#i dropped everything to reply to this Immediately

[menagerofmischief]

pretty tattoos -> ln4

wc: 1.2k tags: piercer!lando, cockwarming, unprotected sex, piv, part one | part two | part three

Lando’s shop was empty and quiet. Probably because it was already after working hours when you arrived, like the two of you had agreed. 

After the last piercing you had gotten, Lando had indeed taken you out to dinner. And after that, the two of you were inseparable. And you couldn’t be happier.

It was after a night out that you mentioned wanting a tattoo. Immediately there was a sparkle in Lando’s eyes as he began gushing over how he hoped you would mention it because he was itching to ink your body. 

After he dropped you home, laying a gentle sweet kiss to your lips before walking away, Lando had texted you the date and time of your tattoo appointment. Only if you wanted it, of course. And boy, did you want it. 

Lando’s shop was a familiar place by now. Both from your own experiences and from the little visits you made just to see him. So you didn’t hesitate to get yourself comfortable as Lando prepared everything, the stencil already pressed against your skin.

Getting a sternum tattoo as your first tattoo was certainly a bold choice, you wouldn’t deny that. The room was slightly chilly, causing your exposed nipples to perk up, goosebumps raising along the skin of your arms. 

“You changing your mind?” Lando asked, noticing you had gone quiet. His voice was teasing, but you knew that if you really did change your mind he would drop everything without a word. 

“No,” you shook your head. “Just a bit nervous. I heard the sternum is a painful place to get a tattoo.”

“It is,” Lando agreed, smiling at you. “Don’t worry tho, I’ll keep you distracted.” he said with a wink, bringing a smile to your face. 

“Oh, you’ll keep me distracted!” You teased, prompting him to laugh. 

Lando finished setting the necessary material up and sat down in the chair. You looked at him, tilting your head to the side. “Isn’t that my spot?”

“Nope,” he told you, shaking his head. “Your spot is right here.” He patted his lap, his lips curled upwards in a smirk.

“How could I forget,” you smiled, walking towards him slowly. You ran your hands down his body, palms pressing against his chest before dipping lower, toying with the zipper of his pants.

You opened his pants and Lando wasted no time lifting his hips to help you slide them down his legs, the outline of his already hard cock visible in the grey material of his boxers. A wet patch was already forming on the material from where his leaky tip was positioned. 

Lando took the boxers off quickly, pushing them to join his jeans. His hands grabbed your ass and he pulled your body closer, your bare legs pressing against his. 

You giggled, wrapping your hand around his dick. It wasn’t your first time seeing him naked but everytime was as good as the previous. Your eyes zeroed in on his piercing, going through the tip of his cock, the metal balls shining under the led lights of the studio.

Spit dribbled down from your mouth onto his cock and you used it as lube to stroke him a few times before lifting up your skirt and climbing into his lap. The lack of pantied underneath the skirt made it all the easier to position his dick at your entrance and sink down on him, taking him fully. 

“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his hands gripping your hips, both of you moaning at the sensation. His piercing pressed against your walls, adding to the stimulation. Lando’s hand caressed your back, making you arch your chest forward him. 

“You ready?” He asked gently, one of his hands groping your tits, his fingers playing with your nipples and twisting your piercings. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You replied, nodding your head at him. “You sure you can tattoo in this position?”

“Oh please,” Lando scoffed playfully. “Of course I can. Now hold on, this is gonna hurt a little.”

Lando lifted up the tattoo gun and started his work, tracking the stencil on your skin. You gasped a little at the pain, feeling your chest tighten as he worked, involuntarily clenching around him which had his breathing going shallow.

Thankfully it was a small tattoo, which meant it didn’t take much time for Lando to finish it. The whole time he kept teasing you playfully, talking about random things and cracking terrible jokes in effort to distract you from the pain, which really did work. But so did the feeling of his pulsing length buried deep inside of you. 

You finally felt like you could breathe again properly when Lando finished the tattoo, putting away the machine and cleaning it up. One of his hands cupped your flushed face, his eyes meeting yours. “Looks pretty great if I do say so myself,” he told you, his eyes flicking down to the tattoo. “Now how about a reward for my best client?”

“Please,” you gasped out, your walls clenching around his dick. Lando groaned, wrapping his arms around you and standing up then pushing you onto the leather chair all while still remaining inside of you. 

“Did so well,” he told you before pressing his lips down against yours in a sloppy kiss. “Took it so well, didn’t you? Now you’re gonna take my cock, yeah?”

His thrusts started slow, making you feel every inch of his hard cock, the piercing dragging against your walls, making your head spin with pleasure. One of his hands sneaked between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit fast and rubbing circles around it before he flicked your piercing, making you moan out. 

The rhythm of his hips grew frantic, becoming more desperate with each thrust. After cockwarming him for what felt like hours it didn’t really take long for either of you to reach your orgasm.

“God, Lando!” You moaned, nails digging into his back as your orgasm crashed over you, triggering his own. 

You both stayed still for a moment, catching your breath, then Lando pulled out slowly and used one of the previously prepared tissues to clean you up, all the while rambling about the tattoo healing process. You really couldn’t deny that he was adorable. 

The two of you put your clothes back on and you waited for Lando to finish closing up the shop before you left together. “So, wanna come over to my apartment?” You asked, taking his hand in yours. “I got some great leftovers. And they’re not expired.”

He laughed, lacing his fingers with yours. “You truly know a way to my heart!”

Lando Norris had pierced his way into your life and permanently inked his place in it. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

thank you for following along the piercer!lando mini series. want more piercer!lando? send an ask and tell me your ideas. feed my need for validation and let me know if you enjoyed this one! like and reblogs are greatly appreciated as well. <3

[alia-alia12]

𖧹Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader x Suguru Geto

𖧹smut

𖧹2.8k

𖧹mdni

𖧹cw: established relationship (gojo x reader), mmf threesome, oral (both rec), fingering, unprotected sex.

𖧹part 2 (coming soon)

when satoru brought up having a threesome you wouldn't say you were against the idea... you just weren't exactly sure you wanted to share your man with another girl, knowing that you can be both jealous and possessive.

"it'd be with suguru" he told you when you voiced your concerns to him. now that, that piqued your interests.

you were pretty familiar with satoru's best friend, suguru geto having spent time with the man on several occasions and you have to admit, he's attractive.

tall, dark and endlessly charismatic, with a voice that dripped like honey and you couldn’t help but imagine the way it sounds moaning your name when he’s drunk on your pussy and ready to burst.

"i didn't expect that" you admit, your cheeks heating up. "but..." you hesitated, the weight of his proposal sinking in. "are you sure? sharing me with him?"

satoru's gaze darkened, a smirk playing at his lips. "suguru and i share a lot of things babe. and trust me, you'll enjoy this just as much as we will"

his confidence was maddening. and the way he spoke—as though he'd already decided this was happening—made your pulse quicken.

the idea lingered in your mind over the next few days, no matter how hard you tried to push it aside. it wasn't just the thought of satoru's hands and lips on you that haunted your thoughts, no, it was the fact that it would be suguru's hands and lips on you as well.

would he be gentle or rough? would his voice drop into that low, sultry tone as he murmured sinful promises against your skin?

it didnt take long after you told satoru your answer for him to get everything arranged. he came to you the next day telling you that friday was the night it was happening.

friday— just two days away.

shit, that was sooner than you expected.

when geto stepped through the door friday evening, dressed in a dark button up that emphasized his broad shoulder and long legs, and gave you a small, genuine smile your nerves flew away.

"it's good to see you again" his voice was as smooth as ever when he greeted you, closing the distance in just a few steps. his scent hits you immediately and you cant help but inhale, letting it wrap around you like a blanket, warm and comforting.

you swallow hard, heart racing as satoru approaches you, his hand finding the small of your back. "she's been looking forward to this" he teased, his tone light but his touch grounding.

geto arched a brow, his gaze flicking from you to satoru and back. "is that so?" his voice dropped slightly, the weight of it settling over you. you didnt trust your voice at the moment, so you nod, your throat tight.

"don't be shy." satoru murmured, tilting your chin up to meet his intense gaze. His smirk softened as his thumb brushed softly against your bottom lip. "we'll take care of you, won't we suguru?"

blue eyes flick over towards dark ones and the two share a look.

"of course" suguru replies easily, his voice like velvet. he moved closer, his presence commanding without being overwhelming. The air between the three of you seemed to crackle, charged with an energy that made your skin tingle.

satoru leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “relax, beautiful. let us make you feel good.”

before you could respond, his mouth claimed yours, his kiss firm and possessive. his hands slid down your back, pulling you closer until you were pressed against him. you barely had time to process the way his tongue teased against your bottom lip when you felt suguru’s fingers ghost along your arm, a featherlight touch that sent a shivers racing across your arm.

when satoru finally pulled back, his blue eyes blazing with desire, suguru stepped up. he cupped your face gently, his hands warm and steady as he studied you for a moment.

“you’re so sexy,” he said softly. then his lips met yours, his kiss a stark contrast to satoru’s— slow, deliberate, as though he was savoring the taste of you.

your hands found their way to suguru's chest, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric of his shirt. his heartbeat was steady beneath your touch, a calming rhythm that grounded you even as your body hummed with anticipation.

satoru's hands roamed, sliding under your shirt to trace the curve of your waist. his lips found the side of your neck, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin.

the combination of sensations was overwhelming— the feel of suguru's lips on yours and satoru's touch leaving you breathless.

