#boy oh boy where do I even start. he’s…well..hes my everything

[stcrgazings]

so american 𓇼 ⋆.˚ op81

note… im sorry i know that this song is about all those london boys but my man oscar deserves some appreciation, and i think it turned out really fun, i wrote this in like a day so it’s not proofread, but i hope all my Oscar girlies enjoy. <3

warnings… mentions of alcohol if you like squint very very hard, and implications of smut.

summary… you’re all about those chick-fil-a and parties in the usa, but also all about a driver named oscar piastri who shows you that maybe australian food is better than all the taco bells in the world, you’re so very american but also so very in love.

word count… 1.5k (shortie but goodie)

—

You’re standing in the middle of a stage in some shady karaoke somewhere in Japan, he’s sitting right in front of you, smiling, completely mesmerized like he always seems to be when it comes to you.

“Driving on the right side road…”

—

“Please be careful, please.” He begs as he covers one eye, you’re obviously smiling completely amused by his freak out behavior as you pull out to the road.

You’re a new team ambassador, and have been for a few months now, the team completely thrilled to have one of the most famous singers in the world and the newest it girl of the generation wanting to spent so much time at their paddock and shooting content for them.

But of course you’ll do it if it means you get to be with Oscar.

“Will you calm down? I’ve driven before you know.” You joke, while he paces himself, you’re in some deserted roads near the McLaren headquarters, and he looks completely miserable.

“Yeah I know, but I can’t help but freak out when you’re driving on the wrong side of the road in my two hundred and forty thousand euros car.” He says, his hand grabbing the steering wheel slightly, pulling the car in to the right side of the road.

“Oh shoot, I forgot, it’s not my fault everything here is backwards Osc.” He laughs, rolling his eyes, while you bite your lip, completely ashamed and blushed too.

“Jesus, you’re so American.”

—

“Chick-fil-A is better than any Australian restaurant.” You say matter of factly, Oscar staring at you like you just murdered his entire family.

“No it’s not, take it bac-“

“-Is that Oscar’s sweater?” Lando interrupts him as he stares at you, more specifically at the sweater you’re wearing, one that he is certain he has seen Oscar wear at least a hundred times.

You blush as you nod. “Yeah, Osc let me borrow it back at the airport.” You explain, bitting your tongue as you beg to god that Lando believes the blatant lie you just told.

Oscar, just smiles innocently, clearly entertained by the situation, like you didn’t have to borrow the sweater in the first place because last night he gifted you hickey in your collar bone the size of Europe.

“Doesn’t she look pretty?” He asks, Lando still pretty much confused and lost of words, while you cover your blushed face with your hands.

“I’m not really understandi-“

—

“You have the coldest hands, it’s not even funny” you joke, while you feel his smirk right against your neck, making you giggle softly.

You’re in a cramp up supplies closet in the McLaren garage, his hands sneaking under your shirt, the coldness of them making you shiver and laugh as they unbutton your Bra.

“Well, you certainly seemed to love them last night, and this morning too.” He teased, removing your shirt completely as you pushed him slightly, pulling him back almost immediately to kiss him.

“I hate you” you managed to say in between kisses, your mind completely reduced to pout as your head is thrown back while he nips your jaw and then your neck and then-

"-Where the hell is Oscar?! Practice starts in ten minutes” the voice of one of the McLaren engineers interrupts him, your eyes shoot open, pushing him away almost immediately, because you’re not about to be caught half naked and making out by one of his engineers.

“Aaaand we’re done here” you declare. Oscar groans in frustration, his head placed in your naked chest. “Kill me now”

You pressed your lips together, knowing you won’t be able to continue your little escapade, your hands leaving soft pets all over his hair.

“You need to go babe.” You whisper, lips against his head, leaving one soft kiss there, as he hands you your shirt and bra from the concrete floor.

“I hate it here” he complains, as you put your clothes back on and he guards the door so that no one walks in to watch you naked.

“Kiss” you say, puckering your lips at him.

He smirks. “No” he jokes with a killer smile on his face but he’s already leaning in to kiss you.

—

“You were supposed to take that exit!” He exclaims, pointing at the exit that you just passed.

“You told me in 1.2 miles! That wasn’t 1.2 miles!” You exclaims, clearly stressed as you tries to switch lanes while Oscar covers his face with his hands, laughing. “I said kilometers baby, not miles”

“You know that I don’t do kilometers!” You protest clearly frustrated because you hate driving in highways, while he smiles at you sweetly, his feet on the dashboard and his head pressed against his hands behind his neck.

You turn around to see him, just for a second, he’s smiling brightly, like he always is, UK’s sun shining into his face, making him even more dreamy than he already is. Oscar is someone you sometimes feel like he isn’t even real, like you just made him up, an old poem you’d wish you’d wrote.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll just be late to the meeting.” He smiles, as you take the next exit, so he can drive and you can admire him a little longer.

—

“I might just be in love guys” you tell you’re friends, who look at you completely astonished and completely lost of words, at you and your heart eyes face.

“I mean he’s cute, but in love? Girl, is he that good? Your best friend asks, and you nod, an amusement expression setting in her face.

“I’ve never seen you like this” your other friend says, and it’s true, because no one’s ever make you feel like Oscar does.

“I mean, he’s just so charming, and pretty, and nice and a gentleman in all senses of the word, he laughs at all my jokes, buys me flowers when there’s no special occasion and even sends deliveries to my apartment with just the food I like. I mean who could I not be in love?” You try to explain yourself, as they all mock you.

“Oh yes Oscar! I’ll go to fucking Azerbaijan with you!” One of them says in a high pitched voice, the whole table laughing, making you throw your French Fries at them.

Because yes, you did ditch them for a race weekend in Baku with him, because how could you not.

“Well guys, when you guys have a handsome f1 pilot of a boyfriend you’ll understand why I’ll go anywhere he goes.” You tell them, completely defeated against their teasing. “I’m sorry if I’m being a little too much just a little too soon”

You apologize, but you’re 100% not sorry.

“About that, because I too want an f1 pilot of a boyfriend. Can you do me solid with the Charles Leclerc guy? Because man he can get it”

“Oh my god!”

—

“I’m telling you guys! They are totally sleeping together.” Lando tells Carlos and Charles, as the three of them share lunch, the Ferrari pair not believing a word of what he’s saying.

“Man, there’s no way Oscar scored the hottest chick in the planet” Carlos says, taking a bite of his pastrami sandwich, Lando completely frustrated at the fact that absolutely no one believes him and his theory that you and Oscar are sleeping together.

“Yeah dude, forget it, even I wanna sleep with her.” Charles adds, and Lando groans in frustration pulling his hair out and also offended for Oscar.

“You’re telling me you don’t think my boy has game?” He accused the pair, the both of them nodding like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“To pull that?” Charles points with his head one of your advertisement with McLaren. “Definitely not.”

—

He’s just won in Hungary, and it makes you feel something that you’ve never even felt before as he blows a kiss at you from the podium, your stomach fluttering like a 16-year-old kid.

You feel your heart grow with pride and love, smiling at him from the pit, champagne splashing you everywhere.

You made your relationship public just a few hours ago, a very hard launch as he posted a picture of you eating breakfast in his hotel room.

Lando wins five hundred bucks, Carlos, Charles, Lewis and two McLaren engineers lost a hundred each.

You’re ecstatic, even with the media and the gossips talking about a possible pr relationship you’re pretty much happier than ever.

And you don’t know if what you now have is forever, but something in your gut tells you it is, because he’s the most real thing you’ve ever found, not even fair or close to what your past relationships had been.

That night, you celebrated between drunken kisses and twisted sheets, and for now it’s more that enough.

But you do promise yourself that one your so american ass, will marry him.

[corroded-hellfire]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRESrvDc/

Omg please make this an AYW one shot like imagine Luke and Ryan going big brother mode on someone messing with Eliza

This is the relationship I aspire for my future children to have. My first thought was, "Eddie needs to be told this is a joke so he doesn't freak out even more than the boys." lol

Words: 1.8k

[As You Wish masterlist]

"This gonna be so funny!"

Eddie comes to a halt outside Eliza's room. The mischievous tone to her voice reminded Eddie of a scheming goblin he'd seen in some fantasy movie somewhere. Normally, he'd associate that comparison more with Luke than tiny three-year-old Eliza, but she was certainly well on her way to earning her own title. 

A thought occurs to your husband: what if Luke and Eliza are working together? Whoever the target is doesn't stand a chance. The surge of panic has him pushing the slightly ajar door open to make sure there isn't some diabolical plan to burn the kitchen down in protest of having vegetables with dinner tonight. It's a complete shock to the system though, when Eddie sees you sitting on the soft pink carpet, cross-legged as your daughter sits across from you. Both of your beautiful faces turn to look at him and Eddie is simultaneously amused and leery of the maniacal smile on Eliza's small pink mouth. 

"Um..." Eddie hums, eyes going back and forth between you and Eliza. "What's going on here?"

"Oh, nothing," you say far too casually to be believable. 

"We gonna get the boys!"

Eliza's admission has you looking back at her, internally reminding yourself that it's good she tells the truth—even if she's a snitch at the moment.

Eddie chuckles and rests his shoulder against the doorjamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and raises his eyebrows at the two of you.

"Is that so?"

"Mhmm!" Eliza replies. "Cause they ate my noodles. After Mama writed my name on them!"

It doesn't surprise Eddie in the least. The two growing teenage boys would eat anything and everything in sight. He never thought his food would be safer in the fridge at work than in the one at home. 

"What exactly are we planning, ladies?" Eddie cocks an eyebrow, making you feel like a child right alongside your kid. "Not anything I'll have to clean up after, I hope."

"Oh, don't worry." You wave a dismissive hand at your husband. "It's just a joke to see how they react."

"To what?"

"Shhh!" Eliza pushes herself up and rushes forward to cover your mouth with her little hands. It's impossible not to laugh against her palms as she looks at you with imploring eyes. 

Gently, you remove her hands from your face and tug her so she's sitting in your lap.

"Nothing bad," you assure Eddie. "I promise."

Eddie didn't need you to tell him that; he trusts you with not only his own life but the lives of all the kids as well. You would never do anything that would hurt them. 

"Can I watch?" he asks.

Eliza nods. "But you gotta hide!"

"Where?"

"They're watching tv, right?" you ask, maneuvering Eliza to the side so you're able to stand up. 

"Yeah. Some movie with Jack Black starting a band of children."

Eliza grabs your hand in hers as the two of you head towards the door. 

"We'll walk through there and into the kitchen," you explain. "You can stay in the hallway and peek out. And remember..." You reach up and lovingly tap Eddie's right cheek. "What we're going to say isn't true. It's part of the prank."

Eddie's brow furrows and he tilts his chin up.

"That doesn't sound reassuring."

"Is a joke, Daddy!" Eliza explains, making you giggle. 

"Alright, alright," Eddie laments, leaning down to playfully pinch her nose. She swiftly bats his hand away and ducks between the two of you out into the hall. 

You follow out behind her, motioning for your husband to follow behind—but at a distance. He nods in understanding and keeps a few paces behind his favorite girls. 

As you approach the living room, Eliza starts to giggle. You widen your eyes at her and hold your finger up to your lips, reminding her she has to act serious if she wants her brothers to buy your act. She nods and follows your lead to take a deep breath. 

You motion for her to head out into the room the boys are relaxing in. She strolls out, alarmingly casual for a three-year-old playing a prank. Before you follow out after her, you look over your shoulder and share a look of amusement with Eddie.

"Your daughter," you whisper, not giving your husband time to respond before following behind her. Quietly, you clear your throat in preparation for your first line: "Are you serious?" You internally wince as your voice comes out a tad dramatic, but you have to keep it mildly louder than usual to catch the boys' attention. 

Eliza's small stride allows you to be at her side a moment later. You check on your sons out of the corner of your eye and see them lounging on the two couches in the living room, faces blank and devoid of a care in the world as they watch the movie. 

"A boy pushed you down on the playground today?" you ask, turning your attention to Eliza at your side. 

"Mhmm," she hums, only the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

In your peripheral vision you see Ryan turn his head in your direction. His posture straightens a little, his attention securely locked in on your prank. 

"How old was he?" you ask Eliza.

"Eight."

"An eight-year-old pushed Eliza down on the playground?" Ryan shouts, practically launching himself out of his seat. 

"What?" Luke adds, voice booming as his brother's words pull him in. He jumps off the couch and both teenage boys cut off your and Eliza's path to the kitchen, forcing the two of you to come to a halt.

On one hand, this is the hardest it's been so far to keep yourself from breaking character. On the other hand, seeing the true concern and ire in the eyes of Eliza's big brothers is moving. The protectiveness they have for their little sister and the readiness to defend her at the drop of a hat is so touching that you fight tears from filling your eyes. 

"What happened?" Ryan demands.

"Were you with Grandpa? Did he see it?" Luke questions.

