#i genuinely hope this is what i think it is

[edwinisms]

george rexstrew deserves awards for many things but i have to say. edwin’s bloodcurdling scream as niko gets killed deserves a whole award unto itself. like. that scream did not feel at all like a tv show scream. to a somewhat jarring degree. and i can’t express how much I respect that

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Tim and Danny are half-siblings

Champagne glasses shine in the light like jewelry on people’s wrists and necks and cuff links and literally anywhere else someone can fit. Honestly it’s giving Tim a headache.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only one suffering at this pointless gala. Not that the fundraiser for homeless kids in the city is pointless, but did they really need to throw an expensive party?

“You okay, Timmy? You’ve sighed like four times now,” Dick comments on the comms they all have in.

“Yea, I just-“

“Mr. Drake! How nice it is to see you again. Have you met my son, Daniel?”

Tim turns to find Vlad Masters, CEO of dalvco, dragging along a teen who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here. The boy, Daniel, glares at the hand holding him by the arm.

“It’s Danny,” like it was the hundredth time saying the phrase.

Masters pretends he doesn’t hear it.

Tim is already working on how to get out of this conversation. He’s dealt with too many parents pushing their kids in his direction tonight.

He throws on a smile anyway and holds out his hand for a shake.

“Tim Drake-Wayne, nice to meet you, Danny.”

Danny hesitates for a second and it results in a tightening of the jaw and subtle glance to where he was glaring before as if Masters just tightened his grip on the teen. Tim says nothing about the awkward pause.

Danny shifts his weight to subtly step on Masters polish shoes, drawing the attention of the man and allowing Danny to slip a piece of paper into the handshake. Tim raises his eyebrows for Danny to see before falling back to pleasant neutral. He tucks the note into his pocket casually.

“Same.”

Tim’s smile becomes a bit more genuine at the teenage behavior.

“Now then,” Masters jumps in after getting himself situated, “I had been meaning to make an appointment with you, but every time I call you are always busy.”

Tim knew this was coming.

“I’m not receiving any calls about the Drake name, Mr. Masters, as you are well aware.”

“You would think that as a young businessman you would look to someone with more experience.”

He really wasn’t being subtle at all, was he?

“I wonder how Bruce would react if he heard you,” Tim warns even though he knows full well Bruce can actively hear the conversation. He turns to Danny while Masters is recovering from that reminder. “Our newest adoptee is about your age. Duke Thomas. He should be around here somewhere if you want to exchange numbers.”

Danny opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off. Masters’ hand goes from clenching the teen’s arm to squeezing his shoulder in what appears to be a warning.

“Oh no, I forgot to mention, Daniel’s entire family and his friends, along with an unfortunate teacher, all died recently in a terrible accident. I was given custody of the poor boy, of course. He’s like the son I never had. Anyway, we wouldn’t want to upset him by replacing what he recently lost, would we? He needs his space to grieve.”

The condescension with the insensitive wording left Tim speechless for a moment, and with the silence over the comms so were everyone else listening.

Tim finds Danny glaring down at the floor with clenched fists. The teen rips himself away from Masters, and when the man tries to chastise him, he turns and stares the man down with such a hateful expression that Tim had to keep from tensing. He had seen too many of those looks in the field, usually on the faces of those he was fighting.

Whatever silent conversation that was happening between the two was ended with Danny grinding his teeth and running away to what looks to be the direction of the restrooms.

“So sorry about him,” Masters apologizes like it wasn’t his fault Danny almost committed a crime. “He’s a bit sensitive right now. I honestly had hoped he would feel better after getting out of the house.”

Masters sighs almost theatrically, “Enough of that. Here is my business card for when you finally decide to-“

Tim walked away before he could finish.

It’s in the bathroom that he finds Duke talking to the door of one of the stalls. They make eye contact but all that’s there is concern and confusion. Danny wasn’t talking.

“Hey, Danny, right? How you holding up? That was kinda rough, huh?” Tim tries.