"she tastes sweet, doesn't she?" satoru murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing.

suguru hummed in agreement, you can feel the way his lips curl into a smile against yours. "very."

the heat in the room seemed to rise as their hands and mouths explored, their touches growing bolder. satoru tugged at your shirt, slipping it over your head in one swift motion, while suguru's fingers traced the line of your jaw, his dark eyes intense, filled with a lust you never expected to be directed at you.

"you okay?" suguru asked, his voice soft, his concern evident despite the intensity of the moment.

you nodded, your breath hitching. "i'm okay."

satoru grinned, his hands settling on your hips, chest pressed against your back. "good. let us take the lead, then"

their hands worked in tandem, slowly peeling away the remainder of your clothes until you were left bare under their hungry gazes. their hands moved with purpose.

satoru’s sliding down to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, while suguru's traced the curve of your spine, his touch gentle yet firm. the changes in their breathing mirrored the growing intensity, the room filled with soft gasps, whispered words of filth and the loud thrumming of your heartbeat.

"maybe we should move this to the bedroom" suguru suggested, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants, precum already beginning to leak from his tip and he palmed himself over the cloth. satoru hummed in agreement, the grip on your thighs tightening as he begins walking in the direction of the bedroom.

suguru pushes open the door, stepping inside first with satoru close on his heels. by the time they laid you back against the mattress, your body was buzzing with anticipation, every never ending alight. satoru's lips found your again, his kiss deep and consuming.

his hands find your waist, slowly moving up until he was cupping your chest, fingers ghosting over your pebbled nipples, while suguru's hands traveled up the expanse on your leg, gently massaging your calves as his hands continued inching up your leg, getting closer and closer to your throbbing core.

their hands worked in tandem, one set calloused and confident, the other smooth and deliberate, exploring every inch of you. you lost track of whose touch was whose, their movements so seamless that it felt like they were one, a perfect balance of dominance and tenderness.

"you're so sexy," geto murmured, his voice husky as he positioned himself between your spread legs, face just inches away from your cunt. you instinctively closed your legs, shying away from his burning gaze, not use to anyone but satoru seeing you like this.

suguru gave you a soft smile, his hands coming up to knead the soft skin of your thighs as he waits patiently for you to spread your legs again.

"you're in good hands" satoru teased, his tone playful but tinged with heat. "suguru is very good with his tongue" satoru murmurs against your neck, his breath on your neck as his mouth travels down to your chest, lips leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake.

your hips buck involuntarily, a whine slipping past your lips. your eyes flick to geto's in a pleading look, and he doesn't need to be told what to do.

he dives in. his tongue licking a long stripe from your fluttering hole to your clit, swollen and aching. he places a few kitten licks to your clit before he's taking it into this mouth and sucking on it with a precision that had your toes curling almost instantly. your back arches off the bed as satoru sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around the hardened nub.

"so sensitive" suguru murmurs when he pulls away for air— the way he says it is more like an afterthought. he goes right back to your pussy, using two of his fingers to spread your folds. his tongue pushes its way past your entrance as he fucks it in and out of you before moving back up to your clit.

your fingered desperately grip the sheets below you,

your breaths come out in uneven pants as suguru slowly pushes one of his thick fingers into your pussy, obsessed with the way your walls seem to swallow the digit.

"you taste incredible" suguru says lowly, his dark eyes flick up to meet yours, the arousal in his gaze sends another wave of heat through you. "i could stay here all night"

"who's the greedy one now" satoru snorts but suguru pays him no mind, instead going back to licking and sucking at your cunt with a hum of satisfaction.

the vibrations of the hum sending shockwaves though you that was almost too much to bear.

your hands find his long, black hair, clutching the strands as your body moves on its on, grinding your hips up against his face as your driven closer and closer to the edge.

satoru has abandoned your chest in favor of stripping himself of his clothes. he stands at the foot of the bed, his eyes glued to where suguru is feasting on your pussy, his hand wrapped tightly around his dick, long and thick and already leaking pre.

"wanna taste you, toru" you whine, eyes never leaving his erection and fuck, do you wanna feel it on your lips, on your tongue, down your throat. suguru groans against you. he's so hard it's starting to hurt but he wont stop until you cum on his tongue and he's licked you clean. he pushes another finger into the tightness of your cunt, fucking them in and out of you as he stretches you out for his cock.

satoru moves to kneel besides you on the bed, his hand come up to trace the curve of your jaw as you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him firmly as you guide his tip towards your mouth.

your lips part instantly, tongue flicking out to lap at the precum dripping out of his slit. satoru lets out a soft moan, his head dropping back as you take his tip into your mouth, sucking on it like a sucker. his hand finds the back of your head, using it to guide you down further on his dick, inching it deeper into your mouth until he's hitting the back of your throat.

you breath through your nose, relaxing your throat as you quickly get use to the feeling of satoru's cock sitting heavily on your tongue. your movements grow bolder, more confident as you moved up and down, your hand stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

satoru groaned, the sound low and guttural, sending a burst of pleasure down to your core, walls squeezing tightly around suguru's fingers like a vice.

you pull away for air, hand twisting as you let your tongue trace along the vein that runs up the length in slow, deliberate strokes. satoru's breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with each gasp and groan and you lick and kiss and suck every inch of him. "so good” he whines, his voice hoarse. "so. fucking. good"

he thrusts himself down your throat, each word paired with roll of his hips as you struggle to breathe around the hardness in your mouth.

you and satoru cum at the same time.

your back arching off the bed as suguru's fingers fuck you through your orgasm, his tongue lapping at your clit. his hips sputtering as his cum, thick and sticky, shoots directly down your throat cause you to choke as you swallow it down.

suguru pulls away with a finally kiss to your sensitive clit, his fingers sliding out of your pussy with a quiet squelch.

his hands immediately drop down to undo the button of his jeans, sighing in relief when he finally pulls his aching cock out, stroking himself gently.

"i think suguru deserves some attention, don't you?" satoru questions and your eyes look up to find suguru with his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, moving up and down as he rubs his thumb along his swollen tip, an angry red and practically leaking precum.

the corner of his mouth lifted into a small, knowing smile. "only if she's ready" he said, his voice smooth and deep. your breath hitched at the questioning tone, you nodded. "i am," you said softly, the weight of his gaze leaving you breathless.

he moved closer to you, his hands cupping your face. then his lips were on yours, soft but insistent, drawing you into his warmth.

satoru shifted to your side, his hand trailing along your back as he murmured, "i'll just watch for now, i know the two of you will put on a very good show." his grin softened and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "but i'm not done with you yet,” he looks up at suguru, eyes darkened. “you either.”

suguru deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that left you quivering. his hands slid down your body, exploring every inch of you with a quiet confidence that made you feel both grounded and desired. he shifted you gently, guiding you backwards as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses in their wake.

his body hovered over yours, his broad shoulders and strong frame enveloping you in a way that felt both protective and consuming. his dark eyes locked onto yours.

he positioned himself between your legs, guiding his tip to your pussy and dragging it up and down your slit. "ready?" he asks and you nod. "tell me if its too much."

the first push of his fat tip into your entrance stole your breath right from your lungs. the stretch burns so good and you can't help but moan loudly as suguru's cock stretches you to your limits, thicker than what you're use to.

the groan he lets out when he slides in deeper is low and guttural, his hands gripping your hips as he buries himself in to the hilt.

the first roll of his hips was slow and deliberate, wanting to see just how far he could push you before he really started to fuck you. he pulls out, leaving nothing but his tip inside before pushing right back in.

"shit—you feel so... fucking... good" he grunts out, voice thick with pleasure, each word punctuated with a slow, deep stroke as satoru's hand finds yours. the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making every stroke feel like a tidal wave crashing over you.

his pace quickens until he's pistoning in and out of you at a mind blowing pace. its all too much when satoru sneaks his hand between your bodies, letting his fingers find your puffy clit and rubbing messy circles.

your release built steadily, the intensity of suguru's thrusts paired with the strokes of satoru's fingers over your bundle of nerves driving you higher and higher. when you finally came undone, the force of it left you breathless, your body arching as your cried out loudly. suguru groaned, his own release following shortly after, his body tensing above you as he bottomed out, spilling himself deep inside of you.

for a moment, the room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the three of you tangled together in the aftermath. suguru pressed a soft kiss to your lips as his thumb brushed across your cheek. "you're so fucking perfect."

satoru grinned, his hands sliding along your sides as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "and we're still not done." he said, his tone playful yet laced with heat. "you've got two of us, after all."

[croworro]

Can you write a short schlatt fic in which the fem!reader confesses her feelings to him on stream or on the SDP -- but totally on accident? And of course he returns her feelings (either on off camera. You choose) Thanks boo!

Accidental Confessions

Pairing: Jschlatt x fem!reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none really

Summary: During a chaotic Phasmophobia stream, Schlatt’s relentless flirting leaves you flustered and questioning what’s real.

A/N: hope this is everything you were hoping for!! I’m actually so happy with how this turned out hehe

Your streaming sessions with Jschlatt had become a highlight of your week, and apparently, a highlight for thousands of viewers. What started as a one-off collaboration turned into a weekly tradition that fans clamored for. Schlatt’s relentless teasing, sharp wit, and surprisingly endearing moments always made for entertaining streams.

Tonight’s game was Phasmophobia, you reluctantly agreed to play after weeks of Schlatt goading you on Twitter.

“You ready to cry on stream?” Schlatt’s voice came through your headset as you joined the Discord call.

“More like ready to carry you,” you shot back, smirking as you adjusted your mic.

“Carry me?” Schlatt barked out a laugh. “Sweetheart, you couldn’t carry a flashlight without tripping over yourself.”

“Bold words from someone who hides in the van at the first sign of danger,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see that chat was already in chaos:

[Chat]:

• “Here we go again with the bickering couple.”

