#he just sounds so disappointed 😂

[sleepyone2three]

Slowing down the tempo of the silly chase music was a nice touch; really sold Buggy's crushing depression 🤣

[driverlando]

✧.* #BABYVERSTAPPEN

synopsis: Max accidentally leaks the news of your pregnancy during an interview and he breaks the internet

before you continue- I loveee this # series so much!! if you enjoy then pls reblog and follow :)

✧.* the interview

—

—

✧.* Y/N’s reaction

You hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. Glancing up from your phone, you see Max walk in with a cautious smile, holding a tub of your favourite ice cream like a peace offering. The house feels unusually quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy you’re used to when Max comes home.

“Hey, love,” Max says, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension in the air. “I brought your favourite ice cream.”

You look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, so now you’re trying to bribe me with ice cream?”

Max winces at your tone, setting the ice cream down on the coffee table. “I thought it might help smooth things over.”

You sigh, putting your phone aside. “Max, do you have any idea how many messages I’ve gotten today? Everyone knows now. Everyone.”

“I know, and I’m really sorry,” Max replies earnestly, stepping closer to you. “It just slipped out. I was excited, and I didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem, Max. You didn’t think,” you cut in, crossing your arms and stepping back from him. “This was supposed to be our special moment. Our announcement.”

Max reaches out for your hand, his expression pleading. You pull away, your disappointment palpable.

“You’re in the dog house tonight, Verstappen.”

“Come on, Y/N, don’t be like that,” Max urges, his eyes reflecting genuine regret. “I know I messed up, but I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t help talking about how happy I am.”

Your resolve wavers for a moment, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s not just about the announcement, Max. It’s about our privacy, our moment. You know how much this meant to me.”

“I do,” Max murmurs softly. “And I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

You shake your head, though your expression softens just a bit. “You better. But tonight, you’re sleeping on the sofa.”

Max nods solemnly, accepting his fate. “Alright, the sofa it is. But can we at least share the ice cream?”

You hesitate, then roll your eyes in resignation. “Fine. But just the ice cream. You’re still in trouble.”

Max smiles gratefully, relieved that you’re willing to share even this small moment with him. He retrieves two spoons from the kitchen and settles on the sofa beside you, careful to maintain a respectful distance, the mood swings were strong today. You sit together in silence, eating the ice cream slowly, each lost in your own thoughts.

As you near the bottom of the tub, Max suddenly has an idea. “Hey, Y/N?”

You look at him, a spoonful of ice cream paused halfway to your mouth. “What?”

“I know I ruined our announcement, and I feel terrible about it,” Max begins earnestly. “But how about this—you can be the one to announce the sex of the baby. However you want, whenever you want. It’s your moment.”

Your gaze softens as you consider his suggestion. “I like that idea. But you’re still sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

Max chuckles softly. “Fair enough. But at least we’re getting somewhere, right?”

You lean in and kiss his cheek gently. “Yeah, we are. Thanks, Max. This means a lot to me.”

—

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, landonorris and 1,357,147 others

yourusername guess the secrets out! (thanks max) baby verstappen we can’t wait to meet you 💘

tagged: @/maxverstappen1

view all 23,527 comments

yourbestfriend congrats!! so happy for the two of you ❤️

↳ yourbestfriend can’t wait to spoil her

↳ yourusername thank you darling! 💘

user1 hey, atleast max let you announce the sex 😂

user2 congratulations!! you’re going to be the best parents 🥳

maxverstappen1 so excited ❤️

user3 is max in the dog house? 😂

↳ yourusername yep.

—

—

✧.* the boys reactions

— Formula One Star Max Verstappen Accidentally Reveals Wife Y/N Y/L/N’s Pregnancy During Interview

By: Sasha, Rumour Radar

In a hilariously unexpected turn of events, Formula One champion Max Verstappen has found himself at the centre of a viral moment after inadvertently revealing his wife Y/N Y/L/N’s pregnancy during a live interview. The impromptu announcement has taken the motorsport and influencer communities by storm, and Y/N later added her own delightful twist to the news.

The Accidental Reveal

The incident unfolded during a press conference following Verstappen’s practice session. When asked about his expectations and what he was looking forward to in the new season, Verstappen, with his characteristic charm and ease, responded, “And for the baby to come too, the next season’s going to be busy.” The interviewer, catching the slip, pressed further, “Did you say baby?”

Max, realising his gaffe, was momentarily speechless. His face turned a shade of crimson as he stammered, “Uh, I mean…uh, no? Y/N is going to kill me.” This candid and unscripted moment sent ripples of excitement through the audience and quickly became the talk of the paddock.

Social Media Explosion

As soon as the clip aired, social media ignited. Fans, fellow racers, and celebrities alike flooded platforms like Twitter and Instagram with reactions, congratulations, and plenty of memes. The hashtag #VerstappenBaby soared to the top of the trending lists, making it clear that the news had captured everyone’s attention.

Fans and media outlets were abuzz with the news. In a move that was as swift as it was sweet, Y/N took to Instagram to confirm the delightful news. She posted a picture of a cake with pink filling and an ultrasound picture, accompanied by the caption, “Guess the secret’s out! (Thanks Max) Baby Verstappen, we can’t wait to meet you 💘.”

Max’s unintentional reveal and Y/N’s charming confirmation on social media endeared the couple even more to their legion of fans. Verstappen, known for his fierce competitiveness and composed demeanour on the track, showed a softer, more relatable side that resonated with many. His initial reaction, followed by Y/N’s sweet Instagram post, painted a picture of a couple who are navigating the journey to parenthood with humour and grace.

Messages of support

The Verstappen household, already bustling with the excitement of the F1 season, is now set for even more joy with the impending arrival of their baby girl. The couple, who have been private about their journey to parenthood, seemed to embrace the unexpected reveal with good humour. Max later took to social media, joking, “Lesson learnt! Next time, I'll leave the announcements to Y/N.”

As the F1 season progresses, Max Verstappen will have more than just his racing commitments to look forward to. The prospect of becoming a father has added a new dimension to his life, bringing a balance between his high-octane career and his personal life. This blend of professional and personal excitement has further endeared him to fans who now feel even more connected to his journey.

Despite the unplanned nature of the announcement, Max and Y/N have embraced the outpouring of support. A close friend of the couple shared, “Max and Y/N are over the moon about the baby. It wasn’t how they planned to share the news, but they’re thrilled with the love and support they’ve received and now laugh over the accidental reveal.”

Max’s teammates and rivals have also expressed their congratulations. Lewis Hamilton, Verstappen’s long-time competitor, commented on Y/N’s post, “Huge congrats to both of you! You’ll be the best parents!” Daniel Ricciardo, known for his playful camaraderie with Verstappen, added, “Can’t wait to meet Baby Verstappen! She’s going to be a little racer for sure.”

The new season

The unplanned revelation has certainly added a fresh layer of excitement to the season. Media outlets have been buzzing with speculation about how the impending fatherhood will impact Verstappen’s performance on the track. Analysts suggest that the new family milestone might provide him with an extra boost of motivation and focus.

For now, the spotlight remains on the happy news of Baby Verstappen. The couple’s playful and endearing approach to this new chapter in their lives has won them even more admiration and affection from their fans. As the countdown to their baby girl’s arrival begins, Max and Y/N are set to experience a whirlwind of emotions, balancing the thrills of Formula 1 with the joys of parenthood.

In the grandstands, on social media, and in the hearts of their supporters, Max and Y/N Verstappen are celebrated not just as a racing power couple but also as soon-to-be parents. The racing world waits with bated breath for more updates, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the newest member of the Verstappen family.

Stay tuned to Rumour Radar for the latest updates on this unfolding story and more celebrity gossip.

—

[bigbuffjoonie]

I am floored. Wow. What a finale!! Now that’s what I call stranger danger lmao! I have never seen the show it was inspired from so I really had no idea what to expect! This was an amazing suspenseful journey. Thank you so much for your work! I loved reading it! 💖

Strangers (Chapter Ten)

Strangers from Hell AU

Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

word count: 6.7k

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!): unreliable narrator, murder, mature themes, minor character death, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, bullying, violence against women, blood and injuries, mc has some self-deprecating thoughts, mc is lowkey in denial.

The day stretched on for what felt like hours but in reality was only about two before the sun had finally begun to set. The weather had been so weird, bright and sunny despite the dark clouds looming in the background. Something told you that the storm you sensed coming previously was finally about to arrive - just in time, too.

You had stared out the window of the hotel as Nayeon paced on the floor in front of the bed. She had been mumbling things here and there, reaching for her phone a few times before ultimately changing her mind. She didn’t like to be out of control of the situation, that much you could tell. You had never seen your best friend so stressed - not even during exam week - and you have to admit you didn’t like it. She had always been so sure of herself for as long as you had known her. If anything, this just emphasized the seriousness of the situation.

You’re sure you probably looked too blasé about the situation, a blank expression on your face as you rested your head on your knees. The truth was you just felt numb, having gone through so many emotions these past days already. This past month had taken a tremendous toll on you, the lack of sleep and stress finally catching up to you. You had no idea what the outcome would be after tonight but you found it hard to care. Jail almost sounded better than whatever awaited you both at the residence, but you weren’t exactly ready to go running to the police station right now anyway. Besides, you didn’t want to find out what Namjoon would do if you went against his wishes.

“Fuck it, I’m calling them.” Nayeon finally broke, picking her phone up off the bed and swiping at it.

Keep reading

[sometimesanalice]

Are You Gonna Be My Girl?

Summary: It’s been a couple of months since the two of you have started hooking up, and it’s no secret that Rooster is hung up on you. He takes the gamble and invites you to the yearly Halloween bash at the Hard Deck. The only problem is he can’t figure out what the hell you’re supposed to be. 

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6.2K

Warnings: allusions to smut and Rooster being a simp (but what else is new 😂) (mdni)

The Black Keys’ “Howlin’ for You” playing loudly over the static-y speakers of the Hard Deck masking the sound of Rooster’s fingers as he impatiently drums them on top of the worn table, uncaring of the fact he’s out of tempo with the song.

Penny’s yearly Halloween Spooktacular has always been a fan favorite with those stationed at North Island. A name that Amelia had thrown shade at no less than five times as she worked on designing the event flier the afternoon that the Daggers had been bribed with free beers for coming in on their free time to help decorate.

There wasn’t an inch of the bar that was left untouched, and it wasn’t just that Bob had gotten carried away with the downy spider webbing. There were orange and purple string lights threaded around the circular mug racks, floating candles over the pool table, dangling bats and streamers, and an enthusiastic but poorly executed attempt at a balloon arch over the entry door.

The wispy fog covered punchbowl with a suspicious dark purple beverage bubbled away on the bartop, tendrils cascaded over the side only adding to the atmosphere. The stuff was so potent that Bradley was pretty sure it would put the jungle juice he’d thrown back in college to shame.

Rooster had been tasked with curating the playlist for tonight’s party, and if he’d been paying even a little bit of attention, he’d have known his choices were being well received by the boisterous crowd. But his attention is half split trying to listen to Hangman’s story about the Halloween prank gone wrong that left him with twelve stitches and half listening for-

Ding

He’s quick on the draw to pull out his phone from the chest pocket to check if it was his that went off.

When he’d arrived Nat, decked out in a sequined pink gown with a gun he wasn’t sure was fake or not strapped to her thigh for her Miss Congeniality costume, had given him a look of disdain and said what he was wearing was low effort even for him.

Rooster tucks his phone away with a disappointed sigh when there are zero new notifications on his lock screen.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so whipped over a girl before, Bradshaw,” Hangman drawls, leaning into the gunslinging cowboy thing he has going on for the evening. His shirt is unbuttoned more than is strictly necessary, and is complete with a belt buckle that is larger than the state of Texas and too heavy looking to have been bought off Amazon.

Ding

Bradley fishes out his phone again from the pocket he’d put it back in only moments earlier.

You, 10:32pm: “u up?”

He grins.

“And we’ve lost him,” someone snarks, but he’s too busy punching in the password to unlock his phone to care.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:32pm: are you ever going to let that go?

You, 10:32pm: Mmm, no. You were so bad at being a fuckboy, it was funny.

You, 10:33pm: But in a very hot way, might I add. And clearly, it worked in your favor since I let you come over and hit it a second time.

Rooster snorts in amusement.

It was the first and last time he’d taken Fanboy’s advice and you teased him about it every opportunity you got. He had been a little rusty with the ins and outs of no-strings-attached sex with someone who wasn’t in the Navy. But he’d more than made up for it that same night by eating you out until your legs were shaking and you were weakly pushing his head away as he’d coaxed you into coming just one more time against his tongue.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:33pm: don’t remember hearing you laughing last night when your pussy was dripping all over my cock

He takes a sip of beer as he waits for your response.

You, 10:33pm: Look! You’re already so much better at sexting than you were when we met!

You, 10:34pm: “u up?” is still on the table, by the way. Not to brag, but I even have a pumpkin shaped pizza. 

You, 10:34pm: If you want to come over. 

If you want to come over. He shakes his head reading the text again.

As if he’d ever pass up on getting to spend time with you.

As if Rooster hadn’t been hooked on you since the moment he’d met you.

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗢

As a general rule, Bradley hated grocery shopping.

He’s never had the patience for it, with the way that everyone is in their own world. He gets tired of always having to weave around people and the way that there always seems to be carelessly parked carts or people catching up standing between him and the items on his list.

Which is why when he noticed the parking lot was mostly empty on his way home, he decided to stop and spare himself the headache of doing it over the weekend when everyone else was out and just get it done.

He’d expected to be in and out in record time until the uniform lines of colorful cartons of ice cream caught his attention as he was tossing in a few bags of frozen chicken into his cart. Normally it was always so crowded that he never felt like he could take his time looking without being in someone’s way, that he’d skip it entirely and later try to convince himself that his Greek yogurt was just as good. But tonight since no one was around, he was taking his time.

Under the glare of the fluorescents, he stands there with the hum of the freezers competing with the too-twangy-for-his-taste country song playing over the speakers and debating his options when he feels an arm thread around his own, surprising him out of the pros and cons list he was making in his head between the healthier low-calorie choice versus the one he actually wanted.