Silence. Then, “Did you read my note?” He hears come from the other side, small and thin.

Right. The note. Tim pulls it out of his pocket quickly.

“Yea, yea, I read your note,” he lies as he’s quietly unfolding said note. “It’s just, you know… oh.”

Duke raises his brows in surprise at Tim’s sudden change in tone and expression. Tim couldn’t even guess what his face was doing but it was the least of his worries. The younger leans in to read over his shoulder.

“Oh,” agrees Duke.

I think we are half-siblings. Please help me take him down. I’ll send DNA if you need it. It can’t wait.

Oh indeed.

“What does ‘oh’ mean?” Dick suddenly asks over the comms which Tim forgot were still in. “Guys, seriously, do I need to come in there?”

“No,” Tim answers quickly only to realize that Danny can hear it too. “Duke, can you cover the door?”

“Sure, man.”

Tim takes a deep breath and shoves his emotions way down. Danny was already upset and obviously trusting Tim with this, he needed to be a solid support that his little brother this teen can lean on.

It could also be a trap.

“Danny, can you come out please?”

There was hesitation in the air, but he finally hears the click of the lock and the door swings open. The poor kid was holding himself tightly and shrinking into himself, afraid of Tim’s reaction.

“Danny,” he says gently. Danny still flinches. “Why do you think we’re half-siblings?”

He lets the teen chew on his lip for a few moments before he has to repeat himself.

“I was going through my parent’s stuff,” Danny rushes out, “like paperwork and stuff… I found a box pushed way back with letters. At first I thought they were my parents’ old love letters, but it wasn’t my dad’s handwriting even though he signed it ‘Jack’. There was also a picture of my mom and your dad together on an excavation site. The date on the back made a lot of sense because when you add nine months, that’s my birthday.”

Danny looked at Tim with such a lost expression that Tim felt a bit lost himself.

“I never would have thought my dad would cheat on my mom. He was too afraid of what would happen if he did, I thought,” Tim says, leaning into it a little.

“Right? I never thought my mom would, my parents were infatuated with each other, but maybe they were having problems at the time? I don’t know, I didn’t actually read the letters.”

“Can I look through them?”

Danny blinks and then rubs the back of his neck anxiously.

“I mean, yea, but they’re back at my parent’s house in Illinois. I would have to find a way to send them to you, but Vlad is kinda watching my every move at the moment so-“

“What if I went alone?” Tim jumps in the suggest. “I have enough money to go on a mini vacation. I could sneak in when everyone’s asleep and find them.”

“Honestly I doubt it’s locked. You could just walk right in. If you don’t mind the wasted gas, then okay, sure. Need the address?”

Tim respects the confidence and trust.

“Nah, I got it, but I will still need that DNA sample.”

Danny swallows nervously.

“Right, um, what- what do you need? I don’t know how this works.”

Tim nods and a smile to calm the teen down. His nervousness was definitely noted though.

“That’s okay. I’ve done this plenty of times with women who claim their child is Bruce’s. Always ends the same.”

Funnily enough, Danny relaxes at the reassurance lined with warning.

“Oh, that’s good. Okay. Just tell me what you need. Can we do it right now?”

Danny glances at the door and Tim understands the rush.

“Sure, come here,” Tim waves them over to the little sitting area. He pulls out his pocket knife with a mischievous smirk. “Don’t tattle on me.”

Danny stares with a wide smile and even wider eyes. It’s kinda funny how excited he is when most people would wonder why Tim was pulling a knife on them. Maybe they were brothers.

“Whoa, how’d you sneak that in? There was a whole metal detector and everything,” Danny fans.

“A true magician never reveals his tricks,” he smiles at Danny’s pout.

“Lame. You probably paid off one of the waiters or something.”

He actually planted it in one of the plants inside before the event even started, but the kid was close.

“Or something.”

“I always wanted one,” Danny murmurs wistfully.

“I’ll get you one,” is out of his mouth before he knew it.