• “Schlatt’s flirting is so painfully obvious, omg.”

• “They’re gonna kill each other before the ghost does.”

The game loaded, and Schlatt’s teasing began almost immediately.

“Alright, chat,” he said, his tone smug. “Place your bets: How long before Y/N panics and accidentally gets me killed?”

“First of all, I don’t panic,” you said, grabbing the ghost detector. “Second, if you die, it’s probably because you’re too busy flirting with the chat to pay attention.”

“Oh, sweetheart, if I was flirting, you’d know it,” Schlatt said, his voice dropping into a playful drawl that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

Your face heated, but you forced a laugh. “Good thing I don’t have to worry about that, then.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he replied, his smirk practically audible.

You busied yourself with the game, trying to ignore the way his voice lingered in your mind. The two of you explored the haunted house, with Schlatt cracking jokes and occasionally pretending to be scared just to make you jump.

“Y/N, the ghost’s name is Lisa. Think you can charm her into leaving us alone?” Schlatt asked as you stepped into the darkened kitchen.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who keeps telling me I’m bad with women,” he said, grinning. “Let’s see you do better.”

“Fine,” you said, playing along. “Lisa, you’re a beautiful, independent ghost who doesn’t need to haunt this house anymore. Go find some peace, girl.”

Schlatt laughed so hard he almost dropped his flashlight. “Unbelievable. Chat, clip that. I need to save it for when Y/N tries to say she’s the serious one here.”

[Chat]:

• “I CAN’T WITH THESE TWO.”

• “Lisa’s shaking right now.”

• “Schlatt’s laugh gives me life.”

The game progressed, with Schlatt alternating between teasing you and pretending to be scared. When the ghost appeared out of nowhere, he let out a yell and ran, leaving you alone in the dark.

“Schlatt, you coward!” you screamed, clicking you keyboard keys frantically and fumbling for a hiding spot.

“Every man for himself!” he shouted from the safety of the van.

When the ghost finally disappeared, you stormed out of the house and into the van, glaring at Schlatt’s character.

“You are the worst teammate,” you said.

“And yet, you keep coming back,” he replied, his grin evident in his tone.

You groaned, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, sweetheart,” he added, his voice softer now.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you ignored it, focusing back on the game.

By the time the ghost finally killed Schlatt, you were too frustrated to even pretend to feel bad.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend half the game messing around, you wouldn’t keep dying,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.

“Aw, is that your way of saying you care about me?” Schlatt asked, his tone teasing but his words making your stomach flip.

“Of course I care about you, but I care more about winning,” you said quickly, not even thinking about what you had said.

“What was that?” he asked, his tone shifting slightly. Your eyes widened quickly when you realized what you had said.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, feeling heat creep up your neck.

“Nah, nah, you said something,” he pressed. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, sweetheart.”

The chat went wild:

[Chat]:

• “WAIT WHAT DID SHE SAY???”

• “CONFESS CONFESS CONFESS.”

• “Schlatt, stop bullying her, omg.”

You groaned, ending the game and pulling up your stream controls. “Alright, chat, that’s it for tonight. Goodnight, everyone.”

The protests from viewers were immediate, but you ignored them, ending the stream and ripping off your headset. Your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Schlatt: Call me.

You stared at the message, debating whether to respond. Finally, you sighed and hit the call button.

“Bit of an abrupt ending, don’t you think?” Schlatt said as soon as he picked up, his tone light but probing.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Alright, fair,” he admitted. “But seriously, what’s was that about?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. Schlatt’s teasing was usually easy to brush off, but tonight felt different—more personal.

“It’s just… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like you’re not joking, and I don’t know how to handle that.”

“What if I’m not joking?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Your breath caught, your pulse racing. “Don’t mess with me, Schlatt.”

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “Y/N, I’m not joking. I flirt with you because I like you. Hell, everyone in chat sees it. I thought you did too.”

You swallowed hard, trying to process his words. “I didn’t want to assume,” you admitted.

“Well, you don’t have to,” he said, his tone softening. “I like you, sweetheart. I have for a while.”

A nervous laugh escaped you. “You sure know how to make a confession dramatic.”

“It’s what I do,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “So… what do you say?”

“I think we should play another game,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Another game?” he repeated, sounding surprised.

“Yeah,” you said. “But this time, you’re not leaving me to die.”

Schlatt laughed, his usual confidence returning. “Deal. But if you keep calling me a coward, I might have to change my mind about liking you.”

“Too late,” you teased. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good,” he said, his voice warm. “That’s exactly where I want to be.”

[dulcescorderitas]

𝓴𝓲𝓭𝓼?

you’re nursing a beer, your legs pulled up to sit cross-legged as you lean back on your palms. dean’s beside you, his own bottle dangling loosely in his fingers. his knee rests against yours, this simple, casual point of connection, but it’s enough to ground you. his shoulders are relaxed, his legs stretched out long, but there’s something... off. you can feel it in the way his gaze keeps drifting, how he’s not quite looking at you or anything in particular. he’s lost in his own head, and you’ve been with him long enough to know that’s rarely a good thing.

“you’ve been quiet tonight,” you say, finally breaking the silence. your voice is soft, not accusing, but the words seem to snap him out of whatever spiral he was falling into. he glances at you, his green eyes flickering in the dim light, and he huffs out a little laugh. it’s small, almost self-deprecating, and he looks away again, his jaw tightening.

“just thinkin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs, taking a swig of his beer.

you tilt your head, watching him. “about what?”

he hesitates, running his free hand through his hair, and the gesture makes your stomach tighten. whatever it is, it’s big. he’s not usually this careful about his words—dean winchester isn’t careful about much, period—but right now, he looks like a man standing on the edge of something.

“can i ask you somethin’?” he says, finally, and his voice is quieter now, more raw.

“of course,” you reply immediately, setting your beer aside. you shift closer, your knee pressing more firmly against his, your hand resting on the cool metal of the car between you. “what’s on your mind?”

he exhales slowly, staring down at the bottle in his hands. for a second, you think he’s not going to say anything. then, all at once, the words come out.

“you ever think about havin’ kids?”

the question hits you like a punch to the gut—not because it’s unwelcome, but because it’s so unexpected. you blink at him, your lips parting, and he finally looks at you, his expression guarded. like he’s bracing for you to laugh at him, or worse, to shut him down completely.

“kids?” you repeat, just to make sure you heard him right.

“yeah,” he says, his voice gruff, like the word’s hard for him to get out. “like... not right now, obviously, but... someday. you ever think about it?”

your mouth opens, then closes. you glance at him, searching his face for any clues about where this is coming from. it’s not like dean’s ever been the white-picket-fence type. hell, you’re not even sure if you’re the white-picket-fence type, given the life you lead. but there’s something in his eyes, something vulnerable and almost... hopeful, that makes your chest ache.

“i don’t know,” you say honestly. “i guess i haven’t thought about it much, with everything going on. it’s not exactly easy to picture that kind of future, you know?”

he nods, like he was expecting that answer, but there’s still this shadow of disappointment in his expression. “yeah. yeah, i get that,” he mutters, tipping back his beer for another sip.

you watch him for a moment, your mind racing. he doesn’t bring up stuff like this lightly—hell, he barely even talks about his feelings unless you pry them out of him. but this? this is something he’s been holding onto, turning over in his mind, and now he’s laid it at your feet like some kind of fragile offering.

“why are you asking?” you ask gently, leaning closer. “is this something you’ve been thinking about?”

he lets out a low laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “yeah,” he admits, running a hand down his face. “i don’t know, it’s stupid. just... sometimes i think about what it’d be like. teachin’ a kid how to throw a football. takin’ ‘em for a drive in baby when they’re old enough. tryin’ to be the kind of dad mine never was.”

the confession is raw, almost painful, and you feel it settle heavy in your chest. dean’s voice drops lower, like he’s afraid of saying it out loud. “i mean, i know it’s a pipe dream, with the way we live. but... if it ever happened, you know? with you... i think i’d want that.”

his words hang in the air between you, and your heart stutters. with you. the way he says it, so quiet, so certain, makes something twist inside you. you reach out, your fingers brushing his arm. he looks up at you, his expression cautious, like he’s waiting for you to tell him he’s crazy.

“dean,” you say softly, “you’d be an incredible dad.”

he snorts, shaking his head, but you tighten your grip on his arm, making him look at you. “i mean it,” you insist. “you’re already so good with sam, and jack... hell, you take care of everyone around you, whether you realize it or not. you’ve got more love in you than you give yourself credit for.”

his jaw clenches, and he looks away, but not before you catch the flicker of emotion in his eyes. “you really think that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“i know it,” you say firmly, leaning in closer. “and if that’s something you want... someday... then yeah. i think i’d want that too. with you.”

his head snaps toward you, his eyes wide, and for a second, he just stares at you. then, without warning, he leans in, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as his lips crash against yours.

the kiss is desperate, messy, like he’s been holding himself back for too long and finally let the dam break. his fingers thread through your hair, holding you close as his mouth moves against yours, hot and demanding. you gasp into him, your hands grabbing at his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him like you need air.

his tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open for him, letting him in. he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, and it’s like a switch flips. suddenly, you’re climbing into his lap, straddling him as his hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. the heat of him, the way his stubble scrapes against your skin, the sheer wantpouring off of him—it’s overwhelming in the best way.

he breaks away for a second, his forehead pressing against yours as you both catch your breath. his hands are still on your hips, holding you there like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “you have no idea how much i love you,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine.