You expect Eliza to crack right there, let out a loud laugh, and tell her brothers that they should see the looks on their faces. Instead, she proves to be a master at improv as she replies. 

"It was behind the slide. He didn't see."

"Did you tell him?" Luke takes a step closer, practically towering over the three-year-old. 

"No."

"Why not?" Ryan is almost shouting at this point. 

"Who was it?" Luke asks, not allowing Eliza a moment to answer the older Munson brother's question. "Do you know him?"

"How would she know an eight-year-old?" Ryan asks, turning to look at the thirteen-year-old.

"I don't know. How did she know he was eight then?" Luke squabbles. 

As if knowing this is the moment that neither of you could keep the ruse up any longer, both you and Eliza break into a devious bout of giggles. 

The confused look on the boys' faces is enough to make you and Eliza laugh even harder.

"I don't think this is funny," Ryan says.

"But it's not true!" Eliza yells, jumping up and down in excitement.

"What?" The look on Luke's face is reminiscent of when he found out his favorite cereal brand had been discontinued. 

"We pranked you!" Eliza shoves her finger into their faces, an evil grin on her own. 

You can see the gears turning in both boys' heads as they take in her words and try to comprehend what is happening. 

"No one pushed me!"

Luke tilts his head to the side before running his hands over his face. "I'm so confused."

"This is Eliza's little payback for you two eating her macaroni and cheese," you explain, planting your hands on your hips. 

"You were in on this?!" Luke's shock causes his changing voice to crack. 

"Girls gotta stick together." You hold your hand out towards your daughter, and she jumps up and slaps a high five against it.

Ryan groans and drops his head back, glaring up at the ceiling.

"You guys suck," he complains. "I was really worried!"

"I have been betrayed." Luke mimes getting stabbed in the heart and crumbles down on the carpet. Eliza laughs and starts to crawl on top of him. Waiting for the right moment, Luke snatches his little sister to his chest and starts tickling her.

She squeals and starts squirming around in his grip.

"Nooooo! Ryan, help!"

The fifteen-year-old scoffs and folds his arms across his chest.

"No way, squirt. Not after that."

"Mama!" Eliza calls through her peals of laughter. "Help me!"

Before you can even take a step toward the two of them on the ground, Ryan comes forward and wraps his arms around you. It's an approximation of a hug, but it's really to keep you where you are; standing a couple of feet away with your arms locked against your sides.

"Ryan!" You laugh.

"What?" he asks, unable to keep from chuckling himself. "I'm just hugging you!"

"Lies!" Eliza yells.

"You're one to talk!" Ryan calls back. 

"Daddy!" It's Eliza's last attempt at help.

"He's not here to help you," Luke taunts, adding an evil laugh for emphasis. 

"Yes huh!" Eliza squeaks.

As calmly and casually as can be, Eddie strolls out from the hallway and eyes the four members of his family, slipping his hands into his pockets as he watches it all.

"What's up, sweet pea?" he asks. 

She shrieks as Luke tickles a particularly vulnerable spot. 

"Help!"

"Pick a side, Dad," Ryan says.

"Choose wisely!" Luke adds. 

"I'm his baby!" Eliza argues.

"But you guys said girls stick together and he's not a girl!" Luke reasons. "He should be on the guys' side!"

"Hmm." Eddie lazily tilts his head to the side, his fading brown curls falling against his shoulder. "You both make excellent points."

"What about me?" you ask, struggling in Ryan's hold. "I'm your wife!"

"But you've known us longer!" Ryan retorts. 

"I think I'll stay impartial." Eddie shrugs, keeping a bored expression on his face. "Maybe I'll go make some macaroni and cheese."

"The root of all evil," Luke laments with a sigh, ceasing his attack on Eliza. The little girl is quick to slip from his grasp, immediately running up to Ryan and attempting to shove him away from you.

"Get off Mama!"

"I'm just hugging her," Ryan says, planting his feet to resist her impressive strength. 

"Daddy, help!"

Eddie shrugs. "Sure." He takes a step forward and scoops Eliza up, tossing her over his shoulder as if she were a rag doll. 

"No!" 

Her legs flail but Eddie keeps a strong grip around her middle. Small hands pound against his back, but Eddie ignores all attempts at escape as he keeps walking into the kitchen. Tired from fighting off Luke a moment ago, Eliza lets her body go limp over her father's shoulders. She heaves a sigh filled with the exasperation of someone three times her age.

"Boys."

[just-j916]

The Guilt of a Gunshot

This is inspired by this post from @ideasarestuckinmyhead! : read here!

This is also my first fanfic that has been sitting in my drafts for about a month now—so enjoy!

Word count: 1467

The silence after the shot was eerie; so eerie that it almost hurt. Sugarboo slowly lowering their arm that held the gun as the adrenaline had started to wear off.

They felt like they could scream, cry, do something, anything to prove that they felt something after shooting Derek. But… no. They couldn’t. Not after what they did. They knew what they were getting themselves into. They… asked for this. They did this for their boys. Even though they might not forgive them for what they had done.

Before they walked to the door, Sugarboo looked at Derek’s lifeless body, emotionless. No remorse. No mercy. Just blank.

Upon opening the door, to their confusion, there seemed to be nobody in the bar anymore. 


‘Did everyone leave?’ They thought. They figured the gunshot was loud but they didn’t anticipate that everyone would scramble. They then thought back to what Alphonse said. The gun would be enough to scare rats shitless.

They looked around and noticed two bodies on the ground of the bar. One of them being the “guard” that they’d seen when they first walked in with Derek and the other was… familiar. The confusion turned into fear as they realized that the other body was Seth’s.

“Holy shit! Seth! Oh god, you—you’re bleeding!”

They carefully and somehow successfully managed to pick up Seth’s body, considering he was taller and bigger than they were. They carefully placed his head on their shoulder as they tried to gently shake Seth awake. They knew that this was their fault that he was like this. He must’ve come looking for them. And that thought alone was enough to make Sugarboo’s heart drop.

“Seth… please wake up. I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean for this to happen to you I just—!”

“Sugar…”

That sentence alone was enough to cause them to pause. They looked down at Seth’s face and noticed that he was conscious.

“Seth! Thank goodness you’re alright! I’m so sorry about everything I just—!”

“Shh… Sugar… it’s alright. I’m alright. I’m just… so tired.”

“Seth, please stay awake… just until I can find Alphonse so he can drive you to a hospital. Where is he? If you’re here then shouldn’t he be close by?”

“No, he’s at the train yard. We… split up to look for you.”

They figured that their boys would look for them. But it didn’t hurt any less hearing it aloud.

“I guess I’ll have to get there by foot. I can’t risk your injury getting worse but I can’t just leave you here—fuck! What do I do?”

Just as they finished their statement as they dredged out the bar with Seth in their arms, they noticed a similar van pull up.

“Is that… Charlie’s van?”

Sugarboo looked at Seth confused until the passenger window rolled down revealing Jessie.

“Ma, how did you get that hunk-a-junk to start?”

The question asked was quickly interrupted by Jessie.

“There’s no time for questions, hun. Just get in the van so we can get you boys to a hospital. I already picked up Alphonse from the train yard and he’s… well… roughed up.”

This caused Sugarboo to freeze up. Both of their boys had gotten hurt because of them? They devised this plan to try to help them but instead they… made everything… worse.

Jessie seemed to notice the expression on Sugarboo’s face and she was quick to cut them from their thoughts.

“Sugar, Alphonse is going to be okay. I promise. We just need to get both of them checked out to make sure nothing else serious is wrong.”

This was three hours ago. Three long, excruciating hours. They sat in the waiting room, embarrassed, ashamed, and just… empty. They had solved their problem but at what cost? The boys getting hurt? Them being tainted? It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. But they didn’t have any right to feel like that. They had to be the strong one. The one who kept everything together. The one who fixed everything.

They had managed to help Alphonse and Seth to make amends. They had managed to create countless goodies for people across their nowhere town. They had managed to keep everything together even when they felt like a third-wheel when the three were in the same house. Their house. Why did being strong hurt so bad?

They were pulled out of their thoughts when they heard footsteps walking towards them. They looked up to find Jessie, who gave them a slightly solemn look.

“You alright, Sugar?”

They could barely move. Whether it was from shock or just pure exhaustion, nodding their head seemed like an almost impossible task. Keyword: almost.

“I… I’m fine.”

Jessie sighed before taking a seat right next to them before putting a hand on their shoulder.

“Sugar if you need to cry, then cry. I promise I’m not going to judge you for doing so.”

With that sentence, everything about their facade seemed to fall as quickly as the tears fell down. They quietly sobbed as Jessie wrapped her arms around them.

“They’re going to be so… pissed at me.”

“No, Sugar, I promise you those boys aren’t going to be angry at you. They love you so much. They are in that room right now, waiting for you. Hell, when I went in there the first thing that Alphonse asked me was if you were alright. They are going to be thrilled to see you.”

Were they though? Would they accept the fact that they shot Derek? Would they still accept them if they had blood on their hands now?

After a few minutes, they seemed to have settled down, so Jessie escorted them to the room the boys were staying in. They looked at the door, scared. They took a deep breath before knocking on the door. They heard a familiar voice, which seemed to be Alphonse’s, telling them to come in.

Once they opened up the door, they slowly slipped into the room, their eyes quickly darting to the ground. Too afraid to look either of them in the eyes.

“Boo! Hey! There you are!”

“Hey, Sugar…”

Both of the boys quickly could tell something was up as they both glanced at each other from their separate beds before turning back to Sugarboo.

“Boo, are you alright? You aren’t hurt are you? Come here.”

Sugarboo walked over towards Alphonse’s hospital bed before taking a seat in front of Alphonse. He scanned them for injuries and didn’t see anything visible. While the injuries weren’t visible to him, he could tell that they had been crying, so they were obviously upset. He cupped their cheek with his hand and slowly turned their head to look at him.

“Boo, I can tell you’ve been crying. What’s the matter? Derek didn’t hurt you, did he?”Alphonse managed to breathe out.

They shook their head before they started to weep. The tears fell down their face once again. What happened to keeping it together in front of them? They don’t know.

Alphonse quickly wrapped them in a tight hug with one of his hands on the back of their head, slowly brushing his hand through their hair, trying to comfort them.

“I’m so sorry�� the both of you got hurt because of me. I wanted to help and I just—!”

“Boo… shhh… it’s okay…”

“No it’s not! I fucked up and you both should be upset with me right now…”

“Hey… Boo, look at me…”

Reluctantly, they turned their head upwards towards Alphonse.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. While what you did scared me a bit, I’m not mad at you…”

“Well, you should be…”

“Boo, what you did took guts. I wouldn’t ever be mad at you for doing what you did. Although, I would appreciate a heads up next time…” Alphonse admitted, smiling softly at Sugarboo.

Seth watched the two fondly as he sat up in his hospital bed. Seth laughed before following up with, “Yeah, I would prefer if there wasn’t a next time. Ever.”

Sugarboo turned away from Seth, chuckling at his words before looking back at Alphonse. They looked at the bruises and marks on him as the guilt began to wash over them once more.

“Boo, hey… I’m alright. It’s nothing that I haven’t dealt with before,” Alphonse admitted with a slight smile on his face.

Tears welled up in Sugarboo’s eyes as they tried so hard to hold it together. Seeing him like that hurt. They knew that this was their doing.

Almost immediately and instantaneously, both boys are by their side, comforting them. Even if they didn’t know if they deserved such kindness after what they did, they chose to bask in the warmth provided by their boys. Just for a little while longer.

[viagracex]

pls could you do one where r doesn’t drink- maybe because of childhood or something else, and is worried what the boys (like the Arthurs, Chris, batch) will think, but George just supports and loves her? comfort and fluff omg 💔

Beyond the Bottle

george clarkey x reader

summary: At game night, your choice not to drink sparks supportive gestures and honest conversations

warnings: brief mentions of childhood trauma, alcoholism, and abuse

note: this one was a bit harder to write for me for personal reason. so i kept everything on a lighter note. sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted.

2.1k words

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

You fidgeted nervously with the hem of your sweater as you stood in George's kitchen, watching him grab drinks for the rest of the boys. The sound of laughter and chatter drifted in from the living room where Arthur, Chris, and the others were hanging out. Your stomach twisted with anxiety.

George turned to you with a gentle smile, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. "You alright, love?" he asked softly.

You nodded, trying to force a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

George set down the bottles he was holding and stepped closer, gently taking your hands in his. "Hey, what's really going on? You can tell me anything, you know that."

George waited patiently, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze. Taking a deep breath, you finally met his eyes.

"I don't drink," you confessed in a rush. "And I'm worried what the boys will think. I don't want to be a buzzkill or make things awkward."

Understanding dawned on George's face. He pulled you into a tender embrace, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"Oh, love," George murmured softly, his breath warm against your ear. "You don't have to drink if you don't want to. The lads won't care one bit, I promise."

You pulled back slightly, searching his eyes. "Are you sure? I don't want to be the odd one out."

George cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing your cheek. "You could never be the odd one out. Not to me, not to them. We love you just as you are. They're good guys, yeah? They'll understand."

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension from your shoulders. You leaned into his touch, drawing strength from his unwavering support.

"It's just..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "After what happened with my dad, I can't... I can't be around alcohol without feeling sick."

George's eyes softened with understanding and a fierce protectiveness. He knew about your childhood, about the nights spent hiding from your father's drunken rages. The scars it had left, invisible but deep.

As if on cue, Arthur's booming laugh echoed from the living room, followed by Chris's playful jab "Oi, Clarkey! Where's those drinks, mate? We're dying of thirst out here!"

You tensed, but George just chuckled and called back, "Keep your pants on, lads! Be there in a moment!"

Turning back to you, he said softly, "Listen, you don't owe anyone an explanation, alright? But if you want to tell them, I'll be right there with you. And if you'd rather not, that's fine too. I'll just grab you a fizzy drink or whatever.

Your eyes welled up with a mixture of relief and gratitude, your voice thick with emotion as you responded. "Thank you, George. Really, it means so much to me, you always know how to make things easier."

"I've got you," he said, his voice full of quiet conviction. "And I've got an idea."

George turned to the fridge, rummaging around for a moment before emerging with a bright smile. In his hands were two cans of sparkling water, festively decorated with fruity designs.

"How about we make our own special mocktails?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "We can get all fancy with it - add some fresh fruit, maybe even those little umbrellas I've got stashed away somewhere."

You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. This was the George you had fallen for - the one who could light up a room with his infectious energy, who always found a way to make you feel special and included.

"That sounds perfect," you said, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

George set about gathering ingredients - fresh strawberries, lime wedges, and orange juice. As he worked, he regaled you with stories from his latest YouTube video shoot, his animated gestures sending drops of juice flying as he squeezed the limes.

"And then," he said, barely containing his giggles, "Arthur decided it would be a brilliant idea to try and backflip off the sofa. Ended up with his legs over his head, stuck between the cushions!"

With practiced ease, he mixed them together in a tall glass, adding a splash of grenadine syrup for color. He garnished it with a slice of orange and a cherry, presenting it to you with a flourish.

"Your very own mocktail, love," George said with a wink. "It'll look just like what the lads are drinking, but it's all safe for you."

Your heart swelled with affection for this wonderful man who always seemed to know exactly what you needed. You took a sip, the sweet and tangy flavors dancing on your tongue.

"It's perfect," you said, smiling genuinely for the first time that evening.

George beamed, clearly pleased. He gathered up the other drinks and gestured towards the living room. "Ready to join the others?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of courage. With George by your side, you could face anything.

As you entered the living room, the boys greeted you warmly. Arthur's face lit up when he saw you, his grin wide and welcoming. "There you are! We were starting to think George had kidnapped you for himself."

Chris chimed in, raising his beer bottle in a mock toast. "Cheers, love! What's your poison tonight?"

You felt a flicker of anxiety, but George's steady presence beside you gave you strength. "Actually," you started, your voice stronger than you expected, "I've got a special mocktail tonight. George made it for me."

The room fell silent for a moment, and you felt your heart skip a beat. Then, to your relief, Chris’s face broke into a wide grin.

"Well, well, well," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "A mocktail, eh? God, did he knock you up or something?”

Your face flushed crimson, and you stammered, unable to form words. George quickly stepped in, his arm protectively wrapping around your waist.

"Oi, chill out, mate," he said, his tone light but with a hint of warning. "It's not like that."

You took a deep breath, drawing strength from George's steady presence. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response. The soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light over the gathered friends, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern.

"I... I don't drink," you explained, your voice barely above a whisper. "Because of some things that happened when I was a kid. It's just... it's not for me."

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you braced yourself for their reaction. But to your surprise, Arthur was the first to react. His face softened, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Hey, no worries at all," he said, his voice gentle. "We're just glad you're here with us."

Chris nodded emphatically, looking a bit sheepish. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that comment. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

The tension in the room dissipated like morning mist, replaced by a warm, accepting atmosphere. You felt George's arm tighten around you, and when you glanced up at him, his eyes were shining with pride and love.

"See?" he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Told you they'd understand."

As the evening progressed, you found yourself relaxing more and more. The boys didn't treat you any differently, including you in their jokes and conversations as if nothing had changed. They even started asking about your mocktail, genuinely curious about the recipe.

At one point, Arthur disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a tray of glasses filled with colorful, non-alcoholic concoctions. "Thought we'd all give it a go”

As Arthur set down the tray of mocktails, the living room erupted in a chorus of excited chatter. Chris reached for a vibrant blue drink, garnished with a pineapple wedge and a tiny paper umbrella. He took a tentative sip, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"This is actually quite good!" he mentioned, taking another hearty gulp.

The others followed suit, each selecting a colorful concoction. The room filled with the sweet, fruity aroma of tropical punch and freshly squeezed citrus. You couldn't help but smile as you watched your friends enthusiastically compare flavors and debate which mocktail reigned supreme.

As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew increasingly jovial. Bach suggested a game of charades, and soon the living room was filled with raucous laughter as everyone took turns acting out increasingly ridiculous scenarios. You found yourself doubling over with giggles as Isaac's attempted to mime "The Lion King" while balanced precariously on the arm of the sofa, his arms outstretched in a comical imitation of Simba being presented to the animal kingdom.

The warm glow of the lamps cast dancing shadows on the walls as the night deepened. The air was thick with laughter and the sweet scent of fruit from the mocktails. You found yourself swept up in the joy of the moment, your earlier anxieties melting away like ice in the summer sun.

As the charades game wound down, Chris suggested a round of board games. Soon, the coffee table was covered in a colorful array of game boxes, their contents spilling out in a cheerful mess. Monopoly money fluttered to the floor as Arthur dramatically declared bankruptcy, while Bach meticulously arranged his Scrabble tiles, a look of intense concentration on his face.

The room was alive with friendly banter and playful accusations of cheating. You couldn't help but marvel at how seamlessly you had been integrated into this tight-knit group of friends. Their acceptance warmed you from the inside out, like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter's night.

You found yourself nestled comfortably on the plush sofa, your legs tucked underneath you. George sat beside you, his arm draped casually over your shoulders, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. The warmth of his touch and the genuine camaraderie surrounding you melted away the last of your earlier anxiety.

George glanced over at you, his eyes soft and full of love. "Did you have a good time tonight?" he whispered, his voice just loud enough for only you to hear over the gentle murmur of conversations tapering off around you.

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the room's laughter-filled atmosphere. "I really did, thanks to you," you replied, your voice tinged with heartfelt gratitude.

George's smile widened, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Anything for you," he murmured. As the others began to gather their things and say their goodbyes, George turned to face you more fully. "You know, I'm really proud of you tonight. You opened up, and that's not always easy. But you did it, and see? They all love you just as much as I do."

The room had mostly emptied, leaving just the two of you in the cozy aftermath of a night well spent. The gentle clink of dishes being gathered and the soft closing of doors punctuated the quiet.

"Thank you for being so supportive," you said, your voice soft but steady. "It means the world to me, knowing I can be myself around you and your friends."

George's hand caressed your cheek, his touch tender. "Always," he promised. "You never have to be anyone but yourself around me. That's the person I fell in love with."

The two of you sat there for a moment, wrapped up in each other's presence, the comforting silence enveloping you like a blanket. Outside, the night grew deeper, the moon casting a silvery glow through the windows, bathing the room in a soft, peaceful light.

Finally, George stood, offering you his hand with a charming grin. "Let's call it a night, yeah? I think we could both use some sleep after all this excitement."

You took his hand, squeezing it gently, and let him pull you to your feet. As you headed toward the bedroom, your heart felt light and your spirits lifted. The evening had started with anxiety, but it ended with laughter, acceptance, and the unshakeable support of the man you loved. Tonight wasn't just another social gathering; it was a reaffirmation of everything wonderful in your life.

In the quiet of the bedroom, with only the soft rustle of sheets and the distant hush of the city at night, George pulled you into his arms, holding you close. His heartbeat, steady and reassuring against your ear, was a reminder of the constant strength and comfort he provided.

"Goodnight, love," he whispered, his breath warm against your hair.

"Goodnight, babe," you replied, your voice a contented sigh. As you drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in the love and warmth of the man beside you, you knew that no matter what the future held, with George, you would always have a place to belong.

[purble-turble]

I know TT Red takes place Season 1, but how do you think he handles S2 to S5?

There's so many ways this could potentially go, where on so many ocassions TT Red goes to the future in the middle of an adventure and gets traumatized way more than how much LBD did to MK.

Season 4 would be such a mess, especially if all of TT Red's experiences got documented in the scroll of memory once he got sucked in, and then MK and Mei had to go through so many of these futures trying to find TT Red.

AND SEASON 5. Oh dear I think I know how this would make sense now:

This is post season five and TT Red's way of going "I don't want you killing yourself all over again, this is for your protection. Just like for Wukong, I want you to be out of trouble. Please trust me I love you dearly (BUT NOT TOO MUCH) and I wanna make sure you're alive and well."

TT Red becomes an absolute wreck by the end of lmk so far and I think it would absolutely show during this sort of timeline.

Oh my god.. ok, so that Season 5 aftermath you proposed is great, but I HAVE to focus on what you said about the memory scroll for season 4 because it’s fucking amazing!

Red Son gets pulled into the memory scroll, but instead of just being his past in its relation to Journey to the West, EVERYTHING he has done, including all the futures he has had to visit, all have had an influence on how the scroll appears for him.. He’s got some wild, temporal/interdimensional nonsense going on with him that makes the scroll act in unusual ways, so honestly why are they even surprised? 😂

MK and the gang all have to find their way through a bunch of different universes in which there are different versions of themselves but also almost every one of them has a Red Son, too.. So not only do they have to watch out and not lose track of each other lest they not know which of them is which (they definitely do at points, maybe even all getting split up and ending up in a future of their own) but they also need to figure out which of these Red Sons is actually THEIR Red Son so they can jar his memory and get him back to his normal self… this is easier said than done.

Also, it gives them all a little taste of just how fucked up TT Red’s solo time adventures are sometimes. They see versions of the world where the city is destroyed, where demons have destroyed Pigsy’s Noodles, where one or several of them have died, that one where Red Son sacrificed himself and MK is left sad and hollow.. not all of them are so bad, though. Maybe they get lucky and stumble upon one where it’s way far in the future and Red and MK are happily married with a family, and MK hopes beyond hope pLEASE let this Red Son be HIS Red Son… it’s not, but boy that would have been nice if that was his, like, “true self” or whatever this scroll is doing to them.

Eventually they make it to the start of it all: Demon King Red’s timeline. MK is desperate at this point to find his Red Son, but when he makes his way into this lavish throne room and sees a king version of Red sitting on a throne, he’s like “oh FUCK no. That is definitely NOT my Red Son.” All his friends are hemming and hawing like, well, maybe it could be?? Isn’t that how Red Son sees himself? Isn’t becoming that guy what he’s afraid of??? It’s kinda shitty, but maybe the scroll WOULD turn Red Son into Demon King Red.

MK isn’t convinced. He insists that it’s NOT POSSIBLE. In fact, he uses his Smartie Kid brain and deduces that, for all the rest of them, they were lost in a role of a person that they used to be, whether it was a reincarnation or an ancestor or whatever their deal was… but Red Son has never been (and NEVER WILL BE, MK insists) Demon King Red. So they’ve been going about this all wrong. They shouldn’t be trying to find the Red Son for each of these timelines and seeing if their Red has been turned into them.. they should be trying to find wherever their own Red Son would be in within that timeline!

In the case of Demon King Red, MK remembers what he was told about his time in the palace.. he dodges a hug from the mad king, leaving his friends to hold him off, and scoots right past him to make a break for the dungeon. He finds his Red Son locked up down there- short hair, tattered jacket, square glasses and all.. but something new as well: a red circlet on his head.

When he spots MK he starts to panic, he insists that MK go and leave him there. He shouldn’t have come to rescue him- he’s not worth it! If the mad king finds MK there, it will be all over, and freeing Red Son isn’t worth the risk! MK pries open the cell and reaches out for Red, insisting that isn’t true. He’ll always be there for him, even when he’s at his lowest because he loves him! Red Son still doesn’t go for his hand, falling back and curling in on himself in despair. He insists again that that makes no sense… MK should hate him. He would be fully justified to leave Red behind to rot in this cell forever.. it’s no less than he deserves.

MK has to grab him, cupping his face forcefully in his hands and making Red Son look up at him again to stop him from spiraling. No, he shouts, that’s wrong! Red Son doesn’t deserve this! Not one bit of it! He has worked so SO hard to change himself into a better person, and the fact that he is has been through so much and seen so many terrible possible futures but is still trying so hard means he is already a thousand times better than Demon King Red. He is NOT Demon King Red, and thanks to his own tireless efforts, he never will be! All he has to do is not give up that hope to make this better.