“Hi, hello there.” Bradley glances over to see the prettiest pair of eyes looking up at him expectantly. “Do you mind playing along for a few minutes, there’s some creep who keeps trying to bother me.”

He looks over the top of your head to see some guy lingering at the end of the aisle. “The guy who looks like off-brand John Mayer?”

You scrunch your nose up. “That’d be the one.”

“How good are you at picking out ice cream flavors?” he asks, standing up straighter and pulling his shoulders back.

You blink at him in confusion before your lips tick up in a relieved smile. “Very good, as a matter of fact.”

“Great, you came to my rescue just in time.” Bradley guides you closer until you’re in front of him, lightly resting a hand on your hip the way he would if you were his girlfriend. “Is this ok?” he asks under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear.

When you nod, he feels the knot in his chest loosen. Because while he wants this to be convincing to the guy still loitering at the edge of the aisle, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“First things first, we need to establish a baseline.” You point at the carton covered in cartoony looking chocolate chip cookies. “What’s your opinion on cookie dough?”

“Overrated,” he answers, not missing a beat. “I’d rather just eat the stuff out of a tube instead.”

You lean back into him a bit more. “Ooh, tough crowd,” you tease, your head finding his shoulder. “Ok then, mister tempting-fate-with-salmonella, what’s your stance on the great vanilla bean vs French vanilla debate?”

Bradley takes a quick look around to make sure they’re not blocking any other late night grocery shoppers. He pretends to ponder for a moment before responding, “I like the one with flecks.”

“A dignified choice.” You say it so solemnly that he can’t help but chuckle.

The easy back and forth banter goes on for a few more minutes. Sometimes you rib him about his answers and other times agree. It shouldn’t be so fun standing there in front of the cooler filled with tubs of ice cream, but it is. It was the last thing he could have expected when he’d decided to stop in at the last minute on his way home after hitting up the Hard Deck.

When he tells you the two choices he had been contemplating before you’d come up to him, you hum contemplatively and tap a finger against your cheek, “Well this changes everything if you’re dairy free.”

“Nah, just watching my figure. The containers are smaller and I have a sweet tooth.”

“Respectfully, I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about. You fill out those khakis just fine, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Rooster wonders if you can hear his self-satisfied grin. “Not every day I get a pretty girl telling me she was checking out my ass.”

You let out a small, amused scoff and all he feels is pleased with himself.

“I was not checking out your- oh.” The surprise in your voice has him leaning back enough to get a look at your face. “Wait, is he gone?” You peer around his shoulder, but don’t make a move to pull away from the gentle hold he has on you.

“He left around the time you were giving a very impassioned speech about how overlooked spumoni is. I probably should have mentioned it sooner, but you were making a pretty compelling case and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says, trying to play it off casually and hoping that he didn’t just become the creep in this story when you tell it to your friends later.

“Oh, ok. That’s, um, that’s good.” You sound almost… disappointed? You take a step towards the case and he drops his arm back down to his side, already missing the feel of you under it. “Thank you so much for committing to the bit. Seriously, I truly appreciate it,” you say over your shoulder, opening the glass door.

He rubs the back of his neck, watching as you grab a carton out of the freezer, not sure whether to move on with the rest of his shopping or not. But when you turn back towards him, he’s hit with the full force of your smile, feeling it all the way to his toes.

“Rocky Road,” you say, setting the carton into his cart. “It has peanuts in it, which is a nutrient-dense food and an excellent plant-based source of protein. There’s collagen from the gelatin in the marshmallows. And chocolate has antioxidants in it and is known to trigger the holy trinity of happy brain chemicals. It’s basically a superfood.”

Rooster grins. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“No, unfortunately, it really doesn’t,” you agree, playfully leaning a hip against his cart. “But it’s more fun this way, don’t you think?”

He’s so fucking charmed by you and he doesn’t even know your name yet.

While he’s glad he was there at the right time and got to play a small part in deterring that guy from continuing to hassle you, he kind of wishes the two of you could have met under different circumstances, because he’d jump at the chance of being able to score a date with you. He sighs and shakes the thought out of his head.

“Would you like me to walk you to your car?” Rooster offers, ready to abandon his groceries for a few extra minutes with you.

“Oh wow.” That mischievous gleam that had been in your eyes changes to something softer. You tilt your head, taking him in with a thoughtful expression on your face. “You’re one of those rare genuinely a gentleman types, aren’t you? Like the kind who always walks closest to the curb and mows their elderly neighbor’s yard without being asked.” Bradley just lifts a shoulder. He’s used to looking out for other people, it’s just something he’s always done. “And they say chivalry is dead,” you muse, contemplatively, “I should let you know though, knock-off John Mayer is my ex.”

He feels his hackles rise up immediately and scans the area again to double check the guy isn’t still hanging around. “Is he harassing you?”

“Oh no, it was only an unfortunate fluke, I promise,” you say, patting his hand that’s gripping the handle of the shopping cart reassuringly. “He’s just a jackass who thought he could cheat on me and that I’d still take him back.” Bradley grunts at that, even more irritated than he was before. “But he was still trying to test the waters, even after I told him I was seeing someone,” you continue, with a roll of your eyes, “Which was technically true- even if I am in fact single right now- because that’s when I saw you over here gazing very intensely into the freezer case like you’d been personally victimized by Ben and Jerry.”

“You’re out of his league anyways,” he rasps. 

There’s no way in hell Bradley would fumble a girl like you.

You grin widely, clearly amused at his annoyance on your behalf. “He was a tool with an overinflated ego and a flat ass.” Rooster barks out a surprised laugh. “And you’re so much hotter than him, so I really lucked out there with you as my knight in ironed  khakis,” you say unabashedly, reaching out to straighten out his already perfectly straight name tag. “You really went above and beyond for your country there helping me win the break up.”

“I don’t think you needed me for that part. It’s pretty clear you came out on top.” His eyes dart down to your hand on the cart, like you forgot it was still resting on top of his. “But I was more than happy to help all the same.” He takes a half step closer into your space, deciding just to go for it. “I’m thinking we should keep up the ruse though, you know, just in case he is lurking by the pasta or something.”

You quirk a knowing eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

“I could also use your professional opinion on cereal. That is if you still have some more shopping to do,” he suggests, nodding to your mostly empty handbasket.

There’s no question that he’s caught your interest, not with the way you’re looking at him. That smile you’re wearing tells a story of its own. “What a coincidence, that just happens to be my forte.”

“I had a feeling you might be the right girl for the job.” Bradley takes your basket from you and sets it in his cart and gestures for you to lead the way.

He learns your name around the same time he does about your hottake on Frosted Cheerios.

And later that night, his groceries are packed away in your fridge as the container of Rocky Road the two of you were sharing melts on your coffee table- the condensation puddling on the marble surface reflecting the credits rolling across the TV screen- as you ride him on your couch. Your hands tightly fisted in his hair and your breathy whines in his ear urging him to fuck you harder and faster until you come with his name in your mouth.

And in the morning, he gets your number over a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

The two of you have been fooling around for a couple of months now.

On the nights Rooster wasn’t fucking you, he was getting himself off to the thought of you and wishing you were in bed with him. You’ve never been to his place, so he doesn’t even have the bonus of that bright citrus scent of you lingering on his sheets on the nights he spends alone.

The sex was great. Mind-blowing. You were loud and enthusiastic and gave just as good as you got. Bradley found your confidence sexy as hell. You were the type of girl who knew exactly what she wanted and he was always up for the challenge of finding new ways to make your back arch and toes curl.

But he was just as much of a fan of the parts that came before and after getting you spasming around his cock.

He liked the way your mind worked. You were always telling him about something interesting you’d read, because you were naturally curious about the world around you. You asked him thoughtful questions about his job and his life in the Navy, but not in the way he was used to from the tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck. There was no mistaking you were asking because you wanted to know more about him, and not fixated on the shiny sheen of his golden aviator wings.

Rooster has never laughed as much as he has with you. In those moments between catching your sighs with his mouth and waiting for the knock on the door for whatever late-night craving was being delivered, you’d have him laughing and grinning until his cheeks ached.

The closest he’s ever gotten to taking you on a proper date was that one late night drive-thru run when everything on delivery apps were closed. You’d looked like his favorite daydream sitting there under the glow of the streetlamp in the nearly empty parking lot in a shirt of his that he must have accidently left behind after a hook up.

That night was the most real it’s ever felt. And he wanted more nights just like that.

He liked the way you always seemed to have a documentary to recommend for any given topic, he has a list on his phone and has been working his way through them. He liked the way the glasses you wore sometimes seemed slightly too big for your face because it was cute the way you’d constantly push them back up your nose. He liked that you texted in full sentences with complete and proper punctuation.

Bradley could already imagine how tonight would most likely go.

He’d dip out of the party early and come to your place. Your tongue in his mouth and your greedy little hand tugging to get his belt undone before he’d even made it through the door. The two of you going at it until someone has to tap out- which he is smug in the fact that more often than not it’s usually you- now that he knows all the best ways to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. Sometimes the two of you order in, and other nights you’ll pass a bowl of ice cream or cereal back and forth over the island in your kitchen where he gets to hear you laugh and tease him and tell him about your day. Then do it all over again and once you’re thoroughly spent, he’ll hold you as you fall asleep. And then in the morning he’ll press a kiss to your cheek and take one more look back at you before leaving through the same door he’d shown up at only hours before.

And that was fine for now, but he wanted more of you. He didn’t want to be just a casual hook up, he wanted to date you.

He wanted to be soft launched and hard launched, or whatever it was that Mickey was talking about that night he’d taken his misguided advice and sent the much teased “u up?” text. He wanted to block people in the chip aisle of the grocery store as you talked him into getting some crazy flavor, turning his least favorite chore into the highlight of his week. He wanted knockoff John Mayer to see he got the girl and knew how to treat her right.

He wanted you to be his girl.

“Aren’t you too old to be in a situationship, Bradshaw?” Jake asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Fuck off,” Rooster grumbles, his eyebrows furrowed and his thumbs still hovering over the screen. A couple minutes have ticked by since your last text as he sits there stewing. He knocks back the remainder of his beer, it’s mostly foam, “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“No, you’re not. Bob hasn’t even performed the dance routine to “Thriller” yet,” Nat says, pinning him to his stool with a look, “Come on, Bradley, just invite her here.” She reaches overs and squeezes his shoulder. “You’ve been seeing her for a couple months now. You’re clearly into her, and you wouldn’t disappear on us as much as you do if she wasn’t into you too. This is a low stakes environment with everything going on and people off having fun doing their own thing. And the two of you can still go and do whatever you’re going to do after.”

“I don’t know, Phoenix, she might dump him when she sees what he’s wearing at a Navy bar on Halloween,” Hangman drawls, unhelpfully, grinning around that damn toothpick.

“Shut it, Bagman,” they both say simultaneously.

“Just throw it out there and see what she says.” Nat slides out of her seat, the beads on her dress scraping against the edge of the stool. “Now, we’re going to let you panic in peace for a few minutes while we get another round.”

“We’re?” Jake asks slowly, deliberately drawing out the word.

“Yep,” she confirms, the look on her face leaving no room for arguments as she tugs him off his seat. “And you’re paying, let’s go.”

Bradley scrubs a hand over his face, but not before he sees Nat punching Seresin in the arm on their way to the bar.

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous all of a sudden, he’s never had an issue asking girls out before. Not that he’s ever had to work that hard for it, but still.

His knee bounces on the foot rest as he works out what to say. He types out the message and gives it a quick once over and hits send before he can overthink it.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’d never say no to you or a pumpkin shaped pizza. But I’m actually at a Halloween party right now at the bar near base with some friends. And I’m thinking you should stop by.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’m sorry it’s a last minute invite, but it’s always a good time and I think you would have fun. I’d like to see you, if “ur up” for it.

He tries not to dwell on the fact he just double texted you, a thing he didn’t know he should be worried about before Fanboy warned him about doing it.

It’s like he’s been hit by lightning the way he shoots up in his seat when he sees those little dots appear on the screen. Rooster holds his breath when they start and stop a few times, each time they disappear and come back again his heart pounds a little harder in his chest.

You, 10:44pm: I’m all in. What’s the address?

All the bubbles from the beer he’d had earlier swarm and rush to his head at once as he drops you a pin.

Nat pushes a shot of bourbon towards him across the table when they return. “Did it go well?”

He nods. “She’s on her way.”

“Good, because you know Halloween is my favorite holiday and your sulking was bringing the vibe down.”

He chuckles, there’s no way he’s beating those whipped allegations now.

She clinks her own shot with his and they throw them back together, the warmth of the expensive tasting liquor sticks behind his sternum.

The next thirty minutes are the longest of Rooster’s life. His head swings to the front door every time it opens, hoping that it’ll be you outlined by the purple, green, and orange string lights.

When he sees you come through the swiftly deflating balloon arch scanning the bar for him, he almost does a double take.

You’ve got on a black and white polka dot top, the cuffs are a flared ruffle that are tied with a bow at your wrist. Your skirt is plain black, but the way it hugs your hips leaves little to the imagination. He can’t even begin to guess what you’re dressed as because other than the night he met you, it’s the most clothes he’s ever seen you in.

Excluding those little silky matching sets you’re usually wearing when he comes over. But those don’t usually stay on too long before they end up on the floor of your living room. Or bedroom. Or kitchen.

He usually has to leave before you, so he’s usually headed out your front door while you’re still wrapped up in one of those fluffy white towels you have. He’s enjoying seeing you here in his favorite bar in that outfit and heading towards him like you’re just as happy to see him as he is to see you.

“Huh, if I'm not mistaken I’m pretty sure that’s what I sent you into work in this morning,” you say, grinning up at him and lightly tugging on the zipper of his flight suit. “Are you supposed to be a Walk of Shame?”

Bradley wraps an arm around you because he can’t help himself. “Please, we all know it’s called the Stride of Pride. It’s never a shame when I get laid.” He presses his fingertips into the swell of the top of your ass before leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear, “Plus, I didn’t have time to go home and grab my costume because someone lured me back into bed this morning.”