“i think i have a pretty good idea,” you tease, your lips brushing against his as you speak. he laughs softly, the sound muffled as he kisses you again, slower this time, but just as consuming.

the future might be uncertain, but right now, with dean’s arms wrapped around you, his lips on yours, you think maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something worth holding onto.

[leatherfaggotgayscally]

The New Life

Martin had always been the quiet, unassuming type. A software engineer by trade, his days were spent coding, sipping black coffee, and meticulously planning every moment of his life. His evenings were reserved for gaming marathons, vinyl record sessions, or quietly nurturing his bonsai tree. Moving into a small flat on the outskirts of Birmingham was supposed to be a practical step, a chance to save money and focus on work.

The flat wasn’t much, but Martin liked its simplicity. The only peculiar thing was the landlord, a man he had never met. The lease was finalized online, and the key had been left in a lockbox. Every question Martin emailed received curt, almost cryptic replies signed simply, “J.”

One late night, after staying up to debug an infuriating piece of code, Martin collapsed into bed, still wearing his plain grey hoodie and jeans. He drifted off immediately, his laptop humming softly on his desk.

When he woke, his world had changed.

The first thing he noticed was the weight on his chest. Groggily, Martin looked down and saw a thick, gleaming gold chain resting against a black Nike tracksuit. The outfit was completed by a black puffer jacket and a pair of pristine white Nike TNs on his feet.

Panicking, Martin stumbled out of bed and caught his reflection in the mirror. His neatly combed hair was gone, replaced by a sharp buzz cut. His room, once spotless, was a wreck—empty takeaway containers, cans of lager, and scraps of paper were strewn everywhere. His laptop was missing, replaced by a battered Bluetooth speaker blaring grime music at low volume.

His heart racing, Martin snatched his phone off the bedside table, only to find it completely wiped. All his apps, contacts, and files were gone. The only thing left was a single number saved under the name “J.”

Trembling, he pressed the call button.

“’Bout bloody time,” a deep, gravelly voice answered on the first ring. “Come ‘round the back o’ the block. We need a word.”

“Who are you? What’s going on?” Martin stammered.

“Quit yappin’ and get yer arse down here, mate.” The call ended abruptly.

Martin didn’t know why, but he felt compelled to obey. Pulling on the puffer jacket, he stepped into the cold evening air and walked around the back of the building.

There, leaning casually against the wall, was a man in a black puffer jacket and trackies. He was smoking a cigarette, his buzzed head gleaming in the faint glow of the streetlight. His posture was relaxed, but something about him radiated authority.

“’Ere he is,” the man said with a smirk, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Sleep well, bruv?”

Martin stared. “Are you… J?”

“That’s what they call me,” the man said, tapping ash off his cigarette. “So, what d’ya think of yer new look?”

“I hate it!” Martin snapped. “What is this? I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this!”

Jay laughed, his voice rough and mocking. “Come off it, lad. Don’t act like you’re not buzzin’. I’ve seen yer socials, seen all them scally pages you follow. Don’t lie to me.”

Martin’s cheeks flushed. He had spent hours scrolling through photos of lads in tracksuits, admiring their swagger and confidence. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be one.

“This isn’t me,” he insisted, backing away.

Jay took a slow drag of his cigarette and stepped closer. His voice dropped to a low, commanding tone. “Stop pretendin’, mate. This is who you’ve always wanted to be. Now, take a drag o’ this cig and let it sink in.”

“I don’t smoke,” Martin mumbled.

Jay raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Didn’t ask if you did, did I? Now, stop bein’ soft and take it.”

Martin hesitated, but Jay’s imposing presence was too much. Slowly, he took the cigarette. He brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply. The smoke burned his throat, making him cough, but as he exhaled, everything began to shift.

A strange warmth spread through his body. His muscles tensed and grew, filling out the tracksuit. His back straightened, and his posture shifted to one of casual confidence.

Jay chuckled, clapping Martin on the shoulder. “There ya go, lad. Told ya it’d suit ya.”

Over the next few days, Martin’s life unraveled completely. He quit his office job without a second thought. “Desk jobs are for nerds,” he scoffed when Jay asked him about it. Instead, he took up a hard labor gig at a nearby warehouse. The pay was awful, but Martin didn’t care. He liked the physicality of it, the way it made him feel strong and capable.

Every night, Jay would knock on his door, and they’d head out together. They’d hang around the estate or outside the local chippy, blasting grime music and chatting with Jay’s mates. At first, Martin felt out of place, but as the nights went on, he began to embrace it.

He started rolling cigarettes with ease, perfecting his swagger, and adjusting his tracksuit to show off his gold chain. He even picked up a thick Brummie slang, finding himself talking more like Jay and less like his old, nerdy self.

His flat became a reflection of his new life—messy, lively, and filled with the sound of music and laughter. The Martin who once prided himself on his orderliness and ambition was gone.

One evening, as they leaned against a wall under a dim streetlight, Jay passed him another cigarette.

“Told ya, lad,” Jay said with a smirk. “This is where you belong.”

Martin lit the cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke as he nodded. His gold chain glinted in the light, and his buzzed head shone faintly. “Yeah,” he said with a cocky grin. “You were right, mate.”

The transformation was complete. The quiet, bookish Martin was no more. In his place stood a confident scally lad, unbothered and unapologetic.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Suds & Smiles

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

AU: Mechanic!Soap x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, flirting, slow-burn romance

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this fluff-filled story! Soap deserves all the love, and this AU brings out his sweetest side.(He’s blondish here cuz I imagine him as such when he had the chance because he’s not in the military-)

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The soft hum of your car’s engine filled the air as you pulled up to the small garage on the edge of town. The paint on the sign outside had faded slightly, but the bold letters still read *MacTavish Repairs & Restorations.* You sighed, glancing at your dashboard lights blinking in protest. Your car needed fixing, and though you hated dealing with mechanics, this place had been highly recommended.

The bell above the door jingled as you stepped inside, the scent of oil and leather mixing with a hint of coffee. Behind the counter stood a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with a shock of blondish brown hair that seemed to defy gravity. His grin was immediate and disarming, like he’d been waiting just for you.

“Morning! What can I do for ye?” His Scottish lilt rolled off his tongue effortlessly, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’m having some trouble with my car,” you started, suddenly hyper-aware of how much of a mess it looked after the recent rain. “The engine light came on yesterday, and it’s been making this weird clicking noise.”

Soap nodded thoughtfully, already grabbing a notepad. “No worries, lass. We’ll get it sorted. Park it up front, and I’ll take a look. Tea? Coffee? Or do ye prefer to supervise?”

You laughed softly, surprised by how relaxed he made you feel. “I’ll supervise. You never know with mechanics these days.”

“Ouch!” he teased, placing a hand over his chest like you’d wounded him. “I’ll have ye know, MacTavish Repairs has a spotless reputation. But fair enough, yer majesty. Grab a seat, and I’ll put on a wee show for ye.”

You followed him outside as he went straight to work, rolling up the sleeves of his coveralls. His arms flexed slightly as he popped the hood, and you quickly averted your gaze, focusing on anything else.

“So,” he called over his shoulder, “what brings ye to this side of town? You’re not from here, aye?”

“No, just moved a few months ago,” you replied, leaning against a nearby post. “Still trying to get used to everything.”

“Ah, a newbie! Well, welcome to our wee corner of the world. Not much happens here, but the folk are nice enough. And now ye’ve got me to look after yer car, so you’re in safe hands.”

His grin was infectious, and you found yourself relaxing more as the minutes ticked by. He narrated everything he was doing with a playful commentary, throwing in exaggerated warnings about “angry gremlins” in your engine and how they only responded to his charm.

After that first visit, your car seemed to develop a knack for needing Soap’s attention every few weeks. Each time you stopped by, he greeted you with a grin and some teasing comment that made your day brighter. Before long, you started dropping by just to bring him lunch or snacks, earning his wide-eyed delight.

“Ye spoil me, lass,” he said one afternoon, biting into the sandwich you’d made.

“Someone’s got to make sure you’re eating more than just greasy chips,” you replied with a grin.

“Careful,” he said, pointing at you with half his sandwich. “Keep this up, and I’ll start thinking ye care about me.”

“What if I do?” you asked, caught off guard by your own boldness.

Soap froze for a moment, then his grin softened. “Then I’d say yer a smart lass with impeccable taste.”

One evening, you stopped by the shop after hours, bringing dinner for both of you. Soap was under the hood of an old truck, his face smudged with grease and his hair tousled. When he saw you walk in, his grin broke across his face like sunlight.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag before walking over.

“I figured you’d still be here,” you replied, holding up the food. “Thought you might be hungry.”

He took the bag from you with exaggerated reverence, peeking inside. “Aye, this lass is a keeper,” he declared, earning a laugh from you.

As you ate together, Soap leaned against a workbench, watching you with a soft smile.

“What?” you asked, self-conscious under his gaze.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Just... I like having ye around. Makes the place feel less lonely.”

You nudged his arm gently. “I like being here, too.”

One quiet afternoon, you were in the garage’s small office while Soap finished up a repair. A song played softly on the radio, and when he returned, he held out his hand with a grin.

“Care to dance?” he asked.

“There’s no room in here!” you laughed.

“Excuses, excuses,” he teased, pulling you to your feet.

With one hand on your waist and the other holding yours, he started swaying to the music, humming along. It was clumsy and awkward, but his smile was so genuine you couldn’t help but join in.

“See?” he said, spinning you lightly. “Told ye I was good.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, laughing.

“Aye, but I’m yer kind of ridiculous, aren’t I?”

One rainy night, your car gave out completely, stranding you on the side of the road. Without hesitation, you called Soap, who arrived in record time with his truck.