Finally, this gets through to Red Son. The fillet around his head disappears, and he blinks a few times in confusion, coming out of the stupor the scroll had put him in… of course the two of them are still in the dungeon, which is extra confusing for Red Son, but MK just takes his hand and leads him back to his friends. They’re still fighting to hold off the scroll version of Demon King Red, and I think upon seeing TT Red Son out of his cell and back to normal, he probably morphs into a horrific, ink monster version of the king.. and let’s say this is the scene where Mei’s sword gets broken and they all get separated again, so things go back to the canon plot line :U

Gosh that was fun.. I do love fitting my AUs into the canon plot~

[soullessjack]

ok so carried on from this post theres a specific tag i wanna elaborate on which says ‘[jack] isn’t a pacifist he actually has a very complicated relationship with violence’ in relation to how he’s usually (mis)characterized by the fandom.

so first, Jack isn’t a pacifist. pacifism is a total opposition to all war and violence, and a belief that it is never justifiable for any reason or circumstance. He might be averse to violence as a first response or reaction, and he’s frequently shown to want to help the person before anything else—especially people he finds sympathetic or similar to himself (ie Mia Vallens, Sylvia)—but he’s not averse to it altogether.

Jack seems to really only be against violence when it’s used against innocent or undeserving people, including himself. Like in S13, he has no problem using his power to force an angel to stab themself with their blade or going to war with Michael and killing thousands of angels in his army for roughly 6-8 months (and we must remember, it was an effective genocide before he decided, completely out of the original plan, to kill Michael and made it a war) but he still has a total meltdown over accidentally killing an innocent security guard and almost strangling someone who did nothing wrong like he’d assumed. In Ouroboros he states that anyone who could hurt/kill an innocent person is a monster, even if they’re human, which is probably the clearest establishment of his moral code the show could offer.

I think Jack’s particular aversion to violence or even general aggression/anger is also caused by the fact that he, at three days old, was told by Sam that he would need to be kept from hurting other people while his powers were still largely uncontrollable (and therefore, still making him a threat and “evil” if he couldn’t do that). He’s also seen for himself what his power/his overreaction inadvertently causes for other people–like throwing Sheriff Barker into the vending machine (which he apologizes for later)—and is blatantly scared of it at first, so I think it makes a lot of sense that he prefers nonviolent behavior as an initial or default response. However, pacifism is still defined by the belief that no circumstance or reason whatsoever can justify an act of violence, which directly goes against how Jack personally feels about and uses it.

Going back to Ouroboros, he personally defines a “monster” as anyone who would willingly harm or enjoy harming someone who doesn’t deserve it, even if they aren’t actually a particular species of monster. And going back to S13, he has no problem murdering Michael’s army or even torturing Michael himself (which he specifically does because Michael “hurt his friends, hurt his family.” Ergo, Jack does believe in using violence, so long as it’s only used as a justified defense, and I think that is also a part of why him torturing Nick so horrifically is meant to land on us as Something Ostensibly Wrong. Did Nick deserve it? Yes. Mary isn’t even upset about him being killed; she just halfheartedly tells Jack “not like that.” Nick deserved it, but he is still barely a threat to someone like Jack (which everybody knew)—and because he isn’t a veritable threat, none of what Jack does to him can actually qualify as a “defense.”

It’s violence for the sake of violence, with a personal grudge for motivation, and while it’s shown a lot throughout SPN, it hits a lot harder coming from Jack specifically because he, again, is generally averse to [ab]using his power like that—even against other enemies. He believes in necessary and defensive violence and acts accordingly, which makes the completely unnecessary violence he uses against Nick more disturbing; it’s not about defending his loved ones or even stopping a nefarious plot anymore (he literally banishes Lucifer within seconds of getting there). It’s just about making someone suffer and enjoying it. In Absence we also get the vague implication about Jack’s particular fears and insecurities: he’s afraid that he isn’t really loved or wanted for himself, but rather that he’s valued for being “the muscle to take out enemies,”—that he’s nothing more to the Winchesters than a pet monster and easily discardable if he’s no longer useful to them.

On the flip side of that, he’s also canonically very happy to be wanted, needed and helpful to his family/friends—which is to say, again, he’s perfectly fine using violence as a justifiable defense that serves his family (which is also why he chooses to burn Nick to death after Sam indirectly wishes it on him, and why he’s happy to murder all of Dumah’s targets under the guise that it would make Sam and Dean happy). Once he realizes the truth and horror of his actions, however, he tells Dean that he is a monster, by his own definition. But how exactly is this complicated, you might ask? Well I’m glad you did, because I’m getting to it. Throughout his entire short-lived life, Jack has had to be painfully aware of the damage he can and does cause, and what it means for how he’s perceived and the ever present debate about his “true” nature.

I can’t find it now and probably won’t bother looking, but i had another post about how Jack inwardly perceives himself and wants to be perceived in return, particularly when he’s perceived as a threat. To summarize: because of his particular moral code, Jack inwardly knows he would never [want to] use his power against his family or friends, and is therefore not a threat to them, and therefore does not want to be perceived as one despite the danger he still poses with the potential alone. The eggshells that people walk around him are solely based on the fact that he has immense potential and capability to hurt them, all prevented by his simple continuous and impermanent choice to not hurt them.

The only thing standing between them and everything he’s ever done to their enemies is the fact that he considers them friends and has no reason to want to hurt them, and that’s exactly what Jack himself personally lives by. It’s the same blind trust that Sam and Dean have built with Cas; they know what he can do, and they know when he would or wouldn’t choose to do it. It’s a mutual understanding that “I know you can hurt me but I care about you enough to trust you not to do that,” and “I know I can hurt you but I care about you enough to not hurt you and Im glad you trust me to not do that.” I also mentioned it in the post that in Last Holiday, Jack doesn’t deny it when Mrs. Butters says that he’s insanely powerful; he does, however, deny her saying that Sam and Dean should be afraid of him, because “[he] would never hurt them.”

Insanely powerful? ✅

Potentially dangerous? ✅

A threat to be feared? ❌

(This is also what makes Mary’s death by Jack and Sam and Dean’s subsequent actions exceptionally tragic on both sides; their mutual trust is inadvertently, yet still effectively, broken. Jack has also effectively gone against his own morality by harming people he loves and people who don’t deserve it, and now in S15 is struggling with the loss of said trust and the need to earn it back).

That, my hypothetical audience member, is the complicated part. Having to find a middle ground between necessary, defensive, justifiable violence that his surrounding community would approve or appreciate, and the completely unnecessary abuse or misuse of power (ie violence) that would register him as an evil monster and/or a threat to be put down for the justifiable greater good. There’s also the additional middle ground between presenting and maintaining the image of himself as docile and non-threatening (the behavior of which is hugely infantilized by the fandom), while also still being able to defend others with the same violence that could easily lead to him being seen as a threat.

in conclusion (1): Jack is not a pacifist but he has an extremely complicated relationship with violence and the fluctuating justifications surrounding it which he must meet in order to continuously be perceived as safe and trustworthy in spite of his capabilities.

In conclusion (2): this is the truest of jack true forms:

thank you for coming to my yap session, don’t let the door hit you where the good lord split you on the way out 🫶

[minakoaiinos]

Lost my original post of this from the other day but I genuinely don't understand how Black Butler discourse ever shifted into the does Sebastian ~really~ like Ciel or is Ciel just dinner line of conversation that is pervasive as it is because Sebastian is the one that has absorbed his whole existence into Ciel's. Sebastian's face is what Ciel wants Sebastian's whole purpose is doing things for Ciel Sebastian's every hell of a butler yes my lord speech is about how he's Ciel's and Ciel is the one going around saying shit like whatever Sebastian is just my pawn 💅

[lesbiansanemi]

I’m gonna make it through the rest of Kyojuro’s backstory for this damn role swap AU even if it fucking kills me

[wow-thisismylifeiguess]

AU where Bruce isn’t Batman and the ‘Brucie’ persona is mostly real, but he’s also not an idiot and well aware that his kids are vigilantes

Bruce, “I just wish Dickie chose a better costume than that. I mean, look at him! He’s like a traffic light.”

Alfred, “I believe it’s a similar outfit to one his mother designed for him when he was younger.”

Bruce, “….nevermind, I take it back. He’s my beautiful baby boy and his outfit choices are definitely not atrocious.”

—

Bruce, “Jay…mind explaining the bruises on your wrists?”

Jason, “Oh…yunno how it is.”

Bruce, stares

Bruce, “If your partner is hurting you-”

Jason, “NO, it’s nothing like that! I promise, it was….consensual?”

Bruce, “Is that a question or statement, kiddo?”

Jason, “Statement.”

Jason, later, grumbling to Dick, “Sometimes I feel like he’s onto us…”

Dick, “No way. We cover our tracks super well. You just need to come up with better excuses for your bruises. I mean, BDSM? You?”

Bruce, upstairs, listening through a bug he planted, “Dumbasses.”

—

Bruce, “Why is the Drake child in my home?”

Jason, “He’s a friend.”

Dick, “I think you’re choking him a little, B.”

Bruce, who has Tim in a bear hug, “Am I choking you, buddy?”

Tim, muffled, “Not at all.”

—

Bruce, “TALIA! YOU’RE HERE! Why are you here.”

Damian, “Why am I here?”

Talia, “We have a son. Here. Take care of him.”

Damian, “I will not stay w a man like…like him.”

Bruce, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Damian, “You’re pathetically human and weak. I have nothing to learn here, Mother.”

Talia, “He’s beaten me before.”

Damian, “What?”

Dick, “What?”

Jason, “What?”

Bruce, smiling dreamily, “Such good memories.”

—

The kids find out he knew everything from the start when Dick has to pick up a drunk Bruce from a party. They arrive back at the Manor and Bruce won’t stop clinging to Dick.

Bruce, “Noooooooo! Don’t leave me! Don’t put on that ugly costume!”

Dick, “W-what?”

Bruce, sniffles, “It’s better than the Robin one, but come on, chum. You can do so much better than that.”

Dick, “You…know?”

Bruce, still crying, “Of course I knew! Good at covering your tracks my ass!”

Dick, “Do you know everything?”

Bruce, wiping his face because his vision is blurring and there’s two Dicks standing in front of him. Fuck, he’s dizzy, “Jason’s outfit is better. Tim’s is atrocious. But at least you gave Dami pants.”

Dick, “BRUCE!?”

Bruce, “Nooooo, don’t yell. My head hurts.”

—

Sitting in what Bruce has decided to call the Bat Cave because, helloooo, the bats?

Dick, "How long have you known?"

Bruce, "Oh, you know."

Jason, "From the beginning???"

Bruce, "I'm not stupid. Alfred, why does everyone think I'm stupid? My own kids think I'm stupid."

Tim, "Mr Wayne-"

Bruce, stares at him

Tim, "....Bruce. We don't think you're stupid. We just thought we were being...sneaky."

Damian, "Hmph. All of you lack training in stealth. Unlike me."

Bruce, "Dickie, how am I supposed to not know when I adopted a child acrobat and 'oh, look! a pint sized vigilante who can do flips off of buildings!'"

Jason, snorts, "Pint sized."

Bruce, "Jaylad, you started using guns a week after I signed you up for a firearms class."

Tim, tries very hard to hide a laugh

Bruce, "Timmy, your bedroom is covered in pictures of Gotham you'd only get from being on top of buildings."

Damian, scoffs

Bruce, "Dami, you trained as an assassin. Of fucking course you're a vigilante."

The kids, "....fuck. We suck at this."

Bruce, waves his hands in the air, "Don't worry about it. You're all bad at covering for yourselves, but me and Alfred handled it. Anyone who might've even got an inkling of who you might be have been...dealt with."

Jason, "Did you kill them?!"

Bruce, "What? No. Of course not. Right, Alfie?"

Alfred, "....of course not."

[jlheon]

𝓜𝐒. & 𝐌𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ 𝐏𝐒𝐇

(𝓹airing) — psh x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓯renemies to lovers ; fluff, profanity, & lots of kissing (𝔀ordcount) one-thousand five-hundred forty 𝓹eng's note. these pics. #iWantThat 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon

“you’re late,” sunghoon says in the most agitating voice possible as you walk through the classroom door.

“i wouldn’t be late if you did your job,” you huff, walking right up to the desk he sat at and dropping the bags of decorations you had picked up from the party supplies store.

“hey! i said i would pick those up!” he says annoyed, sifting through everything you brought.

“mrs. kim said we needed them by today! why the fuck were you just sitting around?” 

“geez, loosen up,” the boy gets up from his seat, his tall body looming over yours. “let’s just go decorate the gym.”

the two of you split up the bags of party supplies and headed towards the gym where the rest of the council and student volunteers were waiting. 

setting up for the fundraiser was easy until you and sunghoon started yelling at each other over which color streamers should be used over the doorway. 

jake had to drag you away by the shoulders to come to help him with the balloons. sunghoon felt a bitter taste when he saw jake with his arm around your shoulder but decided to ignore it. 