He had to do 200 extra push-ups and stay behind to do paperwork as penance for being late the third time that week, but it was worth it. But by the time he was finished, the sun was already well on its way to setting. If he’d been a bit more forward thinking he would have brought the costume he had planned with him, instead of thinking he’d have time to swing by his house to change. Bradley didn’t think it was too much of a let down for you, not with the way you’re looking at him. It’s that same heated way that tells him you’re remembering your reaction to it the first time you’d ever seen him in it.

“Sounds like poor planning on your part,” you tease, your finger tracing the edge of his nametag. “I can’t believe you’re wearing your work clothes to a Halloween party, Rooster.”

“Ok, funny girl. Tell me then, what’re you supposed to be?” He takes a step back and gives you a blatant once over, taking his time admiring the shape of you from your head to your toes in some wicked looking heels and back up again.

Maybe if things went well tonight, you’d leave them on for him later when he gets you alone.

“That’s for me to know, and for you to spend the night guessing,” you smirk, the curve of your mouth promising mischief. “But I think you’ll like it once you figure it out.”

“Bradshaw, are you going to introduce us to your sexy librarian?” Hangman hollers, waving the two of you over back to the table with his hat. Bradley doesn’t hear as much as he sees the oof that comes out of the blonde when Phoenix sends an elbow into his side.

Rooster glances at you with a raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head. Not a sexy librarian then.

“I take it you know the rodeo clown?”

He tips his head back and laughs, already looking forward to telling Hangman. “I do. And Gracie Lou Freebush over there too.”

You wave over at Nat, gesturing to her costume and mouth obsessed, before turning back to him to ask, “Is that gun real?”

“I’m too afraid to ask,” he jokes, only half kidding. “C’mon let me get you a drink, I have an in with the bartender.”

“Are you trying to show off for me, Bradley?”

“Definitely.” He reaches out and toys with the end of the bow on your sleeve. “Is it working, Leslie Knope?”

You just send him that devastating smile of yours and thread your fingers through his. “I think I'm going to have so much fun with this tonight.”

“But full disclosure, you see Napoleon Bonaparte?” He points over to where Mav is behind the bar wearing tasseled shoulder pads pouring pints behind the bar next to a bedazzled Penny in a white neoclassical style dress. “That’s my godfather and his fiancée.”

You school the surprise on your face quickly. “Bradley Bradshaw, are you a nepobaby?”

“That’s a story for another time.” He chuckles, carefully winding his way around a Fred Flintstone and a Deviled Egg to the bar. “Be warned though, the Blue Slime Sipper is lethal. I had four last year and put on an a cappella performance of the Ghostbusters theme song.”

“Please tell me someone has a video of that,” you laugh.

“I called in every favor I had to get all evidence of that particular performance erased.”

At the bar, you order two Blue Slime Sippers looking the picture of innocence as you admire the giant spider affixed to the top of the bar by the till, even though he knows better.

One for him and one for you.

He briefly introduces you to Penny and Mav, trying to keep it casual. Thankfully, it’s busy enough that there’s not more time for small talk or jokes about the frosted tips he had when he was thirteen.

Their guess at a modern day I Love Lucy was also met with a no.

But he’s pretty sure Mav’s attempt to stealthily shoot him two thumbs up after you get your neon blue colored drinks fails based on the way your lips are pressed together in an attempt to smother the smile that he sees toying at the corners of your mouth.

Over the course of the night, it becomes a game that the rest of the team joins in on as he introduces them to the girl he’s been hung up on for weeks.

You help him kick Payback and Fanboy’s asses at the Eyeball Beer Pong that Penny had set up outside on the deck.

“Damn, Lawyer Barbie has an arm,” Fanboy says, the spring of the Slingy Dog costume sagging sadly between him and Payback, watching as you sink another doodled on ping-pong ball into a cup.

“I think we need a rematch,” Payback countered after their loss, “Flight Attendants have great hand-eye coordination, it’s an unfair advantage.”

Both guesses were met with a no.

When you side with Nat over Death Becomes Her as the best, but most underrated, Halloween movie, she throws her hands up in victory, “Thank you! Finally, someone with good taste… Olivia Pope?”

It’s another no, but he’s happy to see how much fun you’re having with his friends.

Between the riotous costume contest voting, and the one-man performance of “Thriller” that Bob puts on, and the pumpkin tic-tac-toe, Rooster has a lot of fun making his own guesses.

Except for the time he offers up Miss Bliss, he nearly chokes on his Cauldron Cooler when you ask him, “Is that a porn thing?”

Which in hindsight, he probably should have specified from the show Saved by the Bell, that he only knew because he’d been into Tiffani Amber Thiessen as a kid, but he doesn’t get to because you’re too busy delightedly laughing at his near spit-take.

He sticks close to your side, an arm slung over your shoulder or around your waist. There’s a moment when he gets worried he might be smothering you, but then you’d lean your head on his shoulder and he figured you were right where you wanted to be.

The two of you step outside when the Monster Mash smashburger contest starts up, the song following you to the sun-bleached wooden deck.

There are less people out here now, a few people are stationed behind the ping-pong table and others are seated on the picnic tables chatting and swapping stories. Most of his friends had stayed inside to cheer on Coyote’s attempt to hold onto his burger eating crown.

It’s the first time all night that he has you on your own, and while he appreciates how welcoming his friends are with wanting to make you feel included and slipping in more than a few jokes at his expense, he’s ready to have you to himself for a while.

But first.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re supposed to be?” He runs a finger along the ruffle down the front of your shirt. “I think I’ve lost count of how many failed attempts I’ve made now and It’s starting to take a toll on my ego.”

“How about this, you tell me what you were supposed to be and then I’ll tell you what my costume is,” you offer, playfully.  

You’re still toying with him like a cat does a string and he doesn’t mind a single bit.

He steps in close, winding an arm around your low back pulling you in close. “James Bond,” he says, enjoying the way your eyes light up.

“Now that’s something I would love to see,” you murmur, running your hand along his arm. “Not that the flight suit isn’t working for me.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you.

Rooster shakes his head amused. “I’ll put it on for you later if you want.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you, but you haven’t seen him in a tux yet. “Now, I’ve been dying to know since the moment you walked in, what are you dressed as?”

You grin, wide and bright, like you’ve been waiting for this all night.

“Your future girlfriend, I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Bradley doesn’t waste a moment bringing both of his hands to your face and getting his lips on yours. A surprised noise escapes from the back of your throat before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer.

Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more. His tongue chases after the sweetness of your mouth. He can’t get enough of it.

He can’t get enough of you.

“So I take it, you like my costume then?” you ask against his lips.

“I’m about to go swipe that trophy from Cousin Itt because yours is the best one here by far.” You giggle when he pulls you back in to kiss you again- or tries to. “C’mon, sweetheart, I need you to cooperate here. I’m trying to kiss my girlfriend.”

But then his teeth click against yours because now you’ve got him smiling too.

You skim another soft kiss against his mouth and lean back. “You know, I did have a back-up costume, just in case things didn’t go well.” You put a finger up and twist a little in his arms to rummage in your purse. And when you turn back towards him you’ve got a bright red clown nose on your face.

“Are you kidding me? The only clown here is Seresin.” He chuckles and gently pulls it from off your nose. “I’ve been trying to figure out how lock this down for weeks now. That tux was going to be my ace. It’s about a half size too small, but I figured it might do the trick to make things more official. It’s a good thing I’ve got a girl who knows what she wants.”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Bradshaw. I still want to see you in it.”

“I can make that happen. Especially since that means I get to take you home with me tonight.” He drops a kiss on your cheek. “I’ve got an idea about what we can be next year though.”

“It’s not even midnight yet, and you’re thinking about next year?”

Bradley shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m all about playing the long game. Just want to give you something to look forward to.”

“Let’s hear it then,” you say, giving him an expectant look.

“Considering how we met and all, I think contestants from Supermarket Sweep would be a solid choice for us. There’s nothing sexier than some khakis and sweatshirts.”

You look delighted and amused and like his.

“Done. You know I am a big fan of you in a pair of khakis.”

Rooster tugs you to him again needing to taste your grin. He hears a cheer go up inside of the bar, probably for whoever won the contest, but he pretends it’s for him.

After all, he’s the one who got the girl.

Happy Halloween! I'm dropping a smitten Rooster into everyone's candy bucket this year! Thank you for reading!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

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[pickingupmymercedes]

He always rises - Lewis Hamilton

Happy Lewis for the win here.

request: " idk if you saw lewis laying down on the sofa in the post race press conference, but all i could think about is him knocking out immediately back at the hotel😂 With this prompt: “snuggle with me” - @goldenroutledge

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1K

a/n: It was a blurb request from our 500 Celebration, but it ran from me. It's totally self-indulgent. If Lewis is happy we're happy, hope you like it ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The air crackled with a different kind of electricity this time around in the finishing stages of the Spanish Grand Prix. The dejection that had clung to Lewis like a second skin all season seemed to have evaporated, replaced by a genuine, unrestrained smile that stretched from ear to ear.

A podium finish, his first of the season, might not have been the win he was used to fighting for, but in the context of their current struggles, it felt like a monumental victory.

As Lewis climbed out of his car and removed his helmet, he heard the crowd erupting in cheers. He gave some of his team a brief celebratory hug before his eyes locked onto Y/N standing by corner of the gates of parc ferme.

He made his way over to her, a triumphant grin lighting up his face. “You were amazing out there!” Y/N beamed, her eyes sparkling with pride. Lewis leaned in and gave her a quick hug, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

He breezed through the post-race interviews; the guardedness of the recent races replaced by a playful banter with the reporters, jokes with Verstappen and Norris during the press conference, and selfies afterwards.

The celebratory mood followed him back to the garage. It was a welcome change from the frustration and disappointment that had plagued the first half of his final season with Mercedes. High fives were exchanged, engineers bouncing on the spot with unbridled joy. Relief washed over that whole side of the garage.

Y/n were by the hospitality area, her laughter mingling with the animated chatter of other Mercedes personnel. The sight of her, so carefree and happy amidst the team's, his team, was pure joy to him.

He excused himself from his press secretary for a few moments, his long strides eating up the distance between them in seconds, eager for a private moment amidst the chaos.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said softly, pulling her into a secluded corner just as he kissed her deeply, pouring all the relief and joy he felt into that kiss. Y/N smiled against his lips, her arms wrapping around his neck.

He cupped her face in his hands, his smile mirroring the one that had been plastered across her face all afternoon. That kiss had been different. It wasn't just a celebratory peck; it was a culmination of all the stress, the frustration, the unwavering belief that had finally been validated. It spoke of a shared burden, a weight finally off their shoulders.

"You look radiant," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with emotion.

"And you," she countered, tracing a finger down his cheek "look like a kid that has been given way too many sweets."

He chuckled, the sound light and carefree. "Maybe a little. I just feel… relieved."

"I know, babe. We all know." she squeezed his hand. " Now, go. They’re waiting for you. I’ll head back to the hotel and wait there."

He lingered for a moment longer, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Finally, with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he pulled away. "Debrief. Then straight to the hotel. I’ll see you in a bit." Y/n nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

When he finally made it back to the hotel, he was physically and mentally drained, and the room was a welcome refuge. the sight that greeted him made his heart swell. Y/N was curled up on the bed, wearing one of his oversized hoodies, looking cozy and content.

“Hey, you,” she greeted him with a warm smile. “You look exhausted. Come snuggle with me.”

Lewis didn’t need to be asked twice. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto her arms in the bed, resting his head on her chest, her fingers gently tracing patterns on his skin. "Looking mighty comfy in my clothes, there, love," he teased, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just borrowing what's mine anyway" she retorted, a playful glint in her eyes. "Besides, it smells like you." Lewis couldn't help but chuckle.

"How are you feeling, really?" Y/n asked softly after a few moments of silence, her fingers gently stroking his hair.

Lewis sighed, closing his eyes as he savored the comfort of her presence. "Like the kind of relief I felt when you finally said yes to that twentieth date I asked you on."

Y/n swatted him playfully on the arm. "It was more like 10” laughing with him before continuing. “But seriously, Lewis."

He nuzzled closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Like I knew I'd given it my all, every lap, every strategy meeting. And finally, finally, it’s paying off. It feels… good. It feels so damn good."

She hummed in agreement, running her fingers through his hair in a comforting rhythm. She knew how much this podium meant to him; how hard he had worked for it. “I’m so proud of you” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his head.

They talked for a while, about anything and everything, the sound of her voice a soothing lullaby to his tired mind. His eyelids grew heavy, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to him. Y/N continued to stroke his hair, her touch soothing and gentle. “Get some rest, love,” she murmured. “You’ve earned it.” Lewis nodded, his eyes fluttering shut.

The gentle rise and fall of Y/n’s chest a lullaby against his ear and he drifted off to sleep as she watched him sleep, committing every detail of his face to memory – the crinkle around his eyes when he smiled, the slight furrow in his brow that appeared when he was concentrating, the way his lips twitched even in sleep. He looked peaceful, content.

Such a contrast to the man who had carried the weight of the team's struggles on his shoulders for the past years.

The tranquility was shattered with a sharp trill of Lewis' phone. He stirred slightly, a low groan escaping his lips. Y/n reached over and silenced the call, earning a mumbled "thank you" from him before he tried to drift back to sleep. However, the respite was short-lived. The phone buzzed again, more insistently this time.

Seeing the name flashing on the screen again, Y/n gently nudged him awake, knowing how important his family was to him. "It's your dad”

He cracked open one eye, a playful glint returning. "Spoiling my nap, aren't you?"

She lightly ran her nails in his arms with a smile to really wake him up. "Just making sure you don't miss his call."

He chuckled; the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Alright, alright. Put it on speaker." You reached for the phone and hit accept, setting it on his abdomen

"Lewis?" Anthony's voice boomed through the speaker.

"Hey, dad" Lewis replied, his voice still laced with sleep but a genuine warmth evident.

"Saw the race! You looked brilliant, son. That podium finish, about time, eh?"

Lewis' smile widened. "Yeah, feels good, Dad. Finally."

On the other end of the line, Anthony chuckled. "Damn straight. You know, I always knew you'd turn it around, even when things were looking a bit rough. Never doubted you for a second."

Lewis could practically hear the pride in his father's voice. "Means a lot to hear that from you, dad."