“You really know how to keep me on my toes, don’t ye?” he teased, helping you into the passenger seat and handing you a thermos of tea.

When you reached the shop, Soap refused to let you sit in the cold waiting area. Instead, he wrapped you in one of his oversized hoodies and brought you into the back office, where a space heater buzzed softly.

By the time your car was ready, dawn was breaking, and the two of you stood beside it, neither wanting to say goodbye.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thanked ye properly,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“For what?”

“For making this place brighter. For putting up with my nonsense. For... being you.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned in slightly, his blue eyes flickering to your lips. When you didn’t pull away, he closed the gap, his kiss soft and warm, full of unspoken feelings.

When you finally parted, his forehead rested against yours, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, smiling.

“Didn’t know if ye felt the same,” he admitted. “But now I do.”

From that moment on, your relationship grew naturally. Soap would surprise you with wildflowers from the field behind the shop, saying, “They reminded me of ye—bright and beautiful.”

He’d show up at your door with a grin, ready to whisk you off on impromptu dates to his favorite spots around town.

One evening, as the two of you curled up on his couch, he pressed a kiss to your temple and whispered, “I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m never letting ye go.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “I think we both got lucky.”

Hope you enjoyed it! Please consider liking and reposting! – Midnight💜 

[goayda]

What if… in a modern AU where Ed and Izzy are happily married they decide to try that open marriage thing they have heard about and see what happens.

So Stede and Ed start dating and they both join Izzy for a drink one day because those are the rules apparently (‘Izzy just wanted to know I’m not dating a psycho, mate’, ‘Really?’, ‘Yeah, jury is still out, Bonnet, let’s see what you order at the bar’). And Stede thinks Izzy is kind of blunt and surly, but he is also funny and smart (and very, very hot) so they end up having a few drinks some other time or even lunch one memorable day and everything goes well.

And one day, Stede and Ed are having a walk on their way back from a date and Stede is using Ed’s phone to take a pic of some really beautiful wildflowers he has just seen because his phone’s battery is mostly dead and when he checks the gallery to see if the picture looks right, Stede ends up seeing something that almost makes him drop Ed’s phone.

It’s a photo of Izzy. A photo of a bare-chested Izzy lying on a bed, smiling at the camera, looking so relaxed and so sexy that Stede bluescreens for a moment and doesn’t even notice that Ed is talking to him until he looks over Stede’s shoulder to see what has him so distracted and the man starts laughing.

“I knew you thought Izzy was hot!”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to pry, I swear!” Stede says mortified as he gives him the phone back.

“Don’t worry, man, I believe you,” Ed replies, grinning. “Also, that’s not a ‘no’.”

“Of course, he obviously is,” Stede admits, because how can he pretend when he is blushing furiously.

“And you’ve simply seen his chest, man,” Ed says, excitedly scrolling down the phone. “I’ve more pics here somewhere.”

“Ed, I’m not sure that…“

“Do you want to see a pic of his dick?“

“Ed!”

(It was not that Stede wasn’t interested, he was simply worried that Izzy wouldn’t want his ‘private’ photos to be shared like that, but Ed immediately explains that it’s not a problem because Izzy finds Stede hot too and would be ok with it and Stede bluescreens again.

Things escalate quickly from that point and soon Ed and Izzy are trying that throuple thing they had also heard about with Stede.)

[pitchprowler27]

Hearts On The Sidelines Part 5

Ellie was at Bobby’s apartment, lounging on his couch while he dramatically recounted his latest work story, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and an abundance of flair. She was only half-listening, her thoughts drifting back to Leah—her smile, her confidence, and the gentle way she’d held Ellie’s hands outside the club. It had been a week since that night, and Ellie had replayed the moment in her head more times than she cared to admit.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting Bobby mid-rant.

“Oh, what’s got you so popular?” he teased, leaning forward to peek.

Ellie grabbed her phone before he could, her heart skipping when she saw Leah’s name light up the screen.

Leah: Hey, pretty girl. Got plans this Friday night?

Ellie blinked at the screen, her palms suddenly clammy. Plans? Did Leah mean… plans plans? Her mind raced, half-wanting to reply immediately, half-wanting to toss her phone into the nearest cushion and pretend she hadn’t seen it.

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “What’s that look for?”

“It’s Leah,” Ellie said, her voice somewhere between a squeak and a whisper.

“And?” Bobby prompted, waving his hand for her to go on.

“She—she’s asking if I have plans Friday.”

Bobby’s face split into a wide grin. “Ooooh, baby girl, she’s asking you out. Don’t just sit there—answer her!”

Ellie hesitated, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard. “What if she’s not? What if it’s, like, a group thing or something?”

“Ells,” Bobby said, his tone deadpan, “this is Leah Williamson we’re talking about. That girl is not subtle. She’s into you. Now answer before she thinks you’re ignoring her.”

Ellie took a breath and typed back.

Ellie: Not yet. Why?

The response came almost immediately.

Leah: Good. I want to take you out. A proper date. Dinner and everything.

Ellie stared at the words, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might leap out of her chest. Bobby snatched the phone from her hands before she could stop him, reading the message and letting out an obnoxiously loud squeal.

“She said it!” he crowed. “She actually said ‘date.’ Oh my god, Ellie, this is it. Your time has come.”

“Give it back!” Ellie lunged for her phone, snatching it from his grasp and glaring at him. But she couldn’t stay annoyed, not when her chest felt like it might burst from excitement and nerves.

Ellie: I’d like that.

Leah: Friday at 7. I’ll pick you up. Wear something nice ;)

Ellie groaned, already feeling the heat creep up her neck at Leah’s casual confidence.

“See? Told you,” Bobby said smugly, flopping back onto the couch. “You’re going on a date with the Leah Williamson. I hope you know I expect a full report.”

Ellie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Yeah, yeah. Now help me figure out what to wear.”

———————————————————————————————————————

The restaurant hummed with soft conversation and the clinking of silverware, creating a bubble of intimacy that Ellie wasn’t used to. Across from her, Leah seemed perfectly at ease, leaning slightly forward with her chin propped on her hand, her piercing gaze trained on Ellie like she was the only person in the room.

Ellie wasn’t sure if it was the wine, Leah’s undivided attention, or the flickering candlelight, but she felt unusually warm. Still, the awkwardness simmered under the surface, like a pot threatening to boil over.

Leah noticed her fidgeting fingers and reached across the table, gently covering Ellie’s hand with her own. The sudden warmth of Leah’s touch stilled Ellie, her eyes flicking up to meet Leah’s.

“You’re nervous,” Leah said softly, her voice a low hum that felt more like a balm than an observation.

“I’m not nervous,” Ellie lied, her tone betraying her. She dropped her gaze, staring at where their hands touched. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Leah smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “You don’t have to be, you know. It’s just me.”

Ellie huffed a laugh. “Just you? You’re Leah Williamson. That’s not exactly nothing.”

Leah’s thumb brushed lightly over the back of Ellie’s hand. “Ellie,” she said, her tone firmer but still gentle. “To you, I’m just Leah. No Captain, no star player, no fanfare. Just me. And I’m here because I want to be.”

Ellie swallowed hard, her chest tightening at Leah’s words. It wasn’t often that someone spoke to her with such sincerity, without any expectation or ulterior motive. She nodded, more to herself than Leah.

“I’m not great at this,” Ellie admitted, her voice barely audible above the din of the restaurant.

Leah tilted her head slightly. “At what?”

“This,” Ellie gestured vaguely between them. “Talking. Being open. Letting people in.”

Leah’s smile softened, her fingers giving Ellie’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “That’s okay. You don’t have to be great at it. You just have to be honest. Start small.”

Ellie hesitated, biting her lip as she stared at the tablecloth. The silence stretched just long enough for Leah to pull back slightly, giving Ellie the space she needed.

“I wasn’t always this awkward, you know,” Ellie finally said, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “The Army kind of… changed things.”

Leah stayed quiet, her expression unreadable but patient. Ellie glanced up and saw that Leah’s gaze hadn’t wavered, her blue eyes steady and open.

“When you’re in that kind of environment, you learn to shut out a lot of things,” Ellie continued. “Feelings. Connections. Anything that could make you hesitate when it mattered.”

Leah nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact. “Makes sense.”

“It worked there,” Ellie said, a bitter edge creeping into her voice. “But now? Now I don’t know how to turn it off. I’m fine when it comes to work, but when it’s something like this…” She gestured between them again, her fingers tightening slightly around Leah’s hand. “I feel like I’m failing some basic human test.”

Leah chuckled softly, the sound low and reassuring. “You’re not failing anything, Ellie.”

Ellie met her eyes, her own filled with uncertainty. “How do you know?”

Leah leaned back slightly, her hand never leaving Ellie’s. “Because I’m sitting here with you, and I wouldn’t be if I didn’t want to be. And because you’re here, too, even though I know it’s hard for you. That’s enough.”

Ellie blinked, her throat tightening at the weight of Leah’s words. She looked away, embarrassed by the tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“You’re really good at this,” she muttered, trying to deflect.

Leah grinned, her fingers brushing lightly over Ellie’s knuckles. “What can I say? I have my moments.”

Ellie rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile that broke through. “Cocky,” she murmured.

“Confident,” Leah corrected, her tone playful but still warm. “And for the record, I think you’re pretty great at this, too. Even if you don’t see it.”

Ellie laughed quietly, a sound that felt more like a release than amusement. “You’re too nice.”

“Maybe,” Leah said with a shrug. “Or maybe I just think you’re worth it.”