“hoon,” jungwon calls out. “we’re out of balloons!”

“that’s why i should have bought the decorations…” sunghoon mutters under his breath before walking up to where you and jake were giggling. 

sunghoon walks up behind you and places a hand on your shoulder. “we have to go back to the store.” he whispers in your ear. 

you freeze at his touch but nod and say goodbye to jake. he lets go of you and the two of you walk out the exit leading to the parking lot.

the two of you get into sunghoon’s car and he drives off to the mall. 

there’s an awkward silence between the both of you, which you can’t decide if you like bantering with him over it. there’s so much tension due to sunghoon’s lingering touch from earlier.

once inside the mall, you quietly walked side by side into the automatic doors. 

only a few feet from the party supplies stores you halt. spotting your ex-boyfriend and old friend seemingly on a date.

“sunghoon,” you whisper, tapping on his shoulder. “do you see what i see?”

he rolls his eyes at you finally breaking the silence but then looks up to see for himself. once he does that the two seem to have had the same idea, making eye contact with the other.

“oh shit they saw us,” he panics, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the photo booth you were conveniently standing next to.   

the photo booth is small. way too small. sunghoon is already sitting as you uncomfortably sit on the ledge with your legs peeking out from the curtain. 

“get up,” he instructs. 

“what?” you raise an eyebrow. “i’m not letting them see me again! especially not with you!”

“i meant like come here,” sunghoon grabs you and settles you on his lap, so the both of you fit into the small space.

“oh my god, what if they come over here!” you panic resting your hands on his shoulders. “this is bad! especially since i’m with you of all people-”

“with me?” sunghoon questions. 

“well, like when we were dating, he always thought you had a crush on me, which isn’t impossible! i had to keep reassuring him but he never believed me! like me and you are barely even friends-” you ramble, balling sunghoon’s shirt in your fists as you freak out. 

“woah, calm down,” he tells you, prying your hands from his uniform so you don’t wrinkle it. “it’s not like they’ll come to talk to us.”

just as the words left his mouth the sound of two sets of footsteps were picked up by your ears. you started to become overwhelmingly nervous. it was the first time seeing your ex-boyfriend since the split and the fact your childhood best friend was on a date with him. 

even if you drifted, shouldn’t she have some sense of girl code?

“you’re shaking,” sunghoon stares at you. 

“no i’m not!” you shake your head, your heartbeat being undeniably fast. “but like i haven’t had a date since him and that’s kind of sad for me-”

“i swear i saw her,” the familiar voice of your old friend says, sounding so close. “it could have been anyone though.”

“no, i saw her and that motherfucker,” your ex hisses. 

“wow, i’m ‘motherfucker’,” sunghoon whispers, rolling his eyes.

“if he made a move on her i swear.”

“hey, i have an idea,” he says in your ear. 

sunghoon reaches for his phone out of his pocket, holding you close as he leans over slightly to pay the machine for a photo. the screen activates after processing his card and he selects a random frame. 

the camera starts going and you sit confused as sunghoon starts posing. you can’t help but watch him. he always looks pretty but you must admit he knows how to pose. 

you peek over to the curtain to see two pairs of legs standing outside the photo booth. you can only assume it’s them. 

“you weren’t looking in any of them,” sunghoon recalls, pressing print on the screen. 

“oh, sorry,” you turn your attention back to him. 

“it’s fine, let's do another one,” he says nonchalantly as he pays for another photo strip.

this time sunghoon shifts in his spot, making it so that your face can be seen on the screen without having to turn you around in his lap.

you awkwardly copy sunghoon’s poses until by the second to last picture you hear him again.

“that fucker is in the photo booth,” the male voice outside says, seeing as he drops the photo strip back into where it fell from. 

“come closer,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“fine,” you lean onto him. “but don’t show my face too much. i’m not wearing concealer today.”

“you look just as pretty,” sunghoon leans closer so your lips barely brush the others. “maybe even prettier than usual.”

he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, gently stroking it before closing the gap. 

you hate to admit it but kissing sunghoon was everything you expected and more. you’ve caught yourself daydreaming about his lips on yours during one-on-one meetings in the conference room. when his hair is still damp from his after-shower practice and his face is still slightly flushed.

park sunghoon can make you mad, especially when he got secretary over you in freshman year. but you cannot deny that even when bitter about the council's choice you wanted to kiss that proud smile on his face. 

he made you mad when he stole your posters when you were running for secretary again the next year. but after he found you crying in the far stairwell he explained he only did that because he thinks you should run for president instead. sunghoon even pulled out another stack of flyers he made for you that he spent the whole night doing.

the sunghoon that got you both kicked out of a council meeting for arguing with each other is the same sunghoon with his lips molded perfectly against yours. 

the same boy that had you studying your ass off when class ranks came out, since he’s your only competition, is the same boy in front of you now with his lips locked on yours.

you start to feel dizzy by the decreased amount of air in your lungs by the minute but you can’t bring yourself to let go just yet. when you start seeing black specs dotting your vision you finally pull away to see a heavily panting sunghoon with a flushed face. 

“sorry,” sunghoon apologizes as he catches his breath.

your heart sinks. he only kissed you to distract you and probably so your ex will see the photos when they print.

“oh,” you fight the frown threatening to appear on your face. “it’s okay. he’s probably gone now.”

“i would have asked for your permission but you looked really stressed and i thought it would help you get your mind off your asshole ex.”

“thanks,” you say with a pout sunghoon finds adorable.

“you still seem sad,” he pokes at your sides, making you squirm in his hold. “maybe another kiss?”

“maybe,” you say shyly. 

sunghoon is out forty dollars by the time you and he are done kissing in the photo booth. he kept mindlessly swiping his card as his lips stayed on yours to prevent anyone from kicking you two out since you were there for a considerable amount of time.

you’re interrupted by sunghoon’s phone ringing profusely. 

“where are you two?” jungwon asks in a panic. “we need those balloons.”

“traffic,” sunghoon says as you plant a line of kisses down his neck, hands tangled in the hair at his nape.

“hurry up,” jungwon advises him.

you and sunghoon return to school an hour and a half after you originally left. with a bag of balloons and a stack of photo strips. most of them capturing purely just of you two making out.

when stepping foot in the gym and you go over to hand jungwon the balloons he so desperately needed. he quickly notices the matching hickeys forming on both your necks and how disheveled your uniforms and hair appear.

“traffic huh?” jungwon asks as his eyes flicker between both of you.

"lots," you nod as you walk away to help minjeong tie balloons.

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[lovemomhatepolice]

what brought back that smile? - lando norris

navigation taglist requests

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

warnings: kinda established relationship, fresh relationship, curious muppets!, English is my second language!

type: fluff, pure fluff

word count: 3,5k

summary: 5 times when someone asked the reason for Lando's sudden surge of happiness, but he preferred to keep his sweet secrets to himself

more content: f1 masterlist, lando norris masterlist, birthday one-shot

Since Lando Norris broke up with his then-girlfriend Luishina in 2022, no one has seen him this happy since. Of course, there have been moments where Lando walked around smiling - for example, when he won his first race in Miami or partying with friends in Ibiza. On more than one occasion, fans saw him joking and laughing until his stomach hurt with other drivers, but further down the line, everyone knew that the old Lando was gone. The one who laughed through love. The one foolishly in love, who proved it at every turn. Since his former relationship, Lando hasn't bonded with anyone - there were only rumors of fleeting romances or PR relationships. Until recently. In fact, no one knows when it took place. And since when Lando felt like a foolishly infatuated boy again.

THE FIRST TIME: Oscar Piastri When Oscar noticed changes in Lando's behavior, it was not much before the Japanese race. Or at least it wasn't so visible before. Norris was walking around smiling from ear to ear, constantly forgetting what he should do or who he should talk to about the changes in the car. No one paid much attention to it, and Oscar initially tried to ignore it as well, and winning in Miami a month later further eclipsed the spy's thoughts. After all, Lando had won his first race after so long in Formula One and so many times standing on the podium. The Mclaren drivers weren't the best of friends on the grid, but Oscar knew it wasn't because of winning the race. Or at least not just because of that.

Oscar was curious, even if he said very little about his life, the Lando case drilled him from the bottom up. And it started off small.

One morning 2 weeks after the Miami race, Lando showed up for a meeting with a goofy smile on his face. His attention was focused on everything during the strategy discussion, his mind was clearly elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” asked Oscar, poking his teammate under the table. As if awakened from his trance, Lando stopped tapping his fingers against his thigh and turned his head toward the Australian, smiling that silly grin again. “Yeah, all good, mate. “ he asked, tilting his head to the side. Oh, how foolishly charmed he was. “Why do you ask?”

Oscar shrugged. “I dunno. You just seem... happier these days. What brought back that smile?”

The question hung in the air for a long moment. Lando hung his head and laughed quietly under his breath, as if he was thinking whether he wanted to say it or rather not. And that was the option he chose, keeping his new infatuation to himself.

“Well, you know, buddy, I won a race recently. A chance to celebrate, huh?”

Oscar laughed, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else behind that smile, and that Lando was lying right in his eyes. Something - or someone - had brought back that trademark Lando smile. But Oscar decided to let it go for now.

Meanwhile, Lando was smiling to himself. Was it really that noticeable? Could everyone now know his sweet secret?

Such questions were cluttering his mind, but he tried not to worry about them. They were quickly superseded by thoughts of [Y.N]. It was wild how fast she had slipped into his life. What had started as a chance meeting turned into hours of effortless conversation, late-night phone calls, and a connection that had somehow brought him back to life. He hadn't felt this way since…. well, he couldn't remember the last time. And that was the point of it all.

MUPPETS: Carlos Sainz Jr Carlos had known Lando since 2019, so this year was their 5th anniversary of knowing each other. From the very beginning, the men, despite the age difference, got along great. And they soon became friends, too, supporting each other in worse and better moments. You could say they knew each other like the back of their hand, so while Lando was drifting away more and more each possible time during their conversations, the Spaniard had no more questions or thoughts. He was well aware that his younger friend's head was occupied by not something, but someone.

The sun beat down on the lush green of the golf course, the Spanish heat was unrelenting even in the early hours of the day. Carlos set up for his shot, squinting against the blinding glare, while Lando stood to the side, waiting his turn. It was a rare moment of calm before the chaos of the Spanish Grand Prix weekend, and Carlos was glad to be spending it with his best friend.

Until he saw Lando miss every time, which hadn't happened all that often before. Well, okay, Lando was worse than Carlos at golf, but to that extent?

And those constant glances at the phone, which he was so reluctant to leave in the golf cart.

“Ay, muppet. What the hell is wrong with you?” rang out Carlos' voice as he hit the ball.

Of course it flew cleanly where it was supposed to fly. But what's the pleasure of playing as your friend drills a hole in the grass with his club, his other hand constantly checking his phone screen?

"Huh?" Lando snapped out of his trance. This had been happening to him more and more often lately, nay, it had been happening to him for more than three months now.

“You’ve been smiling like an idiot all day,” Carlos teased, though his tone was softer, more curious than mocking. “Actually, you’ve been like this for weeks like not months now. So, tell me—who is she?”

Lando’s cheeks flushed pink, and he quickly turned his attention to the golf ball at his feet, fiddling with his club. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, but there was a grin he couldn’t quite suppress. And in fact, I don't think he wanted to get rid of it.

Carlos laughed, poking Lando playfully on the shoulder. “Come on, cabrón. I know you too well and it's been a long time since you've been this happy. So who's the lucky girl? Who brought back that smile?”

Lando sighed under his breath - he knew he could trust Carlos, he was his best friend. He just liked the fact that he and [Y.N] were in a closed bubble of happiness that they had made for themselves in three months. Of course it was still fresh and nothing was certain yet, but Lando gave in. To whom as to whom, but to Carlos he already had to tell. It was drilling him from the inside.

“It's … nothing serious,” Lando finally said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. “It's just… I'm meeting someone. I'm trying to keep it discreet.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Dude, I've known you long enough to know when you're serious about someone,” he said, and his voice became softer. “And if she makes you smile like that, I'd say it's more than a casual.”

Lando bit his lip, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break through. The truth was that [Y.N] had quickly become the best part of his days.

“Maybe,” he admitted, finally meeting Carlos' gaze. “But for now it's just … between us, sure?

Carlos clapped Lando on the back, a broad grin on his face. “I’m happy for you, hermano. And don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone. But I have to say, it’s good to see you like this again.”

They both laughed and Lando already knew he was lost. Together, with Carlos, were like the biggest gossips, so he quickly unlocked his phone, even jumping up and down with happiness, wanting to show Carlos some pictures of them together. What luck befell him when he found out that [Y.N] also loves to take pictures.