Y/n continued massaging the root of his braids as he spoke, her fingers expertly navigating his skin. The rhythmic motion lulled him further, but he made sure to keep the conversation going. They talked about the race, the team's struggles, the upcoming schedule. All the while, she listened, a silent observer in their father-son bond

Finally, after a good ten minutes of conversation, Lewis ended the call. He turned to Y/n, a grateful smile on his face. "Thanks for making me take that."

"Yep" she replied, leaning in to kiss him softly. "He's happy, isn't he?"

"Yeah" Lewis confirmed, pulling her closer. "Proud as punch."

He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of her touch and the afterglow of the conversation.  After a few moments, Lewis spoke again, his voice a soft murmur. “Thank you for being here for me, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N smiled, her heart overflowing with love. “You don’t have to thank me, Lewis. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Lewis closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. “I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he whispered. Y/N leaned down and kissed his forehead again. “And I’m the luckiest woman,” she replied softly. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll wake you later for some food, okay?!”

He hummed in agreement, a content sigh escaping his lips. Silence settled over the room again, a was a comfortable quiet, filled with a sense of peace as he drifted off to sleep once more, the gentle rise and fall of his chest a calming rhythm. Y/n continued massaging his braids, her fingers lingering on the intricate patterns.

As the last rays of sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in a soft golden glow, she kept on watching him sleep. A sense of immense pride welled up within her. She’d borne witness to the challenges this season had thrown at him. She'd seen him at his most frustrated, his most discouraged. Yet, he'd persevered, because that was him, that was the Lewis that had insisted on asking her out until she finally said yes, the Lewis she had fallen in love.

He always rises, no matter what.

______________________________________________________________

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[somedayillbepeterpan]

I have gone down this rabbit hole now and I'm afraid I'm never getting out. I hope I give justice to this. And sorry if this is long.

I've seen a lot of the Colin and Marina vs. Colin and Penelope analyses in here and I want to raise this parallel as to how the Butterfly ball was such a powerful move for both Penelope and Colin. We all have our issues with how they handled Pen and Colin finding their way back to each other but let me add this perspective and hope it helps us understand how real they handled the issue of LW and pushed the character development for them both.

The scene on the left is from S01e06 (Swish) and the right is S03e08 (Into the Light)

S1 scene - Violet is still in her dressing gown, obviously distraught having just read something from LW. She hears someone come down and finds Colin.

S3 scene - Violet is dressed for the morning and her face looks a combination of surprise and confusion after reading a letter. She turns around when she hears someone coming down the stairs.

In both scenes, we see Colin coming down the stairs.

S1 - we only see Colin's back. We're in suspense on what emotional state he is in but we do know that he's on his way to elope with Marina.

In S3 - we see Colin's face immediately looking determined and ready. We see Violet calling his name quite urgently.

S1 - Colin sees his mother's face looking like a combination of disappointment and anger. He asks what's happening. She doesn't say anything but just looks at Colin with a sadness that only a mother can give.

S3 - Violet pointedly says that she received a letter from Colin's wife (I love this line so much) that sounds awfully like "I need you to explain what's happening right now."

S1 - Violet hands Colin LW without saying anything and just looks so so so sad. Colin is shocked to his core because we learn that LW (Pen) exposes Marina's pregnancy and that she has been pregnant from the beginning of the season.

S3 - Colin determinedly faces his mother telling her that they had better sit. And I'm guessing that Colin tells her everything.

Where am I going with this? (Gosh, doing an analysis is hard 😂)

The first time Colin fell in love (thought he fell in love), he was blindsided. But I believe the pain he felt at that time was made deeper because his family had to save him from the situation (Anthony explaining that his actions in the scandal will affect his sisters' prospects as well). To think that it was his mother who first learned of the situation added salt to the wound because we all know that he is a mama's boy and that the one person he dislikes letting down is his mother.

The second (and last time) Colin falls in love, he once again feels betrayed. But he's fallen in love so deeply that he can't imagine his life without Pen. The struggle he goes through in understanding his emotions was very hard to watch and it's because the issue goes beyond his and Pen's relationship. It extends to his family.

Colin's hero complex goes beyond feeling worthy of Pen's love but also worthy of the Bridgerton name. We see it several times in S3 when he mentions it in his confrontation with Portia (" I advise you not to sully our Bridgerton name...") and when Pen tells him that Cressida discovered her secret ("It will besmirch our Bridgerton name. The entire family").

The whole sequence in the study is now more significant because of what Pen addresses in their conversation-- Colin's family ("Your family... the one you so kindly shared with me, they are too good").

Pen's "sacrifice" ("But I can no longer conceal the biggest piece of information I have. My identity."), I believe, was to save the Bridgerton family (once again) and she asks Colin to stand by her as she formulates and executes this plan.

It was very important that Pen wrote a letter to Violet directly and that Colin was there right after she's read it to explain everything. From this point on, they were a team. From this point on, Colin moves in parallel with Pen instead of against it. Colin finally sees that version of Pen that she's always been even while she was LW-- the person who was always determined to save his family just as much as he does.

From this point on, their goals were aligned.

10 rewatches after, I finally see how Colin found his way back to Pen. It wasn't very obvious to me how he got over the feelings of betrayal after he discovered Pen was LW. Of course, him reading the letters help but the events leading up to the Butterfly ball, helped him see her as both Pen and Lady Whistledown and the overflowing pride we see on his face was heart-melting to watch.

From this point on, they finally see each other eye to eye. From this point on, they finally accept this version of each other.

If you got to the end, thanks for reading my humble musings.

*Editing to add this: The Butterfly Ball deep dive series

[cupcakeslushie]

Is Donnie in love with Kendra? Or at least he think he should be? Sorry that one fic that sorta ends with him worshipping her got stuck in my brain but I know its not canon

Donnie sees Kendra as his entire world at the moment. She’s the only positive feedback he gets, and even when she’s slightly disappointed in his performance, it’s heartbreaking for him. He might not be in love with her, or even know the difference between love and his obsessive worship. But when she uses physical touch as a reward, it feels amazing. When she’s unhappy with him, he doesn’t spiral if he can fix it right away, which is usually the case, even if he has to push past his own discomfort or needs.

Kendra uses Donnie’s brothers against him all the time. Asking if Donnie thinks she’s being as mean as them, or why Donnie’s trying to pull away from her, when she’s so much nicer to him than they ever were. Ect.

She definitely enjoys the power trip more. The only reason she’s even so gentle with him, is because he’s so pathetically pliant and eager to follow her every whim.

I came up with this from a prompt from the febuwhump list, and idk I just like fucked up angst, and it seems like enough people do too, so Ive kept feeding it 😂 As crazy as it sounds, it’s probably my most grounded AU just because I have known a lot of manipulative people. So writing Kendra’s dialogue is an interesting exercise in getting it realistic and not too mustache twirling.

They work out of an abandoned warehouse. Donnie stays there, and usually, at least one of the dragons is present. Kendra and Jeremy live there, while Jason spends his time going back and forth, not being as eager to move away from home as Kendra was.

When he’s not doing anything specific for Kendra, Donatello follows whoever around like a little puppy—too scared to really talk much, but also unable to be alone with his negative thoughts. Jeremy and Jace try to act nonchalant, but it’s off putting—having a little creture that was once their enemy, moving in their peripherals constantly.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

why them??

Whenever we visit a new location, there's an in-game reason given for why it's these specific four characters chosen to go! I was eager to see why Vil had Jamil, Azul, and Ace come along with him to an acclaimed film festival... and I was not disappointed 😂

***Tapis Rouge in the Shaftlands spoilers under the cut!!***

So as it turns out, Vil has been invited to the International Film Festival in Fairest City (a significant location for the entertainment and beauty industries). He’s going to promote a movie he’s in that’s releasing next year.

The original plan was for the Film Research Club to accompany Vil and take the chance to learn more about movie productions. However, the club is in the middle of filming for their own project and a change in weather has led to their shoot next week being cancelled. The filming they would have done next week now has to be done this week, so Vil’s club members cannot go on the trip. (Vil himself still has to attend because he is contractually obligated to.)

The other NRC students start to argue over who Vil should take in his club members’ places. The people vying for spots include:

Cater (because the Fairest City is so trendy and always popular on Magicam)

Azul (many famous brands are sold in Fairest City; he has a financial interest in this research)

Lilia (has visited the city before, but never the film festival)

Jade (the city is close to old mines, which he is interested in)

Ace (he loves the idea of going to a fashionable city and “tasting” the celebrity world)

Rook (a lover of movies and dramas; he is curious about the movie studios)

Floyd, Epel, Deuce, Grim (lol it sounds fun to them; Epel also says he has not traveled a lot so he wants to go this time)

Ruggie (FANCY FOOD)

Jamil (wants to take advantage of Vil’s presence to see behind-the-scenes things they don’t normally show; he usually prepares snacks for when Kalim watches movies at one of three at-home theaters but hasn’t had the time to really appreciate the films for what they are himself)

DKJLBHASILYFAYFVQEFIFQEPI; I love the added detail of Jamil telling the others they're inconveniencing their senpai but then Azul cuts in and implies the behavior is a manipulation tactic to show off to Vil how reliable Jamil can be (thus increasing his odds of going while he still maintains his "humility")... Those two just cannot stop getting at each other's throats, I swear 💀 (In part 2, they continue the pettiness when Ace comments that they’re both quick to tease him together, so do they actually get along? Jamil says no but Azul says yes… and the two of them are STILL bullying each other about their personalities once they get their new outfits. Truly not a dull moment with them…)

BUT THIS IS THE REAL STINGER

So since Vil can only pick 5 people to take with him, he says they'll have to prove that they somehow excel over the others. It's then that Azul cooks up a scheme on the spot and recruits Jamil and Ace for it: a lottery! Azul proposes it, has Jamil pitch in, and has Ace prepare the drawings. THIS WORKS ON MULTIPLE LEVELS BECAUSE:

Azul can present the idea as "random" and "fair". This makes him appear like a kind problem solver not wanting to give anyone, not even himself, a leg up.

It would come off as shady if he gets one of the twins (known to be his henchman) to agree with him... so who does Azul get to back him up? Jamil, someone from another dorm, and someone who was passive aggressive with him earlier. This creates a false illusion that others beyond Azul and his dorm believe in the "fairness" of the lottery.

Ace has deft fingers; he a cut a deck of cards--and he can easily rig a lottery since he's in cahoots with Azul, the guy who suggested it to begin with.

This creates a situation where Azul, Jamil, AND Ace get to go to the event. These bitches are mutually benefitting from being collectively sneaky (According to Ace, Yuu and Grim pulled the remaining two slots by coincidence, so they just happen to be "lucky") 🤡 AND THE FUNNIEST PART OF IT ALL IS THAT VIL SUSPECTED THEY WOULD PULL THIS SHIT, BUT HE LET IT HAPPEN ANYWAY SINCE IT'S TECHNICALLY STILL THEM DEMONSTRATING THEIR TALENTS TO HIM...

Truly, bravo... That deserved a standing ovation, gentlemen 👏

[certainlynotasimp]

oh just a little tip, i think it would be wise if you added the spanish translations somewhere inside the fics, this could be at the end or next to the spanish sentence, since you can’t copy text from posts it’s hard to translate since you have to type everything in google translate by hand <33 anyways i loved your fic, you’re very talented and i can’t wait to see more of miguel and his beloved sunshine.

you know what might be funny? if they were on a mission and got hit with a gas that switches their personalities🤣 now that would be something i would pay to see 😂

From Your Point of View

((Miguel O’ Hara x Female! Reader))

A/N: Hello~✨ Thank you so much for the request and the critique. I have now added some translations at the bottom of the fanfics because I forgot how weird tumblr can be about copy and pasting stuff😅. Also I hope that I didn’t disappoint with this as I was kinda struggling on what to write for this one.

-Still haven’t seen the movie so be warned I may get some stuff wrong-

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/Female Pronouns, Barely using (Y/N) ((Sunny is their nickname not their name)), bioweapons, kinda graphic injuries, Outta Character and Outta pocket behavior, and Google Translated Spanish. ((Thank you @22carolina08 for reviewing it before I posted it))

~~~~~~~~~~~

The cackle of women enjoying the fruits of their labors filled the corridor of the abandoned warehouse as they surrounded the machine they were working on. It was a tall glass sphere with some kind of purple dust floating around inside while two titanium computers stood on either side of the device.

The three women standing around it were a set of Green Goblins who jumped from different dimensions to find a universe where there wasn’t an arachnid hero to stop them from using a bomb to take control of the city.

However they didn’t expect there to be four spidermen to be observing them around the property with one little spider hiding along the walls of their lair.

“Lyla,” Miguel whispers as he observes the meeting from the top of another warehouse. “Analyze the contents of that bomb and tell me how bad it is.”

The yellow AI materializes in front of him as Miguel tries to swat her away like a fly, not wanting her to compromise his location. Lyla rolls her eyes and explains, “The dust in that little bomb they have is made from spores of this rare mushroom. It’s been reported that inhaling the spores can cause drastic changes in behavior, mood swings, and mild hallucinations. Most cases detail paitents becoming aggressive and violent.”

Jessica’s voice buzzes through the intercom as she quips, “So they are planning on driving the city into a state of panic?”

“Sounds like it.” Ben Riley gruffs in annoyance. Miguel couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he knows the Scarlet Spider was still pissed that he couldn’t go ahead and stop the goblins.

“Sounds like a party to me, mate.” Hobie cracks as he watches from the ground. “Oi, Sunny, Dear? Wanna crash their party?”

“Yes, a party of people violently hurting each other and causing mass chaos does sound like fun.” Miguel grumbles saracastially before scolding Hobie. “She can’t reply to you, Brown. Not when she’s undercover.”

Miguel can barely make out her outline with the infared of his mask lens, but he can see his little jumping spider wander among the goblins unseen.

A big advantage to have someone with his beloved’s powers. She had almost every trait of the typical spider men, but she had a unique camouflaged ability. Without the suit Miguel made her, she can lower her heart rate and rapidly chill her body temperature so she can remain undetected by infared. She can also go invisible for a few moments without the suit, but both abilities are limited due to how strenuous it was on her being.

The suit allows her to remain undetected for a much longer time and prevents her from putting too much strain on her body. The slight heat the suit emits to keep her body functioning is the only thing that Miguel can use to track her. A major drawback of her gift is that physically she’s not as strong as the others, but she can handle herself in a fight.

Of course, he’s always there to help her. Her protective predator and his gentle prey. A match made in heaven as Jess always jokes.

“(L/N).” Miguel whispers into the com as he watches his love sneak around the device. “Attach the bug I gave you to the main computer so Lyla can deactivate the bomb.”

He makes a signal to the others to tell them to be ready for the ambush. The plan was suppose to be a simple get in and out. The invisible web shooter would get the bomb deactivated while Miguel, Hobie, and Ben rush in and take out the goblins. Jess served as support in case the villains ran past them. It was suppose to be an easy mission. Until it wasn’t.

As the bomb got deactivated, a light beep from the monitor causes the Goblins to turn around and notice that someone tampered with their bomb. Before the little spider could escape, one of the Goblins throws a jack o lantern explosive at her, causing the glass vial to exploded.

Miguel’s blood ran cold as he witnesses his love engulfed in black and purple smoke, and all reason went out the window as he rushed into the contaminated warehouse to save her.

“Miguel, wait!” Jessica screams out she drives her bike in front of the other two spidermen trying to rush in.

“What gives, Drew?” Hobie snaps, concern burning in his eyes. “We gotta get in there.”

“Not without these.” She snaps back as she hands the boys four sets of gas masks. “Lyla said it’s transmitted through air. Hurry up and put these on.”

Ben grumbles and slams the mask on before running in while Hobie and Jessica share a look. “You think Sunny will be alright?” The spiked spider asks as he places the gas mask on his already covered face.

“She better be.” Jessica sighs. “I definitely don’t want to find out how Miguel will react if she wasn’t.”

With that Hobie runs in while Jessica calls for backup to help contain the spores seeping from the windows.

