believes in himself and (2) gets other people to believe in him. He is learning about himself and the people around him and navigating how to pull himself out of pure invisibility. His frustrations are the frustrations of someone who needs a way to come out of their shell, but no one has presented them with a meaningful opportunity to do so. He's not rebelling against the other guardians or The Man in the Moon when he initially refuses being a guardian, he's turning down a job that happens to be his destiny in a quippy tone of voice. He lives in this constant feeling of displacement that many a shy nerd can tell you is only solved by finding whatever Thing makes you feel like you truly belong to the world and not just you. This has overlap with punk sensibilities but is not What Punk Is.

So anyway, Hiccup is punk in a way where he'd strategically destroy or thwart the formation of hostile architecture and Jack is a nerd in a way where once he gets some antidepressants and emotional resilience it's over for you bitches.

It’s been a while since I posted some of my art. So…

This was an old commission I did a few years ago! Because we all love the Modern Punk/Nerd AU but… INVERSE!

[loveyislost]

INTRO: KYŌTANI

the seven of hearts: romance, passion, desire for connection, but a warning as to what will happen if you don't keep your word

masterlist

he’s not there, not really. his mind anywhere else as mai drones on.

he should probably be paying attention to his girlfriend, but honestly, it’s not like he cares.

“…and i tried to tell hana that that shade of fuchsia was so last year, but she fucking wore it to my dinner anyways. it was so fucking humiliating.” 

he can hear the whine in her voice, the one that makes him wanna slam his head through the plaster wall of his shitty apartment. “yeah, yeah. what a bitch.”

she starts up again, and he just sighs.

if he’d had his way, she wouldn’t even be here right now. she would’ve texted, asking if he was busy, and he would’ve been. but she’d just shown up at his goddamn door, his car out front meaning he couldn’t pretend to be out.

his palm, rough from life and blistered from hours in the gym, runs down his chest. there’s a dull pain from the hickeys and scratches his girl had left there last night. no, not his girlfriend, his girl. 

maybe he should try to be more conspicuous, what with the whole ‘being in a relationship’ thing, but she’s not gonna see it. it’s not like they don’t have sex, unfortunately, but mai doesn’t get to see him. face down, ass up, shrill whines muffled in the pillow. the lights stay off, his mind stays elsewhere. he always pulls out, finishes on her ass, then leaves, scrubbing her off of him in the shower and kicking her out with some half assed excuse.

a soft ding sounds in his pocket, the specific one he’s chosen for her.

he pulls it out, lips lifting in the smallest ghost of a smirk, the closest he really ever gets to a smile. mai says something about him not paying attention, her voice doing that thing where every sentence ends sounding like a question.

waving her off, he slides up on his screen, leaning back against the wall while he slips his shoes on, grabbing the worn, leather jacket left on the back of the couch. his voice is gruff, not even caring enough to play sweet, “gotta go. big delivery.”

she hasn’t even answered before he’s slipped out, door clicking behind him. it’s almost silent as it clicks against the frame, not out of politeness, but rather habit.

it’s warm out, a soft breeze blowing past him, the kind that whips in his eyes and makes him squint, his permanent glare becoming even more pronounced.

there’s a hand in his pocket, fidgeting with the bone handle of his pocket knife, the other typing back a response.

he passes by the dreary, grey buildings, and it’s almost fitting, not dark, in the broken down ways of the worst neighborhoods, but not bright either, like those pictures he always sees on the internet of japan. it’s just boring , nothing, empty. but he can’t focus on that, because, oh god, oh, she’s pissed. and in the best fucking way.

extras!

kyōtani and alisa dated for three years

he honestly was just never super into the relationship, so when their careers and lives got busy, he ended things and didn't really feel anything about it

he's best friends with yahaba because he's the only one who actually calls him on his shit and doesn't get offended when kyo is being an ass

lives in an old apartment with yahaba, tsukishima, and iwaizumi

he's currently working at a skate store downtown for minimum wage

he and y/n started hooking up within a week of him breaking up with alisa, and days after she and yahaba ended things

they're idiots, but have enough sense to realize that telling people would not have ended well

kept trying to end things, but something about the toxicity of the cycle kept them coming back

within a few months, they were both in relationships to try and just move on

kyo started seeing mai because she showed interest and seemed like someone one would be expected to date

it took all of three days for him to be sick of her shit, but at this point a breakup while y/n is still in her relationship feels like he's losing some kind of competition

he refuses to do any of the sappy boyfriend shit for mai (he isn't the the other do that stuff anyways, but certainly not for her) so she posts and says things to make it seem like he does

bonus round!

correctly guess who y/n's boyfriend is for your username to be used in an smau as an npc's username

taglist! taglist is open, complete this form to be added

@kawoala @dumdogs @xemowaffle @sexylexy12

[moonchild-in-blue]

Some more thoughts on Caramel, but this time isn't so sad - more hopeful than anything I suppose.