Carlos leaned closer, curious. Lando pulled out a photo from a few weeks ago - from his once-in-a-lifetime date with [Y.N]. They were sitting on a blanket in a meadow somewhere by the water, the golden sunset casting a warm glow over them. The girl's head was tilted toward him and resting on his shoulder, her eyes were crinkling with laughter, and Lando looked happier than Carlos had seen him in a long time. His hand was on the girl's shoulders, visibly embracing her closer to him.

“I want her to be the one, you know?” muttered Lando, smiling even wider when he saw the notification from her.

LUCKY CHARM: Lando's parents Lando was able to hide his fresh relationship from his friends, from his fans and from the rest of the world. But he definitely couldn't hide it from his parents and siblings. Not even a month of knowing [Y.N] had passed when he vividly talked about how much he had fallen in love and how he hoped she was the one and last woman in his life. His loved ones were damn happy to finally see the most sincere smile of his entire life on the face of this little Lando Norris.

The air around Silverstone was charged with electricity, and the energy of the home crowd gave Lando joy like no other race on the calendar. Walking through the bustling paddock, he felt lighter than he had in years. It wasn't just the thrill of racing on his own track - it was the realization that somewhere among the sea of faces there was [Y.N], watching him.

Fortunately, he managed to smuggle her into a private hospitality suite, away from prying cameras, journalists and fans. They had been seeing each other for almost four months, in truth they were not a couple, but everything was going for it. Lando wasn't the only one who was foolishly infatuated with the relationship; the girl, like him, walked around with her head in the clouds, as her university colleagues or friends seemed to notice more than once. But in her case it was easier to hide, after all, she didn't have a million eyes on her like Lando did.

When Lando entered his private area in the Mclaren garage, he immediately noticed his parents, sisters and brother, who were smiling at him from ear to ear. The entire Norris family had a close relationship with each other, so of course everyone knew about Lando's new sweetheart, whom he had been dating with for four months.

“And there's our smiling boy!” laughed Lando's mother, hugging her son tightly. The driver laughed under his breath, hugging his family one by one, fortunately in a place where the eyes of others did not reach and they could have a moment of peace. “I'm glad you're all here,” Lando said, stroking his younger sister Flo's hair.

“How could we not be here?” asked Oliver, Lando's brother, laughing under his breath.

The atmosphere was great, however, everyone knew this question would come sooner than perhaps it should?

“Well, you know what, tell us where she is,” said Lando's dad, poking him lightly on the shoulder. “You're laughing so hard, I won't believe she's not here.”

“Yes! Show us finally what brought back that smile,” said his mom, echoing her husband.

Lando felt his face heat up, but he couldn’t keep the grin from spreading. “You two don’t miss a thing, do you?” he said, shaking his head.

“We just want to meet her,” his mum said softly, eyes twinkling with warmth. “We’ve heard so much about her, and if she’s the reason our son’s been so happy lately, we’d love to say hello.”

After a moment's thought, Lando nodded. “All right. I'll bring her - but behave,” he said with nervous but excited energy.

Lando slipped stealthily out of the garage and headed for his room, which only he and a few Mclaren people had access to. Although it was a rather hidden place, [Y.N] did not complain. She could wait out the time until the race in peace, just as she could go out to Mclaren's garage and watch it there. Lando made her as comfortable as possible.

When the girl saw him, she raised her eyes and smiled warmly in his direction. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, everything is fine,” he assured her, taking her hand in his. At the same time, he forced her to get up from the soft couch. “But… there is someone who wants to meet you. My family is even dying to meet the woman of my heart.”

The girl took a deep breath and smiled. “I'd love to meet them.”

Holding hands, they returned to the hospitality. When they went inside, Lando's mother sighed quietly and immediately crossed the room to hug [Y.N]. “Oh, how nice to finally meet you,” she said, and her voice was filled with sincere warmth.

“She's beautiful,” Cisca whispered, looking at Lando. The boy only whispered a quiet “I know” and laughed under his breath.

Immediately the whole family greeted the girl, hugging her tightly and bestowing kind words on her, including telling her how happy they were that she was making Lando so happy again. And everything was somehow better. His parents and siblings were talking to the girl he'd had in his heart for several months, and everything was going smoothly. Lando was just standing off to the side, keeping his hand on her back and giving her a little kiss to make her feel better. But he was probably the most stressed one there.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-start jitters begin to overwhelm him. But today he felt a little better than usual.

“I have to go now,” he said reluctantly, turning to face the girl. His parents moved away to give them a moment of privacy.

“You can do it, you're amazing on the track,” she purred, placing her hands on his shoulders and gently correcting his suit.

Lando merely smiled in her direction and without hesitation placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a quick but tender kiss. This was not how they had imagined their first kiss, but in that moment it was their best memory and the time this kiss could have happened. Lando pulled away from [Y.N], their eyes met and they both smiled at each other, giggling under their breath.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-race jitters starting to creep in.

“I’ve got to go,” he said reluctantly, turning to her. His parents stepped back to give them a moment of privacy.

“Good luck out there,” she whispered, her eyes shining with pride. “You’re going to do amazing.”

Lando smiled, but there was a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “I hope so. This one’s important,” he said softly.

[Y.N] reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You’ve got this, Lando. I believe in you.”

Without thinking, Lando leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a swift, impulsive kiss. It wasn’t planned, but in that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He pulled back, their eyes locking, and they both smiled.

“For good luck,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

And even if he came in third place after the race, it didn't bother him much. He won something better and it was an amazing woman.

HI IBIZA: Max Fewtrell stream Max knew Lando since they were kids. Both could not imagine life without the other person, they were inseparable. Even if it didn't work out for them to be Formula One drivers by their side, it didn't change anything. They were always side by side, and as soon as Max heard about Lando's new crush, he knew this was the one. Norris had never talked so seriously and eagerly about any girl before. And Max liked to tease him about it. But at the same time, he was damn happy.

The warm glow of sunset in Ibiza paints everything with a golden sheen. Lando Norris, Max Fewtrell and their group of friends held a casual live stream at their bungalow, which they rented for the whole group of friends. This stream was definitely different from their typical ones, where they played games on two different sides of the screen, but that was good too.

Everyone was more muted than at times when they were playing and shouting at each other. However, the biggest difference could be felt in Lando. He was more subdued, gently but sincerely smiling, and his eyes shone with such happiness that you could envy him.

The stream had been going on for about an hour, and the fans didn't run out of questions. They were inundated with the same questions as always, but today they had more opportunity to answer them because they weren't stressed by the background game. Lando kept getting questions about the Championship, the races, the competition and some side silliness. Until Max caught one significant comment among thousands of others. And of course he had to ask them.

Fan comment: "Lando, what brought back that smile? It's been a long time since we've seen you so happy, and of course that's great, but what's your secret?"

Max looks at Lando with a smile and winks. "Good question," he says, leaning back in his chair. "So, man, what's been making you so happy lately?"

"Oh, you know. Life has been better lately. Beautiful weather, sunshine, we have a beach house. The break from racing is good for me too, my head isn't as busy," Lando replied, playing with his hair and smiling under his breath.

Oh how he lied, how he lied to keep his bubble of happiness calm even longer.

"Really? Gee, I guess I agree with that comment, you're somehow happier lately," said Max, glancing at Lando with a teasing look. He remembered well how Lando had talked down his relationship on the stream, but he wasn't going to do the same to him. "Or maybe you've found a hobby other than Formula One?"

"Maybe," he laughed lightly under his breath, feeling the warmth inside his body. "I guess I just got old and I'm not that rebellious 20-year-old anymore "

"Oh, it's definitely old age, you name it" Max laughed and went back to looking for interesting comments, leaving the matter of Lando's happiness. He wanted his friend to still have peace from prying eyes.

After the stream was over, everyone went their separate ways. Some decided to have a bonfire, but Lando felt he needed the solitude. He walked out to the beach, which they had right outside the gate of their cottage, and felt the cooler evening wind brush his face. He smiled under his breath when he saw [Y.N] by the shore. It wasn't a smile that the cameras could see; he reserved this one for her alone.

The girl was wearing a white loose dress that swayed gently in the wind, and her hair was tousled by the wind. It wasn't a moment before she heard him and gently turned toward him, giving him a beautiful smile. "Have you finished the stream yet?"

"It's been a while now," Lando stepped closer, feeling the sand under his feet surround him pleasantly. "I had to get away from the chaos. And the fans are getting curious, they asked what secret I have"

Girl raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Secret? What secret?"

Lando smiles mischievously and walks closer. "That I'm the happiest I've been in years." - he says in a quiet but sincere voice.

[Y.N] smiles, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Without another word, she steps into his arms, and Lando doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close. They stand there for a moment, just the two of them, the sound of the waves crashing in the background. Lando takes a deep breath and places a kiss on her hair, pulling her even closer to him. It was the peace he had needed for a long time

FIRST CHRISMTAS: [Y.N] Lando and [Y.N] had been together for almost half a year. Their lives were filled with happiness that neither of them had ever experienced before. From the first day, they understood each other like two peas in a pod, and that's how it stayed. That's why she was surprised by how happy Lando was.

The couple in love are together in the kitchen, with the countertop in front of them strewn with flour and other ingredients for making gingerbread cookies. [Y.N] is wearing one of Lando's voluminous sweaters and humming a Christmas carol, pacing next to the countertop. Lando, on the other hand, dressed in his loose Mclaren T-shirt and Christmas pajama pants, is trying to roll out the dough, but it's not going well. His hands are covered in flour and the dough keeps sticking to the rolling pin. Well, it's easier to say that his whole body is covered in flour.

"Do you need help, chef?" - asks [Y.N], leaning against the countertop and looking at him with an amused smile.

Lando raises his gaze, feigning impatience. "It's harder than it looks, sure?" - He laughs, combing his flour-dusted hair with his hand. "I thought baking was supposed to be easy."

"It's easy, you just have some manual problems," the girl laughs and moves to his side, gently taking the rolling pin from his hands. "Here, let me," she says, guiding him to the side. Their fingers brush as she takes over, a soft, tender moment.

"Sure, my baking queen," the boy laughs, looking at her with adoration.

"You could do the icing." the girl says, pointing to the already made gingerbread cookies.

Lando's eyes brighten, his smile widening. "Icing, huh? That's sounds better." He grabs a piping bag and starts filling it, but as he attempts to pipe a simple design, it all goes horribly wrong.

“Lando!” she laughs, her eyes crinkling with amusement. The icing has spilled everywhere.

He looks down at his hands, dripping with icing. “Well, that’s not what I had in mind…” He shrugs sheepishly.

“You’re adorable when you try, you know that?” She leans in and wipes a bit of icing from his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin.

“And you’re just adorable,” he says, moving closer to her.

Lando’s hands quickly find their place on her waist, and his face is twisted into a genuine big smile. They both giggle, putting the matter of the cookies aside.

“What brought that smile again, huh?” the girl asks, touching his lips, which is also dirty with icing.

“You,” he says simply, and his voice carries a quiet sincerity that makes her heart skip a beat. "It was always you"

For a moment, they both stand in silence, the hum of the Christmas music in the background, the quiet crackling of the small fire in the corner of the livingroom adding to the coziness of the apartment. It’s a peaceful stillness, the kind that only exists between two people who’ve found something real.

A/N: i know it's no nut november and this should be smut but i swear when i had a vision i had to write this. i hope you like it because i won't lie, i fucking love it!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[slut4nicholas]

𝙊𝙃, 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄 | 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀

a/n: i haven't started the show yet, so I'm not familiar with his character in this show. please forgive my cluelessness during this fic.

summary: the reader goes to the church to confess to the priest that she recently sinned. however, the father decides to have some fun of his own.

warnings: mention of religion, 18+, missionary, loss of virginity, oral(fem & m receiving) fingering, nipple play, praise kink, pet names like doll,sweetheart,baby, mentions of anal, spanking, degrading, corruption kink, almost caught

˖⋆࿐໋

growing up in a religious household, i have developed a deep appreciation for my catholic roots. whenever I feel overwhelmed by sadness, anger, or depression, I find solace in the church.

today i couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt. i found myself hanging out with a boy, and things got a bit physical. even though we didn't go too far, i couldn't help but feel ashamed. i had promised to wait until marriage, but these uncontrollable desires keep creeping up. i've decided to go to the church to talk to the father about my recent activities and confess my sins.

as i made my way to the church, i felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. i'm meeting with father charlie, a young and attractive man who’s also the priest at the church, which is not something you typically expect in the church. i haven't had a chance to speak with him one-on-one yet, so im feeling a bit apprehensive about what our conversation will entail.

i open the big doors to the church to see it completely empty just to find charlie sitting down on one the church benches.

“hello there” he calls out.

"father, there's something weighing heavily on my heart that I need to share with you," i said as I hurried to sit next to him.

i can feel that irritating uneasy sensation in my stomach. I didn't even give him a proper greeting. the guilt was so overwhelming that it made me stumble over my words.

"what is it y/n?" he turns all of his attention towards me, his big brown eyes digging into mine, as if anticipating something significant.