~~~~~~~~

“Vitals appear to be normal.” Spider-Doc mutters to the three spider people surrounding one of the hospital beds. “O’Hara and (L/N) are both looking good on blood pressure and brain activity, so I expect them to wake up anytime soon.”

Thankfully, Hobie and Ben managed to capture the green goblin trio and reinforcements came just in time to contain the spread of the bio weapon. However, both Miguel and his companion were found bloody and unconscious when they found them.

The beloved spider woman had most of the damage with several shards of glass impaled into her back and arm while gaining a severe concussion. The team figured that in the rush of the moment and his vision obscured by the cloud of dust, the goblins took Miguel by surprise and got him with three sharp projectiles while he was trying to help Sunny.

Despite the horrific scene, both of them were deemed to be alright after some surgery and the only physical damage was Sunny’s now broken arm, which should heal in about a week thanks to the signature spiderman super healing. The only worry was the psychological damage.

Both were definitively exposed to large quantities of the gas and from what Lyla had said about the mental effects of the spores, they were worried about an invisible spider and her beast of a companion tearing everything apart.

Jessica sighs as she sadly gazes at the broken and restrained bodies of her friends as Hobi places a small bear on his little friend’s bed.

“Didn’t Lyla say anything about how that antitoxin is coming along?” Peter says as he bites his nail.

Spider-Doc nods as his lens shifts to appear like he’s hopefully smiling. “Lyla has said thanks to the samples from their suits, an antitoxin will be finished in two days.”

“Two days?!” Hobie snaps up. “We are about to have two spidermen possibly going on a rampage if we piss them off. I don’t think we can wa-“

A soft groan emits from the bed beside the ranting anarchist and everyone’s attention breaks from the poor doctor and onto the small spider. Her eyes flutter open as she frowns at her surroundings.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Jessica soothes as she helps the disoriented girl sit up in her bed.

“I’m fine.” The girl said in an unusually blunt way. Her eyes now harden in an annoyed expression as she looks around at the group. “Next time, you guys should be more considerate to someone recovering from having their shit rocked.” She scolds before growling at the pain.

The sight of the sweet girl now acting so bothered towards their presence was so unsettling, but not unexpected. They were aware the sweet girl they knew was gonna be changed by the gas, but it’s still disturbing.

As they all stare at the glaring girl, a deep groan comes from the bed next to her as her attention focuses on her love. Her anger emerges as she snaps back to the spiders.

“What the fuck did y’all do to him?! Was it that asshole Ben Riley? I’m gonna kick his ass if he’s the reason my Miggy is in-“

“Cariño?” A soft mutter causes her verbal rampage to end as a pair of ruby eyes focused on her. Once she meets his eyes, an uncharacteristically soft grin comes over his face as he mumbles sweetly. “Hola, mi niña bonita, ¿cómo te sientes?””

“I’m fine.” The girl mumbles as she tries to keep her stern face while a little dusting of blush takes over. “What about you?”

Miguel chuckles at her face and gently reaches over and caresses her hand as he swoons, “Siento que puedo enfrentarme a un toro ahora que he visto tu hermoso rostro, mi amor.”

The group of spidermen looked at Miguel horrified as he looks up at them. Expecting him to snap at them or try and escape his restrains, but he doesn’t do either. He gives them a bright friendly smile as he cheers, “Oh, you guys made it out alright. I’m glad we are all still here together. Great job, everyone.”

Hobie backs up a couple of steps trying to calm his raging heart before he had a heart attack from the shock. Jessica looks at him disturbed as she silently records the duo on her phone to show her husband later. Peter calls Lyla on his gizmo as his face looses all color.

The AI emerges out of the gizmo with a cheery, “Hello~ you ringed?”

“What’s wrong with Miguel?” Peter snaps as he hears Sunny immediately yell at him about what he said about her Miggy.

“Oh I meant to warn you about that. Well the aggression is on a most case scenario kinda thing, not an every case thing. Since Miguel is more genetically altered with spider than Little Miss Sunshine, his natural aggression cancels out the one caused by the bio weapon.” The assistant explains.

Hobie laughs at this as he looks at the now confused Miguel, “So our big bad leader is as harmless as a kitten now?”

“Yep.” Lyla giggles. “And because our sunny pants there was as dangerous as a jumping spider before this, she’s now part of the majority percentaile.”

“What the fuck did you say about Migue, you twig?!” The formerly harmless girl bucks in her restraints as her protective nature causes her to want to thrash the punk star.

“Mi amor, por favor cálmate... No está tratando de ser grosero…” A now teary eyed Miguel tries to sooth his partner in a shaky calm voice.

That was when Jessica realized a mistake they made. When they restrained the pair earlier, Miguel was placed in titanium bands that crossed over his chest, arms, legs and hips. Since Sunny wasn’t considered a ‘major’ threat in comparison, she was just held down by some chains.

Because of this, the earth deafening sound of chains shattering cause all of the spiders to scream. The AI giggles as she responds,

“I forgot to mention that the chemical not only increases aggression, but also physical strength. In humans, they would just be slightly stronger than normal, but in Miss (Y/N)’s case…”

The rest couldn’t hear what else Lyla had to say as Hobie started booking it down the hall with a pissed off Sunny hot on his heels. Jessica frantically tries to undo Miguel’s restraints as he cries for his lover to come back.

Peter sighs and asks, “How much longer until the antidote is ready?”

“I can rush it for you. Should take another 3 hours hopefully.”

“Do you have any tranquilizers?” Peter asks as a now free Miguel tries to chase down his angry lover.

“No~”

~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Hola, mi niña bonita, ¿cómo te sientes? - Hello, my pretty girl, how are you feeling?

Mi amor, por favor cálmate... No está tratando de ser grosero…- My love, please calm down...He's not trying to be rude…