I mentioned before how the general thematic parallels BTS' Black Swan, but after letting it sit for a while, this is actually Interlude: Shadow, almost to a T. I'm mostly musing out lout, and this is a bit all over the place with prose and comparisons, so. It's going under a cut, feel free to skip it if you'd like.

(but if there are any ARMYs here in the Sleep Token side... pls walk with me on this 🥺💜)

So. Caramel. A song about the dark side of fame, and the subversion of a lifelong dream turned into nightmare. About the loss of privacy and identity, about being under blinding limelights; about the steep price artists (in this case Vessel) pay for recognition.

About being hurt by very hands that raised him up. Exploitation, gossip, entitlement, etc etc. Icarus suspended near the sun, burning but never falling.

Interlude: Shadow is about exactly that. About reaching the top and realising how lonely and precarious that position is. A barbed wire tight rope over an expecting amphitheatre.

You don't need to listen to the song, but I'd invite you to take a look at the translated lyrics.

Suga references several lyrics of past songs (most notably, their debut song No Dream), where they used to dream about the life they now have, about being able to make the music they want and having it be listened and received by millions - and how bitter that dream has become.

Both Caramel and Shadow talk about the fear and anxiety felt while being on such an elevated stage. The fall is too high, the expectations are too much - but so are the blessings received.

There's this recurring theme of - "I got what I've always wanted, so it'd be selfish of me to complain. I'll endure and smile and dance through it all, because the other option is to turn away from it all."

The key difference in them is that Shadow, like its name, focuses on the two conflicting personalities of the artists - the person they are on stage, the person they are beneath that mask, and how those two co-exist together. Who is the shadow and who is the self (which was the whole theme of their Map Of The Soul series).

Meanwhile Caramel seems less like a me versus me case, and more of a me as a whole versus the audience. Who I am, and who I am forced to be. Which I guess are two different sides of the same problem, simply from different perspectives.

(Black Swan is more about the loss of love and passion for the art stemming from the pressures of fame, which do see a little bit here but not quite. I won't be surprised to find this theme in other future ST songs though. It certainly points that way)

Now, Shadow is almost entirely focused on that - the dark side of it all, the struggle, the fear. The Map Of The Soul series (Persona, and it's successor Seven, where Shadow is from) is a complex exploration of the various sides of "the self", and how that applies to artists (obviously BTS but any creative will relate to that A LOT).

As such, the hopeful, preserving sides are confined to different songs - the most prevalents being On, and We Are Bulletproof: The Eternal.

Both of these mention how, despite it all, they reached their destination and will continue to walk alongside their fans, through blood and pain and agony. They promise us they will stay and endure, and ask us to do the same along them.

(for context, this album came out early 2020, after many talks of a possible disbandment given the amount of pressure and scrutiny they were facing for becoming too famous too fast. You see the connection.)

THIS is the message that prevails above all, and the more I listen to Caramel, the more it dawns on me that same urge to stay and carry on together.

So stick to me Stick to me like caramel Walk beside me till you feel nothin' as well

Even when he's free-falling, even if he feels trapped and backed into corners, the thing that stands out, very name of the song, is Caramel. Stay with me. I'll continue to dance, but do it with me. Come to the show, sing along. Stick to me.

And. Ugh. I don't know man. There isn't really a poetic way to end this, not groundbreaking final conclusion. Just. Yeah. It's the same as it always has been. We're in this together.

It's hard on his end (and while I am focusing on Vessel, this absolutely does equally applies to the four of them), and because it's hard, he asks us to accompany him. There really isn't much we, as fan, can (or should) do aside from showing up and singing along - both literally and metaphorically. It's a "My struggle is my own, but thank you for listening and sitting beside me".

That's what's it's all about. Connection. Mutual understanding. Crying together and shaking some ass. As much as I feel for him as a regular person deserving of privacy and respect, I'm grateful for being able to enjoy the music and have fun with the rest of this community if you will. By putting out a song as direct as this one, they are trusting us with their struggle and vulnerability, so the best thing we can do in return is simply show up where it matters.

To circle back to that BTS connection, Caramel is MOTS all in one. The ugly and the good all together. And much like them, it all goes back to their core foundation of doing it all together. It's Young Forever. It's Spring Day.