“i don’t know who to talk to, i can’t talk to my parents about this especially my own father. i’ve been feeling really guil-“

he interrupted me with a gentle smile and placed his hand on my shoulder, assuring me that everything would be okay and letting me know that he was a safe person to talk to.

“father, i need to confess something. i kissed a boy, and he kissed me back. he started to touch me, but i stopped him. i made a promise to the lord, and i feel terrible for breaking it”

as the tears welled up in my eyes, i instinctively dropped my face into my hands, seeking refuge from the overwhelming emotions.

"hey, it's going to be okay," charlie said in a gentle, caring tone as he stroked my hair, trying to comfort me.

“now tell me, did you guys fuck?”

as those words reached my ears, i couldn't help but look up at him, shaking my head as the tears continued to fall.

oh no, i hope he's not going to make me feel even worse.

“no father i swear-“

"shh, no swearing in the church," he said, raising his finger to his lips with a smirk. the irony wasn't lost on him, considering he had just dropped the f-bomb.

it was so quiet for a whole minute, and I started feeling really awkward. i had come all this way hoping for some advice or comfort, but it seemed like he just didn't care.

as I stood up, charlie grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit back down. “i didn't say you could leave. where do you think you're going?”

he replied coldly, smirking, “always so forgiving. it's kind of pathetic”

i stared at him, utterly perplexed, not really sure what he was talking about.

“father, isn't forgiveness what the church is all about?”

“sometimes, but in this case, i really want you to show me how sorry you are. otherwise, you're just going to keep committing the same sin over and over again. you don't want that, right? you don't want your parents to find out how desperate their innocent little girl has become, do you?"

i couldn't believe what i was hearing from charlie. i never expected him to act this way, let alone say things like this. i was at a loss for words and didn't know how to react. all i could do was nod in agreement. the last thing i wanted was for my parents to find out.

“father, i think i should go”

"why are you suddenly so shy, doll?" his hand on my chin made me tilt my head to stare at him.

"you don't think i notice how you look at me during mass when I'm speaking on the stand? you've become so needy that you sometimes cross your legs to stop yourself from feeling those emotions you want to avoid so badly," he says while caressing my cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on my bottom lip.

"i know you think of me taking you to the point where you can't even think straight, cum dripping out of you while i use you for my pleasure. you don't think i notice that? the way you avoid eye contact with me”

“i don’t know what your talking about father”

charlie’s hand rested lightly on my thigh, sending a spark of electricity coursing through my body. as his fingers inched toward the top of my skirt, pushing the fabric up just a little, my breath caught in my throat. each slow movement seemed to stretch time, heightening my senses and igniting a thrilling tension i couldn't ignore.

it felt deceptively wrong—the kind of reckless abandon that sent a shiver down my spine—but the anticipation was intoxicating, and I craved more. my mind raced, caught between instinct and hesitation, as the warmth of his touch settled into a deep hunger, one i found increasingly impossible to resist.

i glanced up, searching his eyes for a sign, a cue that this was more than just a fleeting moment. we held a playful challenge, a promise of the passion we both knew was simmering beneath the surface. my heart raced with excitement and fear, the boundaries of right and wrong blurring into a sweet confusion. with every breath, i felt the world around us fade away, lost to the undeniable chemistry pulsing in the air. i didn’t want to stop it; I wanted to let go completely and dive headfirst into whatever was coming next.

“do you want this as much as I want this?" charlie's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, causing my heart to race in an unholy rhythm. i felt his gaze resettle upon me, a weight both thrilling and terrifying. my mind was a jumble, each beat vying for clarity as i struggled to focus on anything but him.

his eyes—the deep pools of mischief and longing—held me captive, swaying me like a fragile leaf in a rising storm. the blueprint of his desires flickered behind those intense brown eyes, and my cheeks burned with a shameful blush. I could hear the hymns of the service fade into background noise, a distant echo that paled against the ferocity of this moment.

what was wrong with me? i shouldn’t be feeling this way, not here—certainly not in a house of worship. my skirt brushed against my legs, reminding me of the innocence i used to wear like armor, now discarded in the face of this ravenous yearning. charlie wanted me. craved me. it was a dangerous temptation that had taken root within me, whispering sweet nothings that urged me to give in.

the candlelit corners of the church bathed in shadows, the lure was overwhelming. each passing week at mass had been an exercise in restraint, a careful balancing act over a precipice of emotion. seeing him near the altar in his crisp shirt—as though god himself had stitched him together purely for me—seemed more sublimely wrong every time.

as his eyes swept over me, i wondered if he could sense the tension glittering between us, thick and electrifying like charged air before a storm. j licked my lips, torn between the sanctity of the aisle and the allure of his promise. "I need you, doll. I can't deny it anymore," he murmured like a sin freshly minted from temptation's forge.

i felt a tumultuous wave of conflicting emotions surging within me. the whispered prayers seemed empty as an overwhelming desire ignited like an uncontrollable inferno. "father” i gasped, but the air escaped me, filled with forbidden possibilities. despite everything, all i could focus on were his lips drawing nearer to mine, as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the intense magnetism between us.

in that sacred moment, beneath the flickering lights, surrounded by silence begging to be heard, we hovered on the brink of something vast and insatiable. would we give in? would grace curdle into passion? ignoring the whisper of consequence felt like my true struggle—should we tiptoe across this brittle line, or confess that hunger has only one unyielding answer? together.

as I processed what was happening, a surge of warmth enveloped me, and i found myself surrendering to the moment. his lips danced across the sensitive skin of my neck, light as a whisper but charging the air with electricity. a small moan escaped my lips, betraying the whirlwind of emotions stirring within me. i could feel his smirk, a secret shared just between us, brushing against my skin, simultaneously teasing and thrilling.

his hand roamed over my thigh, a firm yet gentle grip that sent a shiver cascading through my body. "that's it, such a good girl for me," he purred, his voice a low whisper that thrummed like a melody in my ears, both lustful and tender. each word dripped with a promise, igniting the fire kindling deep within me, blurring the boundaries between desire and surrender.

lost in this intoxicating closeness, i reveled in the sensations; the world beyond shifted and faded, leaving only his teasing caresses and the seductive intimacy that enveloped us—a balance of power and vulnerability, inviting me to cross the threshold into unknown territory.

"father, i really don’t think we should be doing this here. It just doesn’t feel right. what if we get caught?" i watched as charlie sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration, clearly torn between desire and caution.

"you’re right," he replied, his voice low and raspy, "but it’s late, and I don’t think anyone’s going to wander into the church at this hour. just relax, sweetheart."

i hesitated for a moment, then nodded, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down my spine. i reached out, intertwining my fingers with his, bringing his hand to my lips and sucking gently on his long fingers. his eyes locked onto mine, filled with a primal hunger that made my heart race. i could see it in his expression—the desperate need to claim me, to tear away any barrier between us.

the air was thick with anticipation, and i could almost feel the weight of his longing as he shifted closer, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. the dim light from the stained glass windows cast a soft glow around us, amplifying the intensity of the moment. i could sense the tension building, a thrilling mix of danger and desire, as he leaned in, caught in the magnetic pull that seemed to draw us together like moths to a flame.

we were on the edge of something wild and reckless, and in that sacred space, everything felt possible.

charlie withdrew his fingers, his intention clear as he replaced them with his warm, teasing tongue. it slipped into my mouth, exploring with a fervor that sent electric shivers through my entire body. he held my neck gently yet possessively, urging me closer, deeper, igniting a fire that burned between us.

i kissed him back with equal intensity, a thrilling battle for dominance that left us both breathless. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and urgency that made my heart race. every flick of his tongue ignited a wave of pleasure, pooling low in my belly and making it almost impossible to think straight.

the heat of the moment consumed me; i could feel my body responding instinctively to his every move. the sweet tension built inside me, and i knew i needed him—needed to feel him against me, to drown in that wild connection we shared. my panties were already soaked, a testament to the overwhelming desire coursing through my veins.

charlie pushes my panties to the side allowing his already wet fingers from my saliva to dance around my clothed heat growling like a predator hungry for its prey “let me show you how a real man is supposed to make you feel darling, those little boys wouldn’t know how to handle something so precious like you. i can make you feel so good you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days”

as he pumps his fingers in out of me the sweet sounds filling up the quiet church was enough for the both of us to go crazy “more father please” he smirked at my neediness removing his fingers out of me putting them up to mouth to signaling me to suck the sweet juices off of his fingers then going back in for a quick rub of my clit

charlie stood up getting ready to unbuckle his pants but before he could even do that a voice filled up the quiet room which caused me to jump and act quick closing my legs and hiding my exposed area “father charlie i’ve been looking everywhere for you” an older lady shouts from across the room as she appears to be in desperate need of his help

he sighed and i took that as my sign to leave before we both do something we might regret later, charlie keeps his gaze on me the entire time “hi, ill be with you in a moment” he spoke up the lady stops in her tracks wondering what a young woman was doing here at almost midnight with the priest of the church she was curious but nothing crossed her mind as she was desperate to talk to the priest

charlie followed me out of the church closing the door behind us “this isn’t over sweetheart” he placed a kiss on my forehead as he walked back into the church.

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a/n: omggg i hope you guys like this!! i’ve spent almost a day and a half working on this just for you all especially the person who requested this, i will be making this into a little series since it was getting pretty long! anyways i really hope you guys enjoyed this, remember feel free to request anything!

[clockwayswrites]

Birds in their nest Part 18

masterpost

Danny woke relaxed. From his brow to the tips of his toes he was relaxed. Which was the first sign something was off. Relaxed was then followed swiftly by confused and wary. He stayed carefully still and silent as he took the space around him in.

The room was darker than his, heavier somehow in that darkness. It was quieter too. There was no noise of the city seeping through the annoyingly thin windows that looked out over the streets of Gotham. He was in a bed, though, and a very comfortable one at that.

(He forcefully pushed back the part of his mind that was still a scared boy worried about being captured and vivisected or cloned again or something else horrible.)

Slowly, Danny opened his eyes. The bed was more than comfortable, it was impressively ornate dark wood that almost faded into the dark blue walls. Somehow even the walls felt expensive. Danny figure it must be the wood detailing that ran around the room.

As he sat up up just slightly, everything clicked into place: the ballet, Bruce insisting on giving Danny a ride, and not remember the end of the ride. He must be at Wayne Manor. He must have fallen asleep in the limo. It was beyond mortifying. They Waynes had just been doing him a favor out of some sense of charity or pity and he’d ended up being a burden.

Danny collapsed back into the bed and covered his face with a groan. This wasn’t even some one night stand where he could slip out quietly or something; he had to see them. He had to say thank you and sorry and please don’t fire me for being weird. Gods, why couldn’t he just be normal for one night?

Even without wings or turning into a giant, eldritch bird he was a mess, Danny thought, slightly hysterically. Well, he might as well get up and face the music so that he could call a ride leave.

If only getting up wasn’t such a problem. Now that he was moving, Danny felt the ache of the missed doses of medication in every thread of muscle. He didn’t even have anything to take, not having one of his usual bags with him. Slowly, Danny got his feet under him and got himself standing. He breathed through the shaking muscles.

The change of clothing was a welcome sight. The suit (that he was totally going to have to get dry cleaned now) felt more than a little stale after sleeping in it. The provided leisure were was much more comfortable and, somehow as he pulled on the over sized hoodie, familiar feeling.

As he stepped out into the quiet hallways, Danny have wondered if he could make a break for it, pain and all.

“Good to see you awake, sir.”

Danny jolted so hard at the sudden voice he might have pulled something.

The stately elderly man that approached looked less than sympathetic. “My apologies, sir. If you will hand me your suit, I will see it dry cleaned and send to your office.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine, I’ve been enough trouble already—”

“I insist.”

Meekly, Danny handed over the suit after he had fumbled out his phone and watch from the pile. The other man took it with far more grace.

“If you will follow me, sir, I will direct you too breakfast on the way.”

“Right. Thank you Mr…?”

“Pennyworth, sir,” Mr. Pennyworth said and started off.

Danny scrambled after him and tried not to hobble too much even though he could feel his left knee threatening to buckle with every step. It was just a twinge. He would get home (after breakfast apparently) and take his medication and he’d be fine.

He’d be slowly turning into something eldritch and unknowable, but he’d be fine.

When Danny got to the able, it was already rather full though not everyone seemed that awake.

“They’re not morning people,” Duke explained with a sunny smile when he spotted Danny.

“Hn.” Bruce agreed articulately.

Danny smiled despite his current embarrassment. “I can see that, but I don’t think that I can talk considering last night. I am so sorry that I fell asleep in the car like that. I swear I don’t normally just crash like that. You should have just woken me up so that I wouldn’t be—”

“Danny,” Bruce interrupted. His voice was a low, sleepy rumble. Danny felt himself blush. “It’s no burden on us. You obviously needed the rest since you didn’t even wake once. I just hope that we didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while,” Danny admitted. “But I really don’t want to be any trouble to—”

This time it was Cass cutting Danny, off as she swept into the room and pressed a quick kiss to Danny’s cheek, then Bruce’s, and a few of her siblings as she made her way to a seat.