Siento que puedo enfrentarme a un toro ahora que he visto tu hermoso rostro, mi amor.- I feel like I can take on a bull now that I've seen your beautiful face, my love.

~~~~~~~~~~

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[two-white-butterflies]

jasmine wind | c16

Description: Being in love with an f1 driver was supposed to be easy - but for some reason, your father doesn't like him.

Pairing: charles leclerc/wolff!reader

"Bebe," Charles giggled while staring at your new profile picture. He was only joking when he replied to your tweet - he was pleasantly surprised to see you take it seriously. "It's a cute picture, no?" you narrowed your eyes teasingly while pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Very cute, now I'll have to change my profile into your picture." he chuckled, quickly opening his twitter to change his icon.

You were surprised to be awoken by the sound of your phone ringing. A groan escaped your mouth - slowly adjusting to the artificial light of the lampshade. You reached for your phone - accepting the call without looking at the one calling. "Hello," your voice sounded hoarse from the rude awakening. "Schatz," you heard your father's voice.

A louder sigh escapes your mouth - you already memorized his lines. He'd start off by asking about your wellbeing - then the conversation would drift towards Charles. "How are you?" he inquired in a polite tone, you could hear the coffee pot from the other side of the call.

"I'm fine," you decided to be civil - turning to the other side of the bed where your fiancee was peacefully sleeping. Gods, you didn't even tell your parents that the wedding was happening in a few months.

"Are you eating your vegetables?" Toto asked, taking a sip of his coffee. "Yes," you replied in a whisper. "How's uhh - Charles?" he asked with reluctance, seeing that he was a sore topic. "He's alright, Pa. He's sleeping." you chuckled - closing Charles' mouth before he could turn into a mouth breather.

This was the perfect time to tell him about the wedding.

"There's something that I want to tell you," you take a deep breath - praying to Jesus that he'd approve. Praying that your relationship returns to its old form.

"What is it?"

"Charles and I are getting married - after the race in Monaco." you informed, and he replies with a deep disappointed sigh. "Did he propose to you?" he questioned and you nodded - mind not working properly to understand that he couldn't see you.

Judging by the silence, he knew that Charles did.

"- and he didn't ask for my permission, or your mother's?" Toto began to scold you. A frown formed at the top of your forehead - yes, Charles was wrong for not asking him - but it wasn't like he'd approve. "We're in the 21st Century, I can't believe you're about to start a fight over this." you scoff.

"Bye, Pa - I'll see you after Spa." you hang up.

"I don't want to think about that right now," you continued cooking the fried rice. "He's your father, and he was right. I should apologize." your boyfriend replied - placing his homemade ice cream on the fridge. "No." you responded firmly.

If Charles apologizes now then Toto would believe that he'd be right all the other times. "It could've gone better, but I'm glad that it's over. I gave him an invitation so he's the one to decide whether or not he attends. I don't care." you groan - he wraps his arms around your waist. He could read you like an open book.

Deep inside he could see that you were hurting.

"I'm here for you, alright." he whispered.

He'd know the truth in due time.

(AFTER MONACO, THE DAY OF THE WEDDING)

yn_leclerc: ready for married life.

maid of

29 comments 124,390 likes

Charles_Leclerc: already changed the last name 💗😂 - yn_leclerc: in advance too

ganggangchiken: all the other celebs do lavish weddings but they're the only ones who's driving to court with 5 guests 😭

You couldn't stop the tears that threatened to fall. It just flowed endlessly at the sight of your father. "Did you really think that I'd miss your wedding?" he raised an eyebrow, standing up from the bench right outside the courthouse.

He was clad in blue suit - smiling at you and Charles.

[meanbossart]

You know the Hag casts Vicious Mockery, right? Some of her lines are really fucking mean, lol. To Astarion, she says, "Deep down, you like to be leashed, don't you?" and there's another about the stink of rats on him. To a male drow player, she says something like, "On your knees, boy, just like the matriarchs taught you." She's got something for every race and class, and special stuff for companions.

Anyway. What is something personal and deeply hurtful that she might say to Drow to derail him?

What are his triggers in general, if any? Stuff that will anger him "randomly", in the sense that someone close to him might not understand why he was triggered (and perhaps he might not understand either)?

I had know no clue actually LOL since I found out you can cast silence on her and kill her in two turns I have never given that woman much time to get a word in 😂

DU drow is, unsurprisingly, pretty volatile. Earlier in the campaign when he's fresh off the nautiloid I could think of a few things that may set him off quickly (later, and in ANE, he's much more subdued though, and it depends more on who says it and the kind of day that he's having lol)

Some things that get particularly on his nerves:

-Belittling him, implying that his body and attitude are just a front for his weaknesses. The fastest way to buy a fight with him is to just laugh at everything he says and does and not take him seriously at all. -He's at times insecure about making his loved one's (Astarion & Shadowheart's) lives worse by being around them. Present him any example of how that may be true and you'll have a very sad/angry drow. -Treat him like a wounded animal that just needs a hug and a pet and he'll get all better, it will annoy him even if you have good intentions. -Insist on something after he says "no". Even a little bit. Even if it's silly. You can speedrun any of these by being a female drow. SO for the actual crux of the question, here's a few strong contenders for Vicious Mockery lines that Ethel could blast DU drow with (CONTENT WARNING: IT'S AUNTIE ETHEL.) :

-"Bark, bark, bark, little dog, It don't make you look any scarier"

-"You trying to kill me or fuck me? Or kill me to fuck me? Or fuck me to kill me, pork-chop? "

-(Imitating a crying baby) "That's what you sound like to everyone around you, little boy."

-"Daddy's gonna be so, so disappointed. I'd clench up my hole, if I were you."

-"Such big swings for a drooling, inbred lech."

[meowzfordayz]

hic-cup

Author’s Note: sending get-well-soon vibes to anyone currently experiencing the hiccups. ���😂

hic-cup

Hashira x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~1,100

CW: dark humor

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Recently work has been very hectic, and I've been a little anxious about personal things...I really would like something cute! If possible, could you either do the Hashira, KNY squad, or the upper moons (you can pick! You write all of them super well!) With a reader who has bad, but very cute, hiccups?

~faqs~

When you have the hiccups…

… Zenitsu thinks you’re dying. Well. Not really, but the way you gasp for air and clutch your chest has him worried and running to get you water nonetheless. If you lie down on the floor, then he will lie down with you and press his ear to your heart, listening for irregularities.

… Inosuke’s overwhelmed by the urge to poke and squish and smoosh and squeeze you. “Stop that!” he growls, arms crossed irritatedly. “Stop wh-*hiccup*-what?” you huff. “THAT!” he shouts, pointing an accusing finger at you, “You sound so, so, so-” “So what?” “SO CUTE.” Eyes widening, your cheeks warm, nose scrunching, “Ino-*hiccup*suke, I-” “It’s like you want me to pop you,” he grumbles. “Pop me?????” “Stop being adorable so I can stop wanting to kill you.”

… Gyomei simply smiles every time you hiccup. Do not ask him to smack them out of you… a broken rib (or three) is much worse than the hiccups. “Pleeease? They won’t go awaaay!” “My love, you really shouldn’t ask me to harm you.” “Harm me?!” you scoff, “Don’t you have control or something?” Affronted, he nods slowly, “I suppose I have control…” “SO HIT ME.” Sighing, he lightly pats your back, whiiich doesn’t help, but it’s the thought that counts!

… Obanai pretends to be annoyed, but is lowkey disappointed when they eventually go away. “Shut up,” he scowls, glaring as you do your best to swallow another hiccup. “Can’t,” you mutter, flicking his shoulder, “They won’t g-*hiccup*-go away.” “Then I’ll make them,” he mutters darkly. “Oh really?” you raise an eyebrow, amused now, “And how exactly will you make them go away?” His mouth opens, closes, and opens again, exhaling loudly in defeat. “Admit it, they’re kinda cute,” you grin, nudging his side, “I’m kinda cute.” He doesn’t respond, opting instead to quickly peck your cheek, blushing profusely even as his glare deepens.

… Tanjirou has a plethora of ideas to ~help you. From having you chug a glass of cold water, finding a paper bag for you to breathe into, slicing a lemon for you to bite into, attempting to jump scare you, and making you hold your breath until you nearly pass out, he’s ultimately sorely defeated by your hiccups’ persistence. Hiccups 1: Tanjirou 0. When they finally disappear, you promptly credit his expertise and efforts, regardless of how delayed their effectiveness was.

… Mitsuri giggles until she also ends up with the hiccups. You’re just so darn beautiful, and your hiccups sound so darn happy! Like yawning near each other, if one of you hiccups, then the other is bound to follow.

… Shinobu offers you a sympathetic, “Oh dear,” paired with a fond smile, and continues about her day. If they’re persistent, then she’ll utilize the placebo effect in an attempt to help aka she’ll give you “medicine” (it’s sugar water, but sometimes it helps). Occasionally, she’ll ~threaten you, “If you hiccup again, then no kisses!” to a lesser degree of success, but it’s mostly endearing to watch you try so hard and fail so miserably (if this actually bothers you, then she only does it once, but it’s really just an inside joke).

… Kyojuro tries to get himself to hiccup too, but the man is Hiccup Proof™. “What’s your secret?!” you whine playfully, pouting as another hiccup jolts your body, “I swear you inhale all your meals, but never experience the hiccups!” “I keep nothing from you,” he frowns slightly, pressing a reassuring kiss to your cheek, “If I could provide better help, then I certainly would!” “Kyo, it was a rhetorical question.” “Rhetorical or not, if I knew a secret, then I would tell you!” “Sooo remind me to never tell you any secrets,” you chuckle, eyebrow raising pointedly. “My love, your secrets are safe with me!” he exclaims earnestly. “Just not anyone else’s?” you drawl teasingly. He pauses to consider your remark, and then shrugs nonchalantly, “Precisely.”

… Sanemi taxes you, and it increases exponentially. “Pay up,” he smirks, palm held upright toward you, “I heard that.” “Y’know, hiccuping isn’t a crime,” you mutter. “And you didn’t have to play along,” he grins smugly, “But you did.” “Well I felt badly about distracting you,” you retort, frowning as a thought occurs to you, “Although, now you’ve changed tasks completely!” “Have I?” he questions lightly, eyes widening innocently. “Yeah, all you’re focusing on is my hiccups and extorting me for spare change!” “If you stop hiccuping, then I could return to my earlier task.” “I can’t just st-*hiccup*-stop!” you whine, still dropping more coins into his hand, “You’re the worst.” “I love you,” he deadpans, winking as he pockets your money, “Maybe I’ll buy you something nice with my extra income.”

… Muichiro says, “Bless you,” after every single one. “But Muichiro, I didn’t snee-*hiccup*-sneeze!” “Bless you.” “Why are you-” “When you sneeze, for a moment, your soul leaves your body, and the blessing is to prevent it from being stolen, yes?” … “Yes?” “When you hiccup, are you not running the same risk?” … “No?” Unperturbed, he shrugs, smiling faintly, “Well, I appreciate you and your hiccups, so I suppose blessing you is my way of expressing my appreciation.”

… Giyuu’s constantly startled, even when you’re occupying the same space. *hiccup* Ah! his eyes widen, a subtle yet observable reaction to your sudden noisiness. *hiccup* Ah! he blinks, another subtle yet observable reaction. *hiccup* “Are you faking it?” he finally mutters, cheeks faintly flushed as he fixes a gentle stare on you. “Faking w-*hiccup*-what?!” “Your hiccups.” “Why would I fake having the hiccups???” “Never mind.” “Am I bothering you?” “Not quite,” he murmurs, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand, “I hope they go away soon.” Smiling fondly, you raise his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles, “Me t-*hiccup*-too!” No way is he admitting they ~frighten him.

… Tengen claps excitedly, enthusiastically celebrating your ~unique sound. “How flashy, my dear!” he exclaims with a grin. “Flashy?” you blink, unimpressed. “Hiccups are so rare and so fun!” he explains, “What an interesting phenomenon!” “You have a thing for hiccups,” you deadpan, eyes rolling. “Not at all! I’m just trying to support you through this unfortunate event.” Scoffing, you poke at his chest, “Sooo are my hiccups flashy or unfortunate?” “Both!”

[chukys-mouthguard]

#3, a little angst that ends with fluff, for Mat Barzal

Prompt: “I wish you were here with me.”

Note: I don’t know if my brain will ever fully get used to spelling his name with one ‘t’…but like that’s such a mat barzal thing idk why that’s so him in my opinion 😂

“Yeah it was a pretty fun day, I’m exhausted though. I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of bed in the morning.” 

Mat finally finished telling you all about the fun he had at the skills competition. The guest celebrities he got to meet, the freebies that brands were gifting out to the players. Though you knew he wasn’t bragging, it still hurt your feelings hearing how much fun he was having. 

You were supposed to go with him for the All Star Game, but something came up with work and you were forced to stay home. He knew how much you were looking forward to going, and of course you were proud of him for getting picked, you missed not being able to celebrate moments like this along with him. 

“Yeah, sounds like you had quite a fun day babe.” 

Mat could hear the bit of disappointment lacing your words as you sighed into the phone. He felt bad for bragging, but he was just so excited to tell you about his day that he’d neglected to sympathize with how you were still upset. 

“I wish you were here with me.” 

His words coming out a bit like an afterthought as he tried to cheer you up, only to make you more frustrated. 

“I’m sure you do, though it sounds like you had a great day without me. Meeting celebrities, getting tons of freebies from brands, hanging out with the guys. Definitely sounds like you were missing me Mat. But don’t worry because I’m sure we will make plans for me to come with you to the awards in Vegas, or overseas for some upcoming tournament, or god knows what else. But, per usual something will come up and I won’t be able to join you and support you.” 

Mat remained silent on his end of the phone call, letting you vent and say whatever you needed to. These frustrations being something you’d had for awhile. Your job unfortunately not always being one to let you miss work, especially when you had important deadlines or projects that needed done. 

“Well, I meant what I said…but I’m sorry you don’t think so.” 

He didn’t mean to say anything snarky back to you, but it just slipped out. He was frustrated that you felt like he didn’t want you there to experience these things with him. 

“Mat, I didn’t say that. I just, I want to support you. To be there to experience all these achievements and special moments. But it’s like I can never catch a break with work. And I feel like I’m not being the best girlfriend I can be if I can’t even have a weekend to fly out and see you in an all star game like every other girlfriend or wife can.” 

One thing Mat was never okay with was you comparing yourself to other girlfriends or wives. Was he upset that you felt he was insincere wishing you were there, sure. But he knew you were just frustrated. He would be too if he was in your shoes. But to hear you call yourself a bad girlfriend or not supportive enough, that hurt him. 

“Baby, you are the most supportive person in my life. Who gives a fuck what other girlfriends and wives do. You’re my girlfriend, and you do more than enough to support me. You refuse to stop working because you don’t want to be someone who lives off their boyfriend, and I admire the fuck out of that. Half the girls dating guys in this league aren’t like you. And that’s why I love you so much. I’m sorry for being snarky, I just, I hate that you feel like you need to be like the others. Because you’re perfect for me, just the way you are.” 

Smiling into the phone, you calmed down a bit as you needed that reassurance from Mat. He always reminded you that you were different, in the best way. And that’s why he loved you so much. 

“Now, enough about my day, tell me about this work project and how fucking amazing my boss ass girlfriend did.”

[anystalker707]

Another night in the pantry

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gn, amab] Reader Summary: Sanji is really needy, wanting a good fuck from you Tags: baby girl sanji / bottom sanji / whimpering / crying / overstimulation / degradation

Requested by anon ["Can you please write sanji x male top reader and sanji is jus a whimpering mess wit overstimulation and a humiliation/degradation kink 😂😂☝🏽☝🏽..."]

MASTERLIST

          Sanji’s uneven breathing resonated through the cramped room, muffled by the items lined up along the shelves on the wooden walls and the sound of the gentle waves outside. The strip of moonlight that slipped through the small circular window lit up the room just enough without attracting the attention of whoever darted around in the middle of the night, and whoever was in the crow’s nest this time was too far to notice anything happening there.

The pantry quietly witnessed another encounter between you, in which Sanji once again lay back against the wooden boxes while you stood between his spread legs with your lips attached to his neck. Sanji’s shoes and tie were already discarded somewhere else, some buttons of his shirt open to make way for your lips.

A particularly loud whimper came from Sanji, resembling a muffled moan, as his back arched off the surface. He breathed through his mouth a couple of times, hands tightening around your shirt as he groaned in frustration, pulling you closer with both his arms and legs wrapping around you. His erection ground more against yours through the layers of clothes, but the motion dragged slowly this time.