The words settled over Ellie like a blanket, warm and comforting. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel the need to run from the vulnerability. She nodded again, her fingers tightening slightly around Leah’s.

“Thanks,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling beneath the surface.

Leah smiled, her thumb still tracing soothing patterns on Ellie’s hand. “Anytime, pretty girl.”

And just like that, Ellie felt a tiny crack form in the walls she’d built around herself—small but significant.

———————————————————————————————————————

The walk back to Ellie’s apartment was filled with quiet laughter and a lightness Ellie hadn’t felt in years. The cool evening air nipped at her cheeks, but Leah’s presence beside her was a comforting warmth that chased away the chill. They walked close, shoulders brushing every so often, and each time, Ellie felt a jolt of awareness that made her heart flutter.

When they reached Ellie’s door, she fumbled for her keys, her nerves creeping back in. Leah stood patiently behind her, her hands tucked into the pockets of her blazer. Ellie finally managed to unlock the door, pushing it open just enough to let the light from inside spill out.

“Well, this is me,” Ellie said awkwardly, her hand lingering on the doorknob as she turned to face Leah.

Leah smiled, stepping closer until she was just a breath away. “I had a great time tonight,” she said softly, her voice low and warm. “You surprised me.”

Ellie tilted her head. “Surprised you?”

Leah nodded, her gaze steady and intent. “I knew I’d like you, but I didn’t expect to feel so…” She trailed off, her lips quirking into a smirk. “Captivated.”

Ellie’s cheeks burned, and she dropped her gaze, unsure how to respond. Before she could overthink, Leah reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Ellie’s chin, gently tilting her head up.

“Don’t hide from me, pretty girl,” Leah murmured, her thumb grazing Ellie’s cheek. “I like seeing you.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening. She didn’t have time to formulate a response before Leah leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft but firm, her hand sliding to the back of Ellie’s neck to hold her close. Ellie melted into the kiss, her hands instinctively gripping Leah’s blazer for support.

Leah deepened the kiss, her other hand coming to rest on Ellie’s waist, grounding her while pulling her closer. Ellie wasn’t used to this kind of attention—focused, intentional, and completely consuming. She felt like she was standing on the edge of something vast and wonderful, and for once, she wasn’t scared to take the leap.

When Leah finally pulled back, her forehead rested lightly against Ellie’s, her breathing just a little uneven. “You okay?” she asked softly, her thumb brushing the curve of Ellie’s jaw.

Ellie nodded, her voice caught in her throat. “Yeah,” she managed to whisper, her hands still gripping Leah’s blazer like a lifeline.

Leah chuckled, the sound soft and low, before pressing a kiss to Ellie’s temple. “Good. Because I’d like to see you again.”

Ellie looked up, her eyes wide and unsure. “You would?”

“Ellie,” Leah said, her voice dipping into something more serious. “You’re not a fling for me. I’m here because I want to be. And I want to keep being here, as long as you’ll let me.”

Ellie swallowed hard, the weight of Leah’s words settling over her. She nodded slowly, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “I’d like that.”

Leah smiled, leaning in to press another kiss to Ellie’s forehead, this one lingering. When she pulled back, she tucked a strand of Ellie’s hair behind her ear. “Go inside, pretty girl. Get some sleep.”

Ellie hesitated, reluctant to let the moment end. “Do you want to come in? Just for a little while?”

Leah’s smile softened, her hand sliding down Ellie’s arm to give her hand a gentle squeeze. “Not tonight,” she said, her tone tender but firm. “I want to take my time with you.”

Ellie felt her face heat again, but there was no mistaking the warmth in Leah’s gaze or the sincerity in her voice. She nodded, stepping back into her apartment. “Goodnight, Leah.”

“Goodnight, Ellie,” Leah said, her voice like a promise. She lingered for a moment, watching Ellie before turning to leave, her steps slow and deliberate.

Ellie closed the door, leaning against it with a sigh. Her heart was racing, and her lips still tingled from Leah’s kiss. For the first time in a long while, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she could let someone in. And that thought, as terrifying as it was, felt like the beginning of something wonderful.

[kathlare]

fault lines

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: During a family dinner in New York, Amelie’s brief respite from her demanding career is disrupted by an unexpected revelation.

Wordcount: 1.1 k

Warnings: just fluff

May 8th, 2023 - New York City, NY

The warm hum of conversation filled the small, upscale restaurant tucked in the heart of New York City. Amelie sat between her brother Callum and her father, Elias, the gentle buzz of her family’s chatter offering a temporary reprieve from the overwhelming pressure of her tour. The past few months had been a whirlwind of sold-out shows, sleepless nights, and long flights, but tonight was a rare moment of respite. Her parents, siblings, and Checo had flown in from Miami, fresh off the Grand Prix, to watch her perform live.

The dinner was supposed to be relaxed, a celebration of family and Amelie’s success, but she couldn’t shake the unease that had been sitting in her chest all day. Perhaps it was exhaustion or the growing distance between her and Rodrigo, who was still in Spain training for the upcoming season.

Her mother’s hand on hers brought her out of her thoughts.

—You’ve been quiet tonight, mi amor,— Victoria said, her eyes warm and full of concern. —Is everything okay?—

Amelie gave her a small smile, forcing herself to push the worries aside. —Just tired, Mamá. Touring’s catching up to me.—

Her father nodded knowingly. —You’ve been working too hard. But at least now you’ve got us here. We’re not leaving until we’ve embarrassed you by crying in the front row.—

—Papá,— she groaned, though her lips curled into a genuine smile this time.

Checo, sitting across from her with Stella by his side, chimed in. —I’m just here to tell everyone backstage that I’m your favorite brother-in-law. Gotta keep my title.—

—You’re my only brother-in-law,— Amelie shot back playfully, though the warmth in her tone made everyone chuckle.

As plates of food were set down in front of them, Jack leaned back in his chair with a smug grin. "Speaking of titles, I think I’m officially the worst golfer in the family now."

—What?— Elysia said, narrowing her eyes at her twin. —Since when are you even considered a golfer?—

—Since last week,— Jack replied, his grin growing wider. —Got invited to play in Miami with Dad, Zak Brown, and some other guys. It was a disaster.—

Amelie’s head snapped up at the mention of McLaren, her chest tightening instinctively. —Wait, Zak Brown? As in… McLaren’s Zak Brown?—

Jack nodded, smirking as he reached for his drink. —The one and only. Don’t get too excited, though. He wasn’t there to see me. It was all Dad’s thing. Apparently, they’re buddies now.—

Elias chuckled, clearly amused by the memory. —He’s a good guy. Knows his stuff about motorsports, that’s for sure. Though I’m pretty sure he was regretting inviting me after the third hole. My swing’s gone to hell.—

—Hold up,— Amelie interrupted, her brows furrowing. —What exactly were you doing playing golf with Zak Brown?—

—Oh, it was just a casual thing,— Elias said, waving a hand dismissively. —Some McLaren sponsors were there too. I didn’t want to go, but Zak insisted.—

—Yeah, it was casual until he showed up,— Jack cut in, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. —Your boy Lando. You should’ve seen it, Amelie. It was like watching a soap opera. Dad looked like he wanted to throttle him.—

The air around the table shifted immediately. The lighthearted atmosphere that had filled the room moments earlier evaporated as quickly as it had come, replaced by a palpable tension. Amelie’s heart dropped at the mention of his name, her fork freezing midway to her mouth.

—Lando?— she asked, her voice tighter than she intended.

Elias’ jaw clenched ever so slightly, his expression darkening. —He happened to be there, unfortunately. I wasn’t particularly thrilled about it.—

Checo exchanged a glance with Stella, his lips pressing into a thin line as he silently reached for his glass of water. He knew better than to say anything yet.

Jack, oblivious to the growing discomfort, leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. —Not thrilled? That’s putting it lightly. Dad practically gave the guy a death stare the entire day. If looks could kill, I don’t think he’d have made it past the ninth hole.—

—Jack,— Stella hissed, giving him a warning glare.

But Amelie wasn’t looking at Jack anymore. Her focus had shifted entirely to her father. —What happened?— she asked, her voice steady despite the storm swirling inside her.

Elias sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. —It’s nothing, princesa. Just an unpleasant surprise seeing him there, that’s all. I might’ve said a few things to let him know he wasn’t welcome.—

Amelie’s stomach churned. She didn’t need details to fill in the blanks. Elias was fiercely protective of her—always had been—and she could only imagine what kind of indirect jabs he’d thrown at Lando. The thought made her chest tighten uncomfortably.

—A few things?— Jack snorted. —Dad basically told him to stay the hell away from you. Oh, and then he threw in something about him breaking your heart. You should’ve seen Lando’s face. I almost felt bad for the guy.—

—Jack!— Victoria snapped, her tone sharp. —That’s enough.—

But Amelie barely heard her. Her mind was spinning, the room suddenly feeling too warm. She dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter, pushing it away as she leaned back in her chair.

—Amor,— her mother said softly, her hand reaching for hers again. —Don’t let this upset you. Your father was just being protective.—

—Protective?— Amelie repeated, her voice rising slightly. —Papá, what were you even thinking? I told you months ago that Lando and I were done. We’re nothing to each other anymore.—

Elias frowned, his expression softening as he looked at her. —You may think that, but I know better. I know how much he hurt you, Amelie. And if you think I’m going to stand by and pretend everything’s fine when I see him acting like nothing happened, you’re wrong. He doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you.—

Amelie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She didn’t want to have this conversation here—not in front of her entire family, not in the middle of a crowded restaurant. But the damage was already done.