Pass the end of winter's cold Until the spring day comes again Until the flowers bloom again Please stay, please stay there a little longer

[thephoenixandthecrocodile]

This is what I was thinking as well. Durin is in such a precarious position right now. I mean technically he could offer to return the payment his father extracted but something tells me the dwarf lords are going to demand the rings anyway. Additionally the only two people who know the true circumstances of Durin the elders death are Narvi and Disa. It isn’t beyond the realm of possibility that someone suggests Durin the younger did something nasty to keep the rings for himself.

Also the fall of Eregion and the war between Sauron and the Elves puts a lot of pressure on Khazad-dum as well. They’ve lost an important ally and potential buffer between themselves and the ravaging Uruks. They need all the forces they can muster to protect themselves especially if Lindon falls (and it depends on how dire the writers will make that situation) and there’s probably a lot of angry feelings that Celebrimbor trusted Khazad-dum with the rings and no one else. And then Durin immediately went to Celebrimbor and Elronds aid as the same time Durin the elder die. *suuuuuuuuuspiiiiiiiicious* there will probably be ugly rumors about Durin the younger being an elven puppet.

It also depends on the relationship between Durin and his brother. From what we can tell it’s not a great relationship and we don’t know why the brother isn’t in Khazad-dum. It may be a boromir/faramir situation except this time the brothers despise each other instead of love and support each other.

Disa’s role will also be interesting because as much as I love her they’ve shown her to be far more invested and interested in keeping the throne and protecting the kingdom as a ruler than Durin. In season one she told him his brother wouldn’t rule in his place and in season two she was willing to accept the rings if it meant her people would be safe (and quickly regretted that decision but still) and she’s the first to tell Durin to protect their own borders before helping the Elves. Now that kind of makes sense but it’ll be interesting to see how that side of her is developed when Durin’s (and by extension her children’s) right to the throne is challenged. She may end up using the rings to keep the throne instead of Durin (which would be super devastating, especially if Durin also loses Elrond in the process). I’m also really curious about the role their children will play if they’re being officially cast. I foresee some child based manipulation in season 3.

I’m so worried about the friendship between Durin and Elrond. :( I really want their friendship to pull through despite everything but it’s going to be hard once the elves find out about the rings/whoever in Khazad-dum uses them/the choices Durin/Disa/Elrond have to make to protect their people. Especially if Elrond tells Durin to destroy his rings but the dwarves find out the elves are keeping theirs. They’re not going to understand the difference (and there’s probably going to be nasty words said about poor Celebrimbor if they do understand the difference and maybe even believe the Elves worked with Sauron on purpose to undermine the Dwarves) and even if Elrond understands why Durin needs to keep the rings, he’s still going to be stubborn and tell him to destroy them. It’s going to be such a mess. I just want my poly couple be happy, damn it! 😭

I'm just going to bring this up now: Who controls, distributes, and is willing to use the Seven Dwarven Rings is going to play a big part in the Khazad-dum succession issue in the next season of The Rings of Power.

The other Dwarf lords know that the Seven exist, so if Durin does refuse to use his father's Ring like he promised Disa and/or tries to keep the other Rings away from the other Dwarves, they will certainly ally with his brother, who didn't see what Durin III was like at the end and may be less scrupulous.

Will Durin be able to keep both his promise to Disa and his kingdom? If he doesn't keep the promise, will he be able to keep Disa?

Do the Elves even know about the Seven? If they know Dwarven Rings were made, do they know how many? Did any of the smiths survive the fall of Eregion to tell Gil-Galad et al.? If the Elves do know, what does it take to keep the Rings in Dwarven hands? If they don't, how/why do the Dwarves conceal them?

Does Elrond know that Durin has seven Rings of Power in his possession? And what will it mean for Elrond and Durin's relationship if keeping his kingdom means Durin has to use and/or distribute Rings of Power that are certainly corrupted by Sauron? That he may have kept secret?

It seems like Durin, despite having done nothing wrong, is now backed into a situation where he can't win, with seemingly no way out. And that's before bringing the Balrog into the equation.

[nikolas-ghostbusters-fixation]

Something I've been thinking a lot about lately is how everyone thought Egon had gone insane. What Happened that made them think that. They've fought a gigantic Stay Puft Marshmellow Man TWICE (counting the 2009 video game because iirc it's canon? Correct me if I'm wrong), fought an interdimensional god, fought a blood thirsty ruler that killed thousands and was hated by all that was trapped in a painting (and managed to get in to beat him by making THE STATUE OF LIBERTY start walking down the street with slime that reacted purely based on vibes), found an underground abandoned transit system full of the moodslime, had a bathtub try to eat Dana and her baby, fought a giant murderous black widow lady, fought the fisherman ghost who turned an entire hotel floor into the bottom of a ocean, and that's not even mentioning them getting trapped on an island that randomly raised up from underwater that had been abandoned for decades created by Ivor Shandor who worshipped Gozer. So what did he do or say that made everyone else think he'd gone insane?? All I can think is maybe he was acting strange / eratic before, but he's always been like that to some degree.