“Please, my love, please,” he breathed against your neck with a soft cry, dampening your skin more than the sweat already had. “I’ll do anything for you, my love, my life, please, I need you,” he babbled in a whiny tone as he gasped for air, with a long moan as he arched his back again.

“Damn,” you whispered as you stood up properly and took your shirt off, much to Sanji’s pleasure as he eyed you hungrily. Your cock strained against your pants too painfully already, so maybe it was time to finally give in to Sanji’s pleas, and he seemed to catch on to your intentions, eyes sparkling with anticipation as he observed you with his breath caught in his throat and propped up on his elbows.

Sanji’s eyes followed your hands as they undid each button of his blue shirt, then did the same with his pants. He gasped in anticipation, but the soft sound was replaced by an embarrassed groan when you pulled his pants and underwear down, revealing his hard and damp cock. It made you raise your eyebrows, biting your lip.

“Damn, look at the mess you made…” Your finger trailed up his cock, gathering a little of the sticky cum on it, before you stuck your finger into your mouth to lick it clean; he whimpered more at something as simple as it. “Still cumming inside your pants? How old are you, Sanji? Damn it…”

That was a hot sight, honestly, making your cock throb in its confines once again. Sanji had cummed earlier when you started dry-humping him, since he’d already been hard for a while before he finally started begging as you told him to, and it clearly hadn’t been enough. His cock twitched under your gaze as he chanted more pleas under his breath.

“Really can’t contain yourself, right?” You muttered, finishing taking Sanji’s pants and underwear all the way down so that you could spread his legs properly—given his flexibility, it was an easy job. “What made you so horny today? Been daydreaming in the kitchen instead of doing your damn job? Are you even good for anything at all?” You clicked your tongue in disappointment while running your thumb along the underside of his cock, pressing your knuckle to the hot skin.

Sanji let out a shaky breath at the same time his thighs quivered, threatening to close around your hand, but they stopped by your sides. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, my love,” he whined, pressing his eyes shut and letting himself rest on his back again, throwing his arms above himself.

“What if I left you here and gave up on touching you, hm?” You questioned just to hear that answer once more, running your hand up and down his stomach, feeling the skin move under your palm with each breath.

With a small groan escaping his lips, his eyebrows twitched a little, furrowing more. “...Whatever you want, my love.”

“You’re so pathetic, Sanji,” you said with a sigh, shaking your head. “You should be ashamed of being like this. So stupid.” Your hand held his face this time, squishing his cheeks together to make him look at you, and he didn’t even need to be told anything, cracking his eyes open to look at you. “I’d be ashamed if I were you. Are you ashamed, Sanji? Can’t even stand up for yourself.”

Sanji’s face burned vividly, and he was thankful you couldn’t see his red face in the darkness, or else it’d be another reason for you to tease him… Or maybe it was unfortunate. Your cruel words managed to always send hot waves of arousal down his spine and make his cock twitch, as much as he tried to pretend not to like it. He finally nodded in agreement with your words, feeling shame and arousal burn inside him simultaneously.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered against his lips, pecking them briefly. “I love you anyway.”

A hopeless sound came from Sanji as he let his head slowly fall back once you let go of it, his heart fluttering at the same time his cock twitched, and he waited for more from you. Just his hand or dry-humping wasn’t enough for him—he needed you to touch and use him until you were satisfied, no matter how sensitive his cock already felt.

There was lube hidden behind the boxes because of the frequent encounters, and you made a mental note of getting a new one when noticing the remaining liquid only reached under a fourth of the bottle, but it was still enough to cover your cock in a decent amount of it and pour some over Sanji’s awaiting hole. Just the feeling of the cold lube against his skin was enough to snatch another whimper from Sanji.

“You’re like a pretty toy, Sanji,” you said as your thumb pressed to his hole, flat, without enough pressure to actually push in, though it was already enough for his thighs to quiver a little. “Here to be used whenever I need to get off, right? Though you’re quite needy sometimes…” You raised your eyebrows lightly, pushing your index finger into Sanji instead. He gasped, walls tightening around your finger while all you did was spread the lube around instead of fingering him as he wished. “Were you made to be fucked by me, baby? Because it sure does feel like it, sometimes.”

Playfulness laced both your voice and actions, with that touch of malice that made Sanji’s head spin. He groaned, chest rising and falling as he panted, shirt clinging to his sweaty skin; a perfect mess that you’d made yourself. Your eyes lingered on the marks over his neck and chest while pride swelled in you, making you smile a little before finally pressing the tip of your cock to his hole.

Sanji gasped, squirming at the littlest touch, but he quickly stayed still before you could say anything, obediently. He gasped at the intrusion, at the same time the pleased sounds also escaped from your lips with how his walls clenched and accommodated around your cock.

“Tight,” you breathed, observing Sanji whimper and arch his back, pressing his eyes shut as his hands closed around nothing. It made you wonder what made him want you so badly, a worry that was quickly pushed to the back of your mind and overtaken by the need to fuck him.

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you started moving. The first thrusts were tentative and messy, with pauses between them so that you could process the waves of pleasure that Sanji’s ass sent running down your spine. If you weren’t careful, you were going to cum fast, so you took a deep breath before finally being able to settle down for a steady rhythm. “Good,” you breathed.

You wrapped Sanji’s leg around your waist by bringing it up with a hand under his thigh, finding a new angle that made him go all tight around your cock as his thighs quivered more. His hands found the edges of the wooden boxes and clung to them, finally finding something to ground him through the intense pleasure.

“Ahh, my love, I can’t—” Sanji cried out softly, unable to hold himself back before he was cumming again, making you raise your eyebrows and observe it in surprise while the hot and sticky cum spilled all over his torso while your cock still pounded into him. A sound that reminded you of a sob escaped Sanji’s lips, but you kept going when nothing that resembled the safe word escaped his lips. “Please,” he breathed as his eyes opened briefly, with pretty blue orbs staring at you with a need that still lingered.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you made the thrusts more intense, making Sanji’s body gently rock every time your hips met the back of his thighs. He arched his back as strings of whines dripped from his lips, mixed with something that sounded like your name, if you paid attention enough.

“Again, Sanji? You’re so fucking greedy today,” he groaned, clicking your tongue as you ran your free hand up and down his side, giving his waist a light squeeze. “Mmm, good thing I am here for you, right? Or else what? I bet you’d go back to fucking your hand all day long while thinking about some girl who probably thinks you’re gross.”

Something like a cry mixed with a moan came from Sanji, and as much as he could attempt to deny anything, the way his ass clenched around your cock proved how much he loved your cruelty. He pressed a hand over his mouth as your thrusts got more powerful, trying to muffle the high-pitched cries that escaped his throat, but you grasped his wrist and pulled his hand away.

“Let them hear you,” you said with a grin, “let your dear Nami-swan know you like it up the ass so much. What will she think of you, hm?” Of course, no one would listen unless someone was darting around late at night—which was highly improbable—, but it was nice torturing him like that, even more so when it made his back arch so deliciously. “Fuck, hot,” you whispered, speeding up your thrusts.

A few tears escaped Sanji’s eyes, but you judged it was from the overstimulation as well, from keeping going through all those orgasms. Either way, he kept going strongly, cock still hard, flushed, and swollen as it twitched and leaked pre-cum whenever your cock hit deep inside him. The leftover cum made his tip glisten, and you bit your lip with a groan. The tone of Sanji’s flushed cock almost matched the way his nipples were bright red from the abuse, and the hickeys on his skin.

“I’m going to cum, Sanji, baby,” you breathed, “and I want you to cum with me.”

“Yes, mon amour, please,” Sanji said between moans, arching his back more, but nothing compared to the way he squirmed when your hand wrapped around his already sensitive cock and started stroking it. You could only imagine how the overstimulation affected Sanji, snatching louder and whinier sounds from his lips as more tears trailed down his face, while his ass clenched around your cock more, milking it.

“Mmm, I’m— Nngh, b—” Sanji could barely form anything coherent, and seeing him like that made your cock twitch more inside him, the arousal rising in your lower stomach. His eyebrows furrowed under the hair that stuck to his forehead due to the sweat, and he couldn’t even stop pressing his eyes shut.

Finally, a louder and longer moan escaped Sanji’s lips before he was cumming once again—the cum was now clear as it added up to the other load that already covered his torso, and Sanji’s thighs trembled. Seeing that was enough to make your balls tighten, and you were cumming as well, gasping as you came inside Sanji, continuing thrusting to make sure your cum was deep inside him and that you were well satisfied.

Sanji still whimpered after he came down from his high; his body shuddered with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and he didn’t ask for more this time.

“Fuck,” you whispered, stepping back to tuck your cock back into your pants before giving proper attention to Sanji. You sighed, sitting up on the box so that you could reach him, cupping his face and peppering it with kisses. “Poor thing,” you whispered, wiping the tears away from his face. “Are you good now?”

Sanji nodded faintly, blinking a couple of times as he looked at you, still struggling to catch his breath, sniffling occasionally.

“Good boy,” you whispered, kissing the tip of his nose. “I’ll clean you up, and then we can get some cuddles.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[houserautha]

This Body, This Flesh

Summary: You thought what you wanted more than anything was for Feyd-Rautha to return from the dead. You were wrong.

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of fighting and death, angsty, some kissing

A/N: Dune Wiki describes a ghola as, “an artificially created human, who was replicated from a dead individual”. When I first read about a ghola in “Dune Messiah” (I’m reading the series for the first time, like a bandwagon fan) I thought it posed so many interesting possibilities and unnecessary angst😂😈 Excuse any inaccuracies

Feyd-Rautha was dead.

You had been there when Paul Atreides slipped the crysknife into the soft flesh of his jaw and into his skull.

So then why was he standing in front of you?

Your knees quiver. Was your mind playing a trick on you? Perhaps your grief had warped your sanity. You close your eyes, shake your head as if to dislodge the vision.

“Go away,” you choke out. “I know you’re not real.”

The Feyd-Rautha — if it could be called that, he certainly was a figment of your imagination — tilts his head slightly in a move purely reminiscent of your lover. “You are not pleased to see me,” he rasps, the same voice you heard when you could not sleep, haunting your dreams.

You feel the burn of tears behind your eyes. You close them. “Of course I’m pleased to see you. But you — you’re not real.”

“Maybe not as I once was.”

In the distance, the sound of fervent footsteps slapping the ground, accompanied by panicked breathing, force you to open your eyes. It’s a servant. A young one, wide-eyed and reddened, either by shame or exertion or both.

“Lady Y/N, my humblest apologies —”

You snap at him, “What is this?”

“Lady Y/N —”

“I am a gift. For you,” Feyd-Rautha says. His dark eyes are unsettlingly familiar, studying you as you grapple for a response.

“What is he…?” Your eyes flicker to him, then back to the servant, “…it… talking about?”

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest. This morning you lay awake, blinking the sun and tear-prompted crust from your eyes, and thought only of seeing Feyd-Rautha again. And now he was here. Your mind refused to cooperate with your battling emotions, waging war within you.

“I was supposed to explain, Lady Y/N. I apologize. I tried to stop him but he insisted on coming here straight away.” The servant shuffles his feet. “I-I couldn’t outrun him. He is a gift. A ghola. From the Bene Tleilax.”

A ghola.

Of course.

The foolish, childish hope that the real Feyd-Rautha had miraculously been resurrected slowly wanes, slipping through your fingers. Your chin wobbles as devastation seizes you.

The servant, mistaking your stunned silence, eagerly adds, “The Baron wanted you to have him.”

You offer a stiff nod. “Thank you. You may leave us.”

“Should I extend your gratitude to the Baron?”

“No.” On a different occasion, you might’ve ripped the boy’s head from his neck for proposing such a thing and implicating your rudeness. “Leave.”

The servant scurries away.

Feyd-Rautha is watching you closely, but does not speak.

You, on the other hand, are afraid that if you don’t you might tear apart at the seams. “How…How much do you remember?”

The urge to cross the space between you to touch him, to touch the fatal spot where the knife had slid in, robbing you of him, is too strong. You hope he doesn’t notice you staring. To refrain from indulging in the urge, your hands clench into fists at your sides.

“Not much,” the ghola admits. “Just…fleeting glimpses.” His gaze sweeps your surroundings, landing on you in almost a pleading way, like he’s hoping that you will give him answers. “I needed to come here. To you.”

“This was our room,” you tell him. You hesitate. “Do you remember me?”

“You’re Lady Y/N.”

Disappointment stabs at your heart. “You don’t.”

Feyd-Rautha — no, the ghola (you mustn’t let yourself think of them as one and the same) — shakes his head. “No.”

A strangled sob escapes from you unwittingly, and you turn away.

A gift? No. This was the most severe punishment: The man you loved returned to you, but with no memories of the life you shared, none of the substance that had initially captivated you about the na-Baron. The voice, the features — every goddamn look and gesture, but nothing more than a Bene Tleilax puppet.

“I may not remember you, but something in this flesh does.”

Hope flutters traitorously in your chest. “What?”

“I don’t know how to explain it.” The ghola takes a tentative step toward you. “I may not recall the memories of your past together but this body standing before you, this flesh, carries the echos of your bond. In this physical form, I am a testament to the love you once knew, a vessel for those memories.”

Moved by the ghola’s admittance, tears flow freely down your cheeks now. “You kept saying…you. Not our.”

Of course he didn’t. Why did you mention it?

“Yes.” His jaw clenches. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh bitterly. “Don’t apologize. Feyd never would’ve done that.”

Feyd-Rautha — what remains of Feyd-Rautha, anyway — flashes you a look of regret. Guilt. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, Lady Y/N. I can leave.”

“No, please, don’t,” you say. You scrub the tears from your face, embarrassed by the display of vulnerability. “None of this is your fault.”

“May I come in?”

He had been standing in the threshold of the doorway, reminding you of the many times that Feyd had done the very same thing, discussing battle strategy and politics and even lovemaking. You avert your gaze and wave him in, hoping he didn’t see the sudden blaze of your cheeks.

However, you notice him stride past in your peripheral identically to your lover and settle on the edge of the bed. To keep yourself from further jabs of pain, you feign an interest in the view outside the window, fingers tapping restlessly on the pane.

“What was he like?” The ghola asks finally.

“You don’t know?”

You pose the question carefully, hopefully in a manner of nonchalance. What would the ghola think of their bloody origin? It must be terrible to belong to someone else entirely. Especially someone such as Feyd, who answered with his blade faster than he asked questions. A man with no restraint, no fear, and until the very end, no consequences.

You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to ward off the images of his final moments.

“I’ve seen…things. I was hoping that you would be able to elaborate.”

“Don’t you want to be your own person?”

“What do you want me to be?”

An innocent enough question. You swallow. “I want you to be someone who is gone.”

The flow of the conversation brings you to face him, reflexive, and the action pains you all over again. “I’m sorry, this is incredibly hard for me.”

His chin dips. “I understand.”

He rises to his feet and starts toward the door. Without thinking, you chase after him. You’ve let your emotions get the better of you and, before you know it, you’ve pulled him against you.

Fuck, he even smelled just like Feyd.

You find that everything is the same as you remember it, your muscles moving all on their own, pushing you up on your tiptoes and your lips on his.

He embraces you then. Immediately. Without any awkwardness or hesitation, and it’s just enough to make you forget that it’s not him.

The kiss is wild, desperate, full of unspoken things that you wish you could’ve told him as he bled out before your eyes. Pleasure uncoils from inside you like a snake seeking the warmth of the sun, slipping out from the darkness and into the light.

Feyd-Rautha grabs hold of your waist and together you stumble backwards, unable to differentiate where he began and you ended. He pushes you against the wall as your kiss deepens. Your hands rove his body — the slope of his shoulders, the plane of his chest, the ridges of scars from past fights that are only all too familiar to you. A thought emerges, unbidden:

This ghola had never been in those fights.

Couldn’t retell the story of each one affectionately the way Feyd did, as if they were done by a lover’s touch and not the blade of an enemy.