—What exactly did you say to him?— she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elias hesitated, glancing at Stella, who gave him a subtle shake of her head as if to warn him against saying too much. But Jack, of course, had no such reservations.

—Oh, you know, the usual dad stuff,— Jack said, smirking. —“Stay away from my daughter,” “You broke her heart,” “You’ll never be good enough for her,” blah, blah, blah.—

—Jack, for God’s sake!— Stella snapped, clearly fed up with his antics.

But Amelie didn’t react to Jack’s teasing. Her eyes were fixed on her father, searching his face for any hint of regret or remorse. She didn’t find any.

—You had no right,— she said finally, her voice trembling with barely contained frustration. —Papá, this is my life. My past. Not yours. You can’t just... just insert yourself into it like that.—

—Amelie,— Elias began, but she cut him off.

—No. You don’t get to do this. Not anymore.— She pushed her chair back, the sound grating against the floor as she stood. —Excuse me.—

She didn’t wait for anyone to respond. Grabbing her bag, she turned and walked briskly toward the exit, ignoring the concerned voices calling after her.

As the door swung shut behind her, the cool evening air hit her like a slap to the face. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her, but it was no use. The weight of everything—her father’s overprotectiveness, Lando’s lingering presence in her life, the distance growing between her and Rodrigo—was suffocating.

She leaned against the side of the building, closing her eyes and letting the noise of the city wash over her. But even then, she couldn’t escape it. The memories. The what-ifs. The lingering ache of a love she’d tried so hard to forget.

And the worst part? A small, stubborn part of her knew her father wasn’t entirely wrong.

[robiin-draws]

Team BEST character analysis

I am so normal about Team BEST So normal in fact that I wrote a whole character analysis about them

Anyway! We all know that Team BEST fell apart partway through LL, and was never able to repair itself. Let's start at the person who I think was the route of this problem…

Bdubs:

In Last Life, Bdubs is reckless. He makes a reckless deal that gets him down to yellow and then dies. He manages to get a life back, but then he dies again. This time it's Tango who needs to give him a life, but then he kills Tango, which is pretty much the start of their downfall. And on that subject…

Tango:

I may be biased because I love my little fire guy so much but lets look at it. Tango was used. He was used to give a life to Scar to save their base and to stop Scar from killing his team, he was used to get Bdubs off red, he was used to get Bdubs cured from the Boogeyman curse, and he lost his yellow life saving his team from a TnT minecart. Some of these were his decision, some were peer pressure, and some weren't his fault at all. Tango only actually died in Last Life three times, despite having six lives, and one was to his teammate. He gave THREE away, and even called himself a 'life dispenser' (which I'm so normal about btw. It makes me so sad.) Now, the player that pressured him to give so many in the first place…

Etho:

I don't have many thoughts on Etho specifically, mostly just on his relationships with people in the team. However, he does pressure Tango to give away life after life for the good of the team. He also is the one to send Bdubs on the mission to kill another red instead of giving him a life (a little hypocritical, isn't it?) And now the leader of the team…

Skizz:

Skizz is trying to lead a team that's falling apart at the seams. He tries to calm Tango down after Bdubs' Boogey kill, he tries to unite the team, but fails. And at the end of everything, they don't give him a life when he goes red, even though they did for Bdubs. And yet he's positive through everything, and he really does try, but can't stop his team from falling apart in the end.

And that's just the characters on their own! I haven't even started on the duo dynamics! Oh gosh this is gonna be long- Let's start with Ethdubs, shall we?

Etho and Bdubs are close in LL. Etho has an INCREDIBLE Bdubs bias in everything, and yet isn't quite willing to sacrifice his own lives for his best friend. They were initially teamed before Skizz and Tango reached out, and I honestly can't decide if they were better or worse off for that fact. They had plans, and they were good plans! But in the end, Bdubs is red and Etho is green, and Etho can't bring himself to give Bdubs a life just yet. Instead, he tells Bdubs that if he can kill another red name, he'll give him that green life. And Bdubs does, and Bdubs is ready for the life, but before he can get it he dies. It's Etho's fault really, and I think he knows it.

And now the other side of BEST, Skizz and Tango. They were friends immediately, within the first ten minutes, even. They met up just after the lives were distributed. They had plans, they made the Rocktopus together, although it became abandoned later. They joked, they had fun, and they were honest with each other. They cared. It doesn't stop Skizz from taking Bdubs' side on the Boogey kill matter (although it was mostly just an attempt to stop Tango from killing Bdubs on the spot and leaving) and I think that is when things go south in their relationship. When Skizz goes red, there's physically no way they can be friends anymore. The whole conversation they have in the cave under the Rocktopus makes me insane. Tango asks Skizz why he's stealing the sugarcane, hurt that he would take it after they planted it together. Skizz replied with "Look at my eyes buddy! They're red! My hair's red and all I see is BLOOD!" Tango says "I'm done! I'm done with you." afterward. Then Skizz drops some iron on the floor (the item Tango needed) and says "For old time's sake" which Tango takes and replies with something along the lines of "Is that all our relationship is now? Old times?" And Skizz says "You've always got a spot in my heart." They make me go so insane I'm sorry. Skizz also singles out Tango on one of his visits to the Snow Fort to steal stuff and tells him "I do miss ya buddy". He doesn't say this to Etho or Bdubs, just Tango. They want each other BADDD but they're in a death game and one is seeing red. It just wouldn't be safe.

Now Tango and Bdubs, they guys you've been waiting for! It's getting later in the game and Tango is on his fifth life (his 6th was given to Cleo) when Scar attacks the Snow Fort and threatens to blow it up. Now keep in mind that this isn't even Tango's base, his is the Rocktopus, but he's pressured into giving away his fifth life to save not only the Snow Fort, but Bdubs is getting chased down by Scar, so he gives a life to save his teammate, and it won't be the last time. When Bdubs dies to Mumbo's boogey kill, he's again asked to give up a life, putting him on his third. At this point, he's calling himself a life dispenser (please it makes me so sad) Tango cares about Bdubs, but not enough to willingly give him lives (he was peer pressured) and Bdubs cares about Tango, but not enough to spare him from a boogey kill. And that boogey kill, ohhhh that boogey kill. Tango gets hit and immediately knows what's happening. He runs, but can't get away from Bdubs. When he wakes up, he is MAD. And I mean MAD. Tango rage sounds like heavy breathing and laughter through gritted teeth, and that is exactly what he sounded like. He's the first person to literally see red in a life series, despite not actually being red at the time. Bdubs insists that he had to, that he doesn't understand, and I think this quote sums up Tango's feelings about the situation "No I don't get it! I'm never Boogeyman, I'm just a life dispenser." When he says it his voice even breaks a little on 'I'm just a life dispenser.' which breaks ME- For the rest of the series, Tango is constantly making jabs at Bdubs for the incident and even tries to hire Scar to kill him. Aka Tango and Bdubs already didn't have a very good relationship and then Bdubs messed it up worse.

And now we have Tango and Etho, the last extremely important pairing. Once again, there's the life dispenser thing. The lives were often to save Bdubs, but it's Etho who pressured Tango into giving them. They make jabs at each other even before the Bdubs incident, and afterwards, it gets worse. Someone will come over on a yellow or even green name and Etho will jokingly tell Tango to give them a life (seems a little cruel if you ask me) even when Tango has less lives than he does. Aka he's just kinda mean (and I love him for it)

Conclusion of this essay: Bdubs and Etho are not good for each other and really mean to Tango. Skizz is trying to lead a broken team, and Tango is a life dispenser. They are not healthy for each other in the slightest but that's why they're so interesting!

[starpains]

Very curious about Not Your Average Pet!

This one is been a WIP for way too long, I already have like 11k written for it, and that's like... half of the fic, I think.

I got a lovely prompt some time ago that just said "Werewolves", so you know, my brain went all buzzy with possibility. I immediately went back to my days in the Teen Wolf fandom and all the fave tropes that could be found there.

The fic has Obi-Wan, a very average dude, a psychiatrist living in Northern California, suddenly come across a wolf during a lil' hike in the Redwood National Park. The wolf follows him home for some reason, and Obi-Wan kinda... adopts it? Except it's not a wolf at all as it later turns out 😎. It's a werewolf, who has imprinted on Obi-Wan, though of course he doesn't know that.

Basically a werewolf soulmate AU. Obi-Wan's called Ben here as usual with my modern AUs.

Sharing a lil' snippet below:

---

There, seated right in front of the door, was the wolf. Massive, with earthy brown fur and piercing blue eyes, it was unmistakable. Ben let out a strangled gasp before he could stop himself. In an instant, the wolf lifted its head, locking its gaze onto him through the glass, their eyes meeting in eerie stillness.

He dropped the curtain as if it had burned him, taking quick steps backward—only to trip over a dining chair, sending both it and himself crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

“Doctor Kenobi? Is everything alright?” Barriss’s voice drifted from the office, laced with worry.

Ben scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off as he tried to regain his composure. “E-Everything’s—fine, Barriss. I’ll—I’ll be right with you!”

Grabbing his phone, he fumbled to pull up a number, his fingers clumsily tapping as he searched for animal control. After a few tense moments, he dialed, holding the phone to his ear, each ring feeling like an eternity.

Finally, a bored voice answered. “Animal control.”

“There’s a wolf in my backyard,” he blurted, his voice edged with panic.

A pause. “Sir, there are no wolves in California.”

“There are! I saw this one in the Redwood National Park yesterday, and now it’s followed me home!” Desperation crept into his tone despite himself.

The voice on the other end remained unimpressed. “Sir, it must be an overgrown dog. We’ll send someone to pick it up.”

“Please do!” he implored, rattling off his address with a touch of desperation.