I don't know. It's something that I've been thinking about. The correct answer is 'it's not that deep and they needed a reason that the others weren't together anymore and weren't aware of Egons death or know what was going on,' but also. What Was He Saying that prompted everyone, including Ray, to think he lost his mind when he'd been right almost every time before that.

I'm genuinely so curious as to what he was up to before this. What was he doing. What insane idea was working on prior to this or was he even working on anything at all??

Also want to clarify this post isn't negative 😭 I really love the newer movies and their lore / the newer storyline / characters, I just like thinking about small stupid things like this. Gives me something to think about / speculate about / figure out an answer to.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

Sometimes I try to write down thoughts about this campaign but I admittedly have not been paying enough attention to feel confident in my character analysis so I write an incoherent text post and then delete it because I don't know if I'm actually making the correct judgments.

[birthclod]

thinking about ch0mpkin's evil evbo post (evilbo, if you will) and going "How can I align this with My Interests (the axes)" and the answer is Very easily actually

[darabeatha]

[gardenerian]

Mel! I’m so curious about the too many beds idea…..👀

i thought about this all day yesterday 😇 and now i finally have a moment to work through all them thoughts askdljfh

so... i am thinking it's a season 3 era AU situation. ian and mickey know of each other, see each other around the neighborhood - maybe ian's friends with mandy, but ian and mickey haven't managed to fully cross paths yet. but i think they're curious about each other? maybe they can sense something about each other, but they've been juuuuust outside each other's orbit. ian's not an idiot though. he knows mickey's beautiful. he also knows mickey would kick his ass if he told him that (or would he?).

so. frank is still an asshole and the kids end up in the system, so ian lands in a group home with lip. terry gets picked up for some reason (a list of charges, no doubt) and mickey/mandy don't scatter fast enough, so they get placed in their respective homes as well.

mickey ends up in the same spot as ian and lip, while mandy is in a girl's home nearby. lip often sneaks out to meet up with her, so ian finds himself on his own most nights. in a highly fictionalized world where the group home is not over crowded, there are like a billion bunkbeds in their room. mickey claims his top bunk immediately and practically growls at anyone that tries to take the bed beneath him - or anything in a two-bed radius, really.

ian struggles a bit. he can't figure out which bed is comfy enough, or feels safe enough... and he can't sleep without someone snoring over him like lip always does at home. he's tired and cranky and fucking miserable. mickey eyes him across the room as he moves from bed to bed every night, testing each one and failing to sleep.

every night, ian gets closer and closer to mickey's bunk. mickey's hackles go up but he can't seem to snap at ian like he has at all the other kids. he just watches as ian shuffles towards him, then finally stands by his bunk one night. he doesn't even say anything, just raises an eyebrow until mickey raises one back. ian gives him a grateful smile and snuggles up in the bunk beneath his. and they both sleep like lil babies.

and maybe they start nodding at each other in the mornings, then eventually sit together at meals... maybe they start playing card games in their bunks...... there's a billion fucking bunkbeds, they could have several to themselves if they really wanted to, but they stick together in there 🥰 they look out for each other, lie for the other when they're out too late, steal extra portions of food if one of them misses a meal...

one night ian is feeling particularly homesick, and he just lays around on mickey's bunk while he's not there. mickey stumbles in later to find ian passed out in his bed. and he could sleep in ian's bed. or he could pick literally any of the bunkbeds in the place, but he just shoves ian over and climbs in. it's dark, several people have snuck out, and he just wants to feel close to someone.

he's up and out of the bed before the sun comes up and anyone sees, but ian knew 😇 he won't tease him or embarrass him, but he smiles a little softer when mickey steals an extra waffle for him at breakfast. they don't sleep in the same bed again, but things get a little more... tactile between them. lingering touches, etc. you know the drill. even their playful shoves get a little fonder.

when they're both out of there and back home, ian gets mickey that job at the store. now they're firmly in each other's orbit and eventually start fooling around... but they never have enough time together and they start to miss their bunkbed bubble. sweet, brave mickey sneaks ian into his house and! there's only one bed! just the right amount of beds!

AND THEN NOTHING BAD HAPPENS THE NEXT DAY.

FIN.