“Sit. Eat,” Cass signed and motioned to a seat next to Bruce.

Danny felt it best to give in and do as he was told. This family was just very confusing.

[sugudoe]

᭡ ★ ׁ ׅ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐒 ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ᝰ gojo satoru used to be a lonely child, that was until you started to be there for him — to hear his complains, to run away from the clan for a few hours, and to decorate his hair with flowers. you are his most sacred person, he is your most loved one.

ᡴꪫ a/n: bring me back my man, gege!!! this was inspired by the confirmation he would sneak away from home and this, he would’ve been a mama’s boy. @emilyywhyy. using new tag, masterlist.

ᡴꪫ c/w: child!gojo, teen!gojo \\ child!reader, teen!reader \\ fluff and angst \\ bittersweet ending, but happy. \\ gender neutral!reader \\ 1.3k words.

They say the day Gojo Satoru was born, the balance of the world shifted. Everyone would stare at him with reverence, as if he was a a saint and the gift from the gods, when in fact he was a martyr, born to suffer. For you, though, he was just a boy — just your Satoru.

You had been by his side for a long time, being born in a world where his presence was constant, just a couple months older than you. You father was an experienced teacher for the clan, and your mother their most loyal historian. Both of them had been tasked with helping Gojo to understand his powers and control it, and you, always so curious, stayed by their side. Quietly and cautious, staring at him.

White hair, blue eyes, stoic face and strange ways. Sometimes, too rude, others, too playful. Inside of him there were two personalities in constant crash, one that longed to be just a child and other that was meant to be the strongest.

He envied you for many reasons. You could play with the other children, your tasks seemed less rough than his, and… Oh, he envied how loved you were by your parents. When you would accompany him in one of his classes, arriving in your messy hair and dirty kimono for playing too much, eyes filled with happiness and your parents would beam at you, they lovely child.

Would they have sold you, had you been the strongest of your family? Or would they have fought? How much money, status and power would it take for any good person in this world to be corrupted?

Satoru didn’t want to know the answer to those questions, he likes you and your parents that way — warm hugs and sweet kisses. Never would Satoru trade places with you, for him, you were so pure to deal with what he has been going through.

You were the one to approach him first, finding him hiding between the trees that surrounded the clan’s houses, tears guarded by his hands, and he was betrayed by his trembling shoulders.

“Why are you crying?” You stepped closer very slowly, as if approaching a scared animal.

“I want to go home.” Satoru answers, making your small child mind wander what he meant. Isn’t this the Gojo’s lands? “I want my mommy.”

Oh.

Even naive as you were, you understood right away. You have seen her before, one of the most beautiful woman you have ever met. Quiet, walking around the gardens, her pale skin in contrast with the roses, but everything about her and around seems dull. Maybe it’s the lack of her child that makes her like this. No money in the world could replace it, and she was only a woman in a world controlled by men. Her wishes and demands wouldn’t be heard, never.

“Sometimes, they let us see each other.” You are putting daffodils on Satoru’s hair when he starts talking again. “She pretends she is fine, and tells me how proud she is. Her hugs are longer each time, and the meetings are less as well.”

“And how about your dad?” You ask, when he is the one decorating your hair with trembling fingers.

“He…” Satoru sighs. “He is just there. Tells me to listen to the maesters, to your father. That one day I’ll make everyone proud, and be the strongest.”

“I’m proud of you.” You feel the need to say it, so you do. And maybe, it’s what you had to do, Satoru smiles slightly, before raising to his feet and grabbing you with him. He starts to run in a direction you have never been before. “Where are we going?”

“Trust me.” You do. That moment and every moment forward, you would trust Gojo.

You both arrived in the city after an hour of walking and running, babbling about your favorites everything.

His favorite animal is a dog, but he can’t have one. His favorite food is taiyaki, but he never tasted it. And, his favorite color, he stops to think and stare at you for a while, before going with the one you think looks exactly as your eyes. You tell him yours, and that you both can fix all his curiosities, right now.

With your little purses, coins clicking inside as you run through the streets, buying whatever he needs and has never experienced before, Satoru learns that he doesn’t like taiyaki, rather he finds his favorite being Kikufuku.

Sharing a strawberry ice cream, Gojo halts his movements, and you sense something coming from him — it’s what makes him being called the stronger one, the so long awaited hero. Like gravity has gone away, and the sky is falling on top of you, ready to crush everything.

“They are watching us. Let’s go home.” Had he been alone, that wouldn’t bother him, but you were still innocent, not yet developed your technique.

So, with daffodils still in your heads, you both return home to disapproving looks and a stomach filled with sugar.

Inside the groves, a tradition was born. If the weight of the world became too much to bear, Satoru would find you there. You always knew when he needed you the most, like a calling only you could sense. It burned in your chest until you reached him, and in front of Gojo, you would pick flowers and decorate his wild hair with it, or teach him how to make flower crowns or… rings.

“I wish I could burn this whole place to the ground.” He says once, while admiring the petals on your finger, he proudly made. Anger had been his friend for a while now, when he learned he would go to Jujutsu tech. He was happy and scared, and already missing you. “Except you, of course, and your parents, and my mom and… and this woods. This is ours, right?”

“Yes, ‘Toru. This is ours.” You hold his cold face with your other hand, while smiling calmly. “It will always be ours.” Closing the gap, you rest your head on his. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’m not going away forever. It feels like it, but I’ll be back, every weekend, I promise. And… I could exchange to the Kyoto school.”

“No, Satoru. You need freedom.”

“I need you as well.” He counterparts. “I’ll never be free from the expectations of the world, we could, at least, be stuck together.” He is nearly crying again.

“They won’t accept me, my cursed technique is nothing too special.” You sigh, falling in the grass, and he goes behind.

“I disagree. You will see, they will come begging for you, and you will tell them to go fu…” You raise your hands to his mouth, giggling as if you were seven, and not a nearly fifteen years old girl. “I’ll make them come for you, and if they don’t, I will. I’ll always come to you, and our daffodils.”

And indeed, he does. He comes for you months later, accompanied by two other kids and round sunglasses you’ve never seen before. Gojo Satoru comes for you, to grab your hands, pack your clothes, kiss his mothers cheeks knowing that won’t ever happen again, even if he wants so much.

She tells she is proud of him, his father tell him he is nearly there. Gojo wonders what would be enough to be enough. He tries not to care, inside the car with you, hands interlocked, jokes being shared and daffodils, always them, on both your heads and fingers.

You’re proud of him, and he is nowhere near his freedom, but the responsibilities feel less strong, his sadness less real. You’re here, always will be.

﹙⠀ ᭡ ࣪˖ 🍋.⠀﹚ 20243008⠀─┈ ⭑⠀ ͏͏

[angelsheartts]

୭ JEALOUSY ˚. ᵎᵎ ~

#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, angel dust, husk, valentino, vox, x gn reader.

#cw: jealousy?, +18 in valentino's/vox's part, suggestive content ig, cuss words lmao.

#notes: u guys don’t know how much i wanna know why lilith made a deal with adam, and how could she even fumbled lucifer.

⋆.ೃ- LUCIFER .

i don't think lucifer gets jealous easily, at least, but if he is jealous, he will surely become reallyyyy clingy and will try to show off. i mean, he's the sin of pride, after all.

being the partner of the king of hell really meant that there would always be people staring at you, even ones who had no shame at all and would flirt with you, sometimes even in front of lucifer.

"would you mind if I bought you a drink, sweetheart?" a powerful overlord asked you, making lucifer raise an eyebrow and look at the overlord with one of his annoyed characteristics expressions, and before you could even reply anything, lucifer had already bought you both the whole menu of drinks while clinging onto you. "do you think this is enough for you, (name)?" he asked, making the overlord stop bothering you both and making you gasp a soft sigh, knowing he did all of this with such an innocent face, as if he wasn’t getting annoyed just a second ago.

⋆.ೃ- ADAM .

his ego is too big for him to even consider the idea of being jealous, but boy, does he want to get rid of the fucking asshole who is talking to you.

even though you were adam's third wife/adam's first husband, you were nice to being around. not like your husband, who always made snarky comments about everything and everyone.

sometimes, though, people would flirt with you without you noticing, making your husband really irritated and dragging you away while flipping off the angel who initially flirted with you and making some snarky remarks about them. "(name), that bitch was literally fucking you with his eyes! you should have called me before, next time make sure to be around me, got it?" adam called out, making you giggle since his insults were sometimes so unexpected.

⋆.ೃ- ALASTOR .

alastor is the kind of guy who wouldn’t get jealous; maybe once an extermination you would see him acting a little possessive over you, but really, this guy knows your soul belongs to him, so why would there be a need to feel jealous?

actually, only your friends at the hazbin hotel where the only ones who knew about your relationship with alastor; it made sense, since he knew you could get in danger if someone else found out.

that didn’t meant that angel dust wouldn’t take the opportunity to flirt with you as a joke while trying to get a reaction from you. "(name), i think you would get pretty popular if you started to appear on my films" he said jokingly to you, while alastor just looked at him with his usual smile "i don’t think that (name) would want to get involved in that kind of stuff, angel dust, isn’t that right, dear?" alastor answered, kissing your cheek, and leaving you speechless since he mostly kept his affection for when the both of you where alone.

⋆.ೃ- ANGEL DUST .

for me, he may get jealous depending on who's hitting on you; if it’s some random imp, it won’t really bother him; he will just tell them to fuck off themselves and leave you alone, but if it’s someone like valentino, oh boy, he acts VERY different.

angel dust didn’t really like you being in the porn studios were he works, because he knows that valentino is waiting to say anything to you, and because he simply thinks you don’t belong in a place like that. he thinks you’re much better working at the hazbin hotel or wandering around the pride ring.

"(name), aren’t you a supportive one? you know that if you want, i could make you a star lik-" "val, we're on set soon" angel dust spoke, looking angrily at valentino. "well, looks like your little boyfriend doesn’t want me to talk to you; i’m sure we’ll have plenty of time the next time," valentino whispered, making you stand there awkwardly.

as you both were finally at the hazbin hotel, anthony asked you not to come next time, since he really didn’t want valentino talking to you ever again. "(name), you know i really don’t want to get you in trouble, and you know that outside of the studio we can do whatever the fuck we want, but still, thanks for the snack you brought." he said, smirking, and letting you cuddle into his arms like you always do after an exhausting day.

⋆.ೃ- HUSK .

husk would only get jealous or, well, mostly, frustrated if someone interrupted you both, like if you both are just having a wholesome moment and someone just steals your attention from him, he’s a cat after all AND will be grumpy afterward.

you were having a nice chat with husk while having a drink at his bar, but as he was explaining you something, alastor came along and asked you something between the lines of 'if you had seen charlie or vaggie' since he had to talk to them about some business about the hazbin hotel.

after alastor left, you turned to look at your partner, noticing how he had been growling this entire time. it wasn’t really loud, though. "tsk, that radio demon really needed to ruin the atmosphere," he said, making you give him a look "what? you know, i dislike the idea of him thinking that he can just do whatever he pleases with my stuff." hearing your partner's words, you knew you had to reassure him that even though alastor had interrupted you both, your attention was still set on him and no one else.

⋆.ೃ- VALENTINO .

he’s valentino, he surely and kind of obviously gets jealous whenever you’re talking to someone that isn’t him.

the workers in the studio know that since you worked there, you've only filmed with valentino; nobody questions why, and nobody really cares whatever reason their boss has to not let you fuck with others.

today, though, a worker intended to jokingly flirt with you. "(name), i think that if we make a video together, even the most pure souls would want to watch it" oh, well, that wasn’t even a little funny to valentino.

"such a slut for me, mmh? you really thought my sweet (name) would even think about fucking with you?" valentino smirked, while thrusting into you. he had his eyes set on the demon who flirted with you, not even caring about the fact that he was on set.

⋆.ೃ- VOX .

this man has the same jealousy problems, or even worse, than valentino. he's actually such an attention whore, so he obviously would despise everyone who tries to flirt with you.

actually everyone who works for the vees knows how jealous vox is, and that’s because this is a situation that often happens: if someone is even looking at you a little longer than usual, he will become insecure and try ANYTHING he can so he can have your attention on him. like i mentioned, he’s an attention whore.

today, the outfit that velvette chose for you might have made some people stare back at you. i mean he can’t judge them; you looked so fucking good in it, but hell does he want to have you all by himself, so what does he does? take you to his office so he can have you all by himself.

"(name)," he mutters while keeping his hands all over your body. "you knew what you were doing, huh? making everyone stare at your body, but i’m such a good partner for not making a fuss about it, right?" he asked, waiting for you to atleast praise him, 'cause like a already mentioned he’s an attention wh- lmao.