After hanging up, Ben took a steadying breath, then returned to Barriss, visibly ruffled. She gave him a raised eyebrow but resumed her session, though her eyes darted to him with more than a few curious glances.

Finally, not too long after Barriss left, a firm knock sounded at the door. Ben opened it to find two men standing on his front step, dressed in beige uniforms with patches reading “Humboldt County Animal Control.” Their expressions were blank, bordering on apathetic. Behind them, a white pickup truck was parked by the curb, the county logo clearly visible on the door.

“We’re here to answer the call about a stray dog,” one of them said, holding a clipboard in hand. “But there’s no dog in your backyard.”

“That’s because it’s a wolf, not a dog,” Ben replied, irritation threading into his voice.

The man on the left sighed, clearly unimpressed. “Sir, there is no animal in your backyard, dog or otherwise. Now, if you’ll sign here…”

Ben scowled, pushing the clipboard aside. “At least come with me to check. It was right there.”

Exchanging resigned glances, the two men followed him around to the backyard. But when they reached the spot, the wolf was gone. Instead, sitting neatly in the middle of the rounded indent in the lawn, was a small collection of clean, scattered bones.

Ben gestured toward the pile, frustration mounting. “Look! It left… bones. I don’t even know what these are from.”

The men barely looked, casting an unimpressed glance at each other. “We don’t pick up bones,” one of them said flatly, pushing the clipboard at Ben again.

With a reluctant sigh, Ben signed the form, watching as they turned and left without a word, climbing back into their truck and pulling away.

Once they were gone, Ben fetched a plastic bag and a pair of grill tongs from the kitchen. With a look of deep disgust, he crouched beside the pile of bones, holding the tongs at an awkward angle as he gingerly picked each one up. His face twisted as he dropped them blindly into the bag, every click of bone against bone making his skin crawl. By the time he was done, he muttered a curse under his breath, shuddering and holding the bag at arm’s length like it might bite him back.

[sweetiesicheng]

ateez - birthday

yeosang x reader

word count : 1,064

happy birthday to me haha

-

after a day of schedules with the guys, you hang out with them at one of the dorms. you lay your head on yeosang's lap while going through some photos that you need to delete.

"y/n, what are you doing for your birthday?" wooyoung asks you.

you pull your phone away from your view for a second. "we have a late shoot, don't we?" you reply, looking up at yeosang.

"yea, the shoot is pretty long," he replies. "and i think you'll be the only artist with me tomorrow too."

"you're not flying home?" yunho asks you.

you shake your head, "i didn't take time off. i'll probably just do dinner or something. i just haven't felt like planning," you laugh. "oh, i need to call about an appointment. i'll be back," you mention and get up from where you're sitting. you leave the room and use hongjoong's room to make a phone call while the guys stay in the living room.

"should we plan something?" wooyoung immediately asks.

"if all of us don't have to wake up early the next day, we could do something late tomorrow," hongjoong says, looking over his personal calendar. "i'm free," he mentions.

"i'm free too," seonghwa speaks after turning his phone screen off.

"let's plan something. she'll be really happy," jongho says.

—

"babe, can you touch up my makeup? i want to take some photos," yeosang asks you.

"of course," you answer and gesture him to sit down. "i thought you took photos earlier?" you question him.

"i want to take some more," he replies. "can we take some together?" he asks.

you nod, "yea, sure."

you fix his makeup and his hair, making sure everything is the same as before he left for the shoot. you fix his outfit and grab your camera.

"can i take some pictures of your makeup?" you ask him while checking the last few photos on your camera.

"don't you have a bunch of me already?" yeosang asks as you two step out of the room.

"it just helps my portfolio," you reply. "besides, i rather print photos of us from here. this camera is a good one."

yeosang smiles, "alright. let's go get your photos."

you and yeosang go to a popular spot backstage to take photos at. both of you take photos of each other with you mainly taking photos of him. you highlight his makeup for most of the photos since you want to post them to your work account.

one of his managers takes some photos of the two of you afterwards. that way, you two have some photos that you can keep for yourself.

—

meanwhile...

"isn't this too much?" san asks while trying to peel tape off of a roll.

the half decorated dorm is a mess. decorations are everywhere and the guys are trying to make the room as presentable as possible. luckily, yeosang and yunho have furniture now, but it’s still a mess at the moment.

"what's taking jongho and seonghwa so long?" hongjoong questions while opening the package of a "happy birthday" banner.

"jongho probably dropped the cake," mingi answers. he takes some balloons to the walls.

"no, you would drop the cake," yunho replies as hongjoong hands him the banner. "someone hand me tape," he requests.

"here," wooyoung says, handing a new roll of tape to yunho. "hyung, help me set the table," he says to san.

"sure."

the group continues to set up the living room. eventually, seonghwa and jongho arrive with dinner and a birthday cake.

"you guys should of seen the lines," seonghwa says as he sets down some bags.

"y/n's favorite bakery is so expensive," jongho comments, looking at the receipt again, "and they go to this place all the time!"

"they do love their treats and drinks from there," hongjoong says as he takes items out of one bag. "anyone have a time check?" he asks.

wooyoung looks at his phone, "yeosang texted. he says twenty minutes."

mingi peeks at wooyoung's phone. "dude, that was twenty minutes ago."

"oh no."

—

"babe, i'm too cold," you whine to yeosang. "i thought you said we were getting dinner first."

"we are getting dinner. i just need to grab something from the dorm," he says and checks the time.

"did you need a reservation for somewhere?" you ask him.

he shakes his head, "no, but i wanna show you to this place later," he mentions. you two head to the dorm, bringing both his and your stuff so you can drop it off before you go out.

right before you reach the front door. yeosang steps behind you, "okay, i'm going to cover your eyes!"

"huh? yeo—"

"just go with it," he says to you.

“but it’s just the dorm.”

“i said go with it.”

you let yeosang lead you down the hallway. after a short walk, he stops walking but moves you over a few steps.

"three, two, one!"

you hear the door open and yeosang uncovers your eyes.

"happy birthday!"

you discover the decorated dorm with the rest of your friends. you stand there confused and surprised that everyone has been involved with your birthday.

you look at yeosang. "yeo..."

"happy birthday baby," he says and kisses your cheek.

"hey! save the pda! we got candles to blow out and food to eat!" wooyoung speaks up.

“y/n, we really need to talk about the bakery you love,” jongho comments as he holds a drink in his hand.

you step into the room while laughing. yunho comes over to you with a cake in his hands. it's a simple cake but it's more than enough for you.

everyone starts singing "happy birthday" to you. you smile and quickly make a wish after the song ends. then, you blow the candles out and everyone cheers.

"let's get this party started!" mingi announces while you become the center of attention for tonight.

everyone starts diving into the food that was bought, and you start with a piece of cake. you sit at the table next to yeosang, who has his arm around your shoulders.

"so we're not going out later?" you ask yeosang.

"hey, i never said that," he replies, "we'll go out after this, alright?" you nod. "happy?"

"more than happy," you reply. "love you."

"love you more, birthday girl," he says and kisses your cheek again.

[bloodtwin]

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Anonymous sent: Myshka has arrived!! *sits in puck's lap* "Mermer."

──────────────────────────────

Oh, yikes. It's not that Puck doesn't like cats. He loves cats, but they don't normally love him. He doesn't blame them. Cats are smart creatures; they can likely tell he's not one to be trifled with. Perhaps they see their own fickle nature reflected back at them, and it turns them away. Or he scares them. Whatever the reason, Puck tends to admire them from a distance rather than up-close.

So, to have one in his lap like this ⸻ so trusting, so vulnerable & exposed ⸻ he almost PANICS. Tenses, hands awkwardly hovering in the air because he doesn't know where to put them.

Cats are soft & squishy little things. Too squishy. Too adorable. So small in comparison to his hands. They remind him of someone. The truth is, he has something of a dog-like reaction to them, as he is wont to do. He either wants to PLAY with them or he wants to EAT THEM. If he's around a cat for too long, he always gets the urge to squeeze them until they ⸻

. . . Mermer ？

Puck blinks. It takes him a second to decipher the accent, but then the meaning of the word is clear. This cat thinks he's its mother. Oh. Oh, that is so cute. His heart swells, and he can't help but reach out to stroke Myshka's fur, tentative & mindful of his claws. With a gentle laugh, he says, ❝ Silly kitty. I'm not ⸻ ❞

Um. Why Is His Tail Wagging. Probably just because it's cute. Nothing to do with the idea of being perceived as a MATERNAL FIGURE for a FELINE. That would be weird, right ？He's not a cat. He's not even a woman. He can't be a cat's mother. This is ridiculous.

But Puck can't seem to hear his own thoughts as he scoops Myshka up into his arms like one would cradle a baby, holding him close. ❝ Hello, my son. ❞

[fisheito]

@halfetirosie @fallencelsetial Reply that makes me cheerfully repeat it outloud . then Reply that makes me instantly drop my smile

[umilily]

i've been here for less than 2 days and i'm already exhausted by this household.

[rosetintedgunman]

@eighthjuror - Continued from here

-

Phantom's irritation didn't appear to faze the trespasser. In fact, Wilford had crouched down so he could adjust a sparkler. It was letting off pale red sparks. It worked wonderfully with the glitter!

"If I was on th' other side of th' counter, I wouldn't be able ta reach th' stuff," answered Wilford in a matter-of-fact tone. "Besides, there's only so much pullin' pints an' makin' gin and tonics a fella can do. An' anyway -" He lifted the glass so he could compare the drink to the actual owner of the bar, "- it suits ya. Bit more colour makes th' world a lot better."