You plant your hands on the ghola’s chest and shove. Hard. The heat in your belly, unable to separate what you were feeling from what you knew, rebels against this, the absence of his touch. You have half the mind to reach out and pull him into you again.

The ghola just stares.

“This is wrong,” you manage to gasp. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

His lips swollen by your kiss, the ghola stammers, “I-I didn’t —”

“You should go.” An indescribable pain crashes over you, dragging you into the depth of its severity.

He nods once. Then again.

The ghola brushes past you to leave and every fiber of your being screams at you not to let him go. But you don’t listen. Instead you wait until he’s gone, ensuring that he’s not coming back, and then collapse to the ground on your knees.

You mourn the man you loved. You mourn the person you were before. And you mourn the fact that this ghola has taken from you the opportunity to mourn.

Feyd-Rautha was dead.

[writingforstraykids]

Only the best for you

Pairing: Minchan

Word Count: 2973

Summary: Felix's birthday party turns thrilling for Chan and Minho as they sneak away for a moment of privacy...more or less.

Warnings/tags: smut, fluff, idiots in love, soft!dom!chan, soft!sub!min, semi-public sex (a closet😭😂)

A/N: Soo after hearing this audio of my dear @slutforchanlix I had to go and write a little something for it. Thank you Azzy baby for the main idea for this fic hehe @galaxycatdrawz

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Minho steps into the bedroom cursing softly to himself as the button keeps on slipping from his hand. “Channie,” he calls out to his boyfriend frustratedly. 

“Mhm?” Chan gives back, his steps echoing in the hallway as he makes his way over. 

“Help, please,” Minho pouts at him and stretches his arm out for him. He yelps in protest when Chan grabs his arm and pulls him in so quickly that their bodies collide. Chan's hands grip his ass, squeezing his cheeks and then he's kissing him forcefully. Minho giggles surprised, gripping his arm to steady himself. “And what was that for, hm?” he asks once Chan pulls back. 

“You look incredibly fuckable right now,” he admits and Minho's jaw drops.

He shoves his chest and shakes his head at him. “Stop,” he giggles. “What the fuck are you on about again?” 

Chan smiles, eyes wandering all over his body as he takes in the sight again. “You're beautiful, that's why,” he says, watching him in wonder as he readjusts the fragile silver bracelet around his neck. “You've got the prettiest face and your lips look so kissable right now. Also that outfit looks so good on you, but what doesn't?” Chan says and takes a few steps back. “Turn for me?” he asks innocently. 

“My cuffs aren't buttoned up yet,” he protests softly but rolls his eyes at Chan's disappointed pout. Minho sighs and slowly turns, blushing a little beneath Chan's intense gaze. 

“Fuck, Minho,” he breathes out, eyes wandering lower to where Minho's trousers hug his thick thighs tightly. “If you don't suffocate me with those thighs later I'll cry.”

“What the hell are you on?” Minho laughs out loud and smiles at him giddy. “Look at you getting all worked up about me fully dressed.”

Chan closes the distance between them and gently takes his hand, closing the button for him on one sleeve and then on the other. He brings up his hands to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, smiling at him happily. “Sometimes I just can't believe you're truly mine.”

“Well, wake up, it's been four years, dummy,” he says fondly. “I'm yours and yours only,” he promises sweetly. 

Chan hums happily. “Mine,” he smirks before kissing him passionately again. 

“Don't you dare keep this up tonight,” he giggles. “It's Lix’s birthday and they rented this whole huge mansion to celebrate. Hyunjin would be pissed if we ruined some sofa in there just because you can't stop being such a tease.”

“Who says it'll be the sofa?” Chan smirks and Minho rolls his eyes playfully. “I'm sure there's some secluded room…or closet,” he says and watches Minho's eyes fill with curiosity. He knew he'd get him with that. The chance of sneaking around and getting caught had done things before to Minho neither of them could explain. 

Minho's smile widens at the implication, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of excitement. "You're so stupid," he laughs, the sound bubbling up effortlessly. Chan simply grins back, his own excitement easily noticeable.

"Promise me something?" Minho says, his tone suddenly serious. Chan's eyebrows lift in curiosity. "Promise me no matter what happens tonight, we'll make time for us, just us. Even if it's just a moment stolen away from the chaos." Chan's face softens, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Minho's forehead.

"I promise," he says softly, then his lips brighten into a smile. "You know I can't deny you anything." They share a quiet moment, eyes locked, nothing but warmth between them. 

The sound of a distant car honking pulls them back to reality. "Sounds like the cab’s here," Chan notes, a hint of reluctance in his voice as if he'd rather stay in this moment forever.

"We should go," Minho agrees, though he takes a second longer to lean in and steal another quick kiss. They break apart, a little breathless but smiling widely.

-

At the mansion Hyunjin lets them inside and leads them downstairs. “We set up the party there because they have all sorts of stuff we could use. We even have a small disco.”

“Oh, nice,” Minho smirks at the thought of letting loose and dancing with Chan. 

As they make their way downstairs, the sounds of laughter and music greet them. The mansion is beautifully decorated, every detail perfect for the celebration. Lix, the birthday boy, is in the center of it all, surrounded by friends and brightly colored balloons.

"Happy Birthday!" Minho and Chan chorus as they approach, each giving Lix a warm hug. Lix beams at them, his happiness fully on display.

"Thanks for coming, guys! I’m so glad you're here," Felix exclaims. "Make yourselves at home—there's food, drinks, and later on, we’re hitting the dance floor hard!"

As the evening progresses, the party goes quite nicely for everyone involved. Music thumps through the mansion, and people mingle and dance.

Minho and Chan drift together through the crowd, occasionally separated as friends pull them into conversations or dance-offs but always finding their way back to each other. Their eyes meet across the room often, a silent conversation of smiles and nods, the promise of a stolen moment never far from their minds.

At one point, Minho finds himself alone on a balcony, taking a moment to breathe in the cool night air. The stars are out, twinkling above in a clear sky. He leans against the railing, lost in thought, until he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist.

"Escaped the chaos?" Chan's voice is soft, his breath warm against Minho's neck.

"Just needed a minute to breathe," Minho replies, leaning back into the embrace. "You?"

"I was looking for you," Chan confesses, tightening his hold slightly. "Remember your promise?" he whispers, his lips brushing against Minho's ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

"How could I forget?" Minho turns in Chan's arms to face him, their noses brushing. "So, about that closet…" he trails off, a teasing glint in his eye.

Chan chuckles, his gaze fond and filled with love. "Let's go find it," he suggests, taking Minho's hand and leading him back inside.

They wander through the party, unnoticed in their quest. When they finally slip away into a quiet hallway, their hands are clasped tightly, the thrill of their little adventure adding an extra layer of excitement.

There's a huge closet standing at the wall and Chan smirks opening the door to it. There are some cleaning supplies in there, which he quickly shoves aside before stepping into it. “Come on,” he giggles and Minho steps inside as well. It’s quiet here, away from the noise of the party. They close the door behind them, the click of it shutting sounding unusually loud in the silence.

Chan backs Minho against the wall, their bodies pressing close. "Found you," Chan murmurs, before his lips find Minho's again. The kiss is deep, passionate, fueled by the adrenaline of their sneaky escape.

Minho's hands roam over Chan's back, pulling him closer, their bodies moving in sync with a rhythm only they know. They break the kiss only to catch their breath, foreheads resting against each other, their breaths mingling. “I love you,” Minho whispers into the quiet. “Love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Chan whispers back, hands squeezing his hips. “It's darker than I expected here,” he admits. 

“Well, obviously,” Minho laughs out loud and covers his mouth in shock. 

“Should we keep the door open, just a little?” he asks and Minho responds with a choked, little moan. “Means you gotta be quiet, bunny, think you can do that?”

Minho squirms a little and nods before realizing Chan can't see him. “Yes, yes I can,” he nods quickly. 

“Mhm, you better, or I'll stop moving,” he says and Minho can hear him undoing his belt. 

“Yes, hyung,” he answers softly, biting his lower lip hard. Chan gently shoves the door open enough to let in a little light. Their eyes meet and Minho swallows at the need in Chan's dark orbs. 

“Trust me,” Chan murmurs as he leans in, his breath hot against Minho’s cheek. The slight crack of the door allows the distant sounds of the party to seep in—a reminder of the world just outside their hidden spot.

Minho nods, his heartbeat quickening with each of Chan's movements. There’s a thrill to this—the secrecy, the risk, the sheer excitement of being with Chan in such a risky setting.

Chan’s hands are careful yet confident as they explore Minho, each touch sending shivers through him. Minho reaches out, his fingers digging into Chan’s back, pulling him closer, needing to feel as much of him as possible.

The soft hum of the party continues to drift through their small opening. 

“You make everything feel like an adventure,” Minho breathes out, his voice a hushed whisper against Chan’s lips.

Chan smiles, his eyes reflecting a mix of love and mischief. “Only the best for you,” he replies, pressing another kiss to Minho’s lips, this one tender and filled with promise. “Let's make sure you're ready, hm?” Chan hums against his lips and fumbles with the button of Minho's trousers. 

“Yeah,” he nods feverishly and shoves down his trousers and boxers enough for Chan to get to work. 

Chan pulls out the small bottle of lube, safely stored in the inside of his jacket. He pours some on his fingers and reaches behind Minho, circling his hole before pushing inside. Minho grips his shoulder tightly, mouth forming a silent “oh”. “Relax,” Chan whispers, gently working his finger inside. “Good boy,” he adds as Minho does exactly that and lets Chan do as he wants to. 

“Fuck, love, please,” he moans sweetly, pressing back on his finger. 

Chan smiles at Minho's responsiveness, adding another finger and scissoring them slowly, careful to prepare him properly. The intimate touches, combined with their secluded environment, heighten the intensity of each sensation. Minho's breath catches, his forehead resting against Chan's shoulder as he adjusts to the feeling.

"Better?" Chan asks, his voice low and comforting.

"Much," Minho manages to reply, his voice laced with a mix of pleasure and anticipation. He adjusts his stance slightly, allowing Chan better access, his own hands gripping Chan's jacket for support.

Chan continues his careful movements, his free hand tracing gentle patterns along Minho's side, soothing and arousing all at once. The soft, muffled sounds of the party outside seem worlds away, their own private universe reduced to the small, dimly lit space of the closet and the overwhelming sensations flooding through them.

Finally feeling that Minho is ready, Chan pulls out his fingers and takes a condom from his jacket pocket. With quick, practiced movements, he tears the package open and rolls it onto himself. He looks into Minho's eyes, searching for any last hesitation, but finds only eager need in them.

"You sure?" he asks, again.

"Absolutely," Minho replies, his voice firm yet breathy. "Please, Chan, I need you."

Chan nods, aligning himself with Minho, his hands gripping his hips tightly. He pushes forward gently, pausing at the resistance he meets to let Minho adjust. The tight heat welcoming him sends a shudder through his body, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. No rush. 

Minho bites down on his lip, concentrating on relaxing as Chan begins to move. Once fully buried inside, Chan gives them both a moment to adjust before starting a slow rhythm. Each thrust is controlled and soft, aiming for a depth and angle that pulls soft, quiet moans from Minho.

Their movements are synchronized, a dance they’ve perfected over time. The sounds of their breaths and the quiet squelch of the lube mix with the faint music from the party.

"Chan..." Minho breathes out, his hands sliding up to tangle in Chan's hair. He pulls him down for a kiss, hungry and deep, which Chan eagerly returns. The kiss muffles their moans, their pace changing as they lose themselves in each other.

Chan's hands explore Minho's body, his fingers tracing the lines and curves he knows so well, each touch sparking additional waves of desire. Minho's hands are equally busy, caressing Chan's back, shoulders, and occasionally drifting lower, thrusting deeper.

Minho's head drops back against the wall of the closet, jaw growing slack as Chan barely moves anymore. They both know how much he loves feeling full and Chan loves seeing him lose control. Chan starts kissing his neck as Minho gets more vocal, breathy moans and small huffs leaving him. He soothingly squeezes his hip and bites back a soft groan as Minho's moans rise in volume the more his lips travel over his neck. 

Minho's grip on his jacket grows tight as Chan barely pulls out before already pushing inside again, grinding against his prostate. “Ohh, fuuck,” he moans out louder than he should. He can't help it as Chan finds just the right angle to make his whole body sing with pleasure. Chan's breath hitches at the sound, encouraged by the undeniable evidence of Minho's pleasure.

"Shh, we've got to keep it down, remember?" Chan reminds him softly, even as he adjusts his movements to maintain that perfect angle, each thrust calculated to deepen the sensation for Minho.

Minho nods, biting his lip hard, his eyes fluttering closed as he fights to stay quiet. He wraps his arms around Chan, pulling him closer, their bodies flush against each other, minimizing any noise from their movements.

Chan's face, buried into the crook of Minho's neck, his hot breaths against Minho's skin sending shivers down his spine. He whispers encouragements, each word a tender vibration against Minho's sweaty skin. "You're doing so well," he murmurs, "Just a bit longer, I've got you."

Minho's hands travel down, tracing the line of Chan's spine, feeling the muscles work beneath his skin. He reaches lower and touches himself where Chan's body meets his, increasing his own pleasure. He feels a familiar tightening, his orgasm approaching rapidly.

Chan feels it too, his movements becoming less rhythmic, more erratic as he gets closer to the edge. "Minho," he gasps, his voice a tight whisper, "I'm—"

"I know," Minho cuts him off, his voice a breathy moan. “Please, baby, with me-.”

The permission breaks the last of Chan's restraint. With a few more thrusts, deep and hectic, they reach their climax together. Chan's grip tightens around Minho as he shudders as waves of pleasure wash over them, leaving them clinging to each other, breathless and spent. Minho can't stop the filthy sounds spilling from his mouth anymore and Chan doesn't stop him, loving the sound of his name so broken, so delicate, so sweet way too much. 

For a few moments, they simply hold each other, their breaths slowly calming. Chan eventually pulls back slightly, looking into Minho's eyes with a depth of love that words could never fully capture. He presses a soft, long kiss to Minho's lips, which the younger returns just as lovingly. 

"We should probably get back," Chan whispers against Minho's lips. 

Minho nods, a soft smile covering his lips. "Yeah, before they start sending out search parties for us." He helps Chan tidy up, adjusting each other's clothes and hair to erase any obvious signs of what had happened. 

They open the closet door fully, peeking out to make sure the coast is clear. The party still rumbles on, the sounds of celebration unchanged by their temporary absence. They slip out, blending back into the crowd, sharing looks, secret smiles and knowing glances.

As they mingle, they keep close, occasionally brushing hands or exchanging soft words.

The night continues, and the music changes to slower, softer beats. Minho leans against Chan, his head resting on his shoulder as they sway gently to the music. Chan’s arms wrap around him, strong and secure.

“Happy?” Chan whispers lowly. 

“Very,” Minho replies genuinely. “Best birthday party ever, and it’s not even mine.”

Chan laughs softly, his breath warm against Minho’s neck. “Every day with you feels like a celebration,” he says, meaning every word.

As the party slowly comes to an end, guests begin to say their goodbyes. Minho and Chan help Lix with some of the cleanup, gathering decorations and tidying up the space. The other boys poke fun at them for working in sync so well by now. 

Once they're done Minho turns to Chan. "Let's go home," he suggests gently. Chan nods, taking Minho's hand in his, their fingers intertwining naturally.

Once home, they kick off their shoes and collapse onto the couch, their bodies melting into one another in a familiar, comforting way. Chan rests his head against Minho's shoulder, his breaths deep and even.

"We really needed this, didn't we?" Chan murmurs, his voice muffled against Minho's shirt.

"Yeah, we did," Minho agrees, his hand stroking Chan's hair, soothing him. "Just some time away from everything else."

They sit in silence for a while, just enjoying the peace of their living room, the quiet hum of the city outside their windows providing a gentle background noise. It doesn't take long and Chan's straddling Minho's lap, sharing tired and loving kisses. As they break apart, Minho's phone buzzes with a message. He glances at it, a smile spreading across his face. "Looks like Jisungie is throwing another party next week," he chuckles, showing Chan the screen.

Chan groans playfully. "Another chance to hide somewhere?"

"Only if you behave until then," Minho teases, laughing. 

The rest of the night is spent in a comfortable silence, with occasional bursts of laughter when one of them shares a random thought. 

Eventually, they make their way to bed. As they get comfortable, their bodies close, Chan whispers, "I love you, Minho. More than anything."

"I love you too, Chan. Forever," Minho whispers back softly.

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