“What?” Danny jerks up in surprise. “No, you don’t have to do that. I wasn’t expecting-“

“I know,” Tim cuts off the guilty ramblings. “I want to. You should have one.”

“Aw, little Timmy is bonding with his brother,” Dick coos over the comms.

“We don’t know that for sure, Richard,” Damian reminds.

“He sounds pretty legit to me,” Duke adds.

Tim ignores them for the most part.

“Lift up your leg. I’m just gonna give you a small cut on your calf to get some blood. It’ll be quick, okay?”

“Okay.”

Danny doesn’t make a sound when metal meets skin and slices through. He presses down on the wound with his handkerchief to collect the blood. Of course that wasn’t enough for him to cover all the bases, so he asked Danny to spit in his empty champagne glass, which the teen complied with zero complaints.

“Is that it?” Danny asks curiously.

“Yep! I’ll run them down to the lab ASAP and compare against mine. I’ll let you know about the results when they come back. Let me get your phone number.”

Tim was quietly getting more hopeful with how cooperative Danny had been. He hands over his phone easily with a chirped “sure!” to also let Tim put in his number.

“We have to be careful though. Vlad’s been over my shoulder since I moved in. If he finds anything he doesn’t like, it won’t be good,” Danny laughed it off like that was normal.

Tim had suspected a heavy hand with the shoulder squeezing earlier bordering on abuse with what and how he said what he did, but it was looking worse than his original hypothesis.

“Danny,” he says softly, like when he talks to a victim as Robin. Which might ring true here and Tim was already getting angry about the whole thing, if the abuse is real, he might fly off the handle and Kon will be forced to reign him back in. “Do you want to tell me about Masters?”

Danny immediately goes on the defensive, looking around the empty room and shoulders going stiff.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Danny denies.

Tim isn’t surprised, but he also isn’t happy.

“I have more power than you might think, Danny. I can help you.”

Danny shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I don’t- You- It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me. Please trust me, Danny. I can help get you out-“

“This isn’t about me!”

His words ring off the tile, making it louder than intended. Danny flinches at the sound and looks to the door with anxious eyes.

“Hey,” Tim whispers. It still makes the teen jump. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I know that,” Danny snaps, but Tim knows not to take it personally.

“Alright,” Tim agrees easily. That seems to make Danny relax a bit. “What did you mean it’s not about you? It’s your DNA we’re checking against mine.”

Danny bites his lip in anxious contemplation. Looks like Tim is gonna have to pull this one out like teeth.

“Is there someone else involved?”

Danny hesitates but finally nods.

“You can trust me, Danny. I won’t do anything that isn’t in your best interest. I promise.”

Danny’s lip is bleeding but neither of them say a word. He looks desperate and alone. It makes Tim’s skin crawl.

“Promise you won’t do anything yet?”

Tim nearly sighs with relief.

“Yes. I promise.”

“So you won’t tell? You can’t tell,” Danny insists.

Technically it wouldn’t be telling if they can hear him in real time.

“I promise I won’t do or say anything. Whatever is said here is confidential, alright? I won’t tell anyone,” Tim assures.

It seems to do the trick because Danny creeps closer to whisper after checking the door one more time.

“Vlad is my godfather. Uncle Vlad, right? He has always wanted a son and he was obsessed with my mom, so when he met me he, I don’t know, flipped a switch or something and his attention was on me all the time if it wasn’t on Mom. He wanted me to renounce my dad and go live with him. Obviously that didn’t happen so he tried the next best thing apparently and decided he was gonna make a clone of me.”

Danny pauses and Tim needs it to seriously contemplate what even is his life.

“It didn’t work out the way he planned and the only clone to make it was a girl, my cousin, Danielle. Yes, he named her after me. Some things happened, we worked it out, so Danielle was on my side and hates Vlad, right? Well, when everything happened,” he swallows thickly, “Danielle came back from traveling to be with me. Vlad took that opportunity to confine her to the basement. He never wanted a daughter. He never cared about her. So now he’s using her as leverage against me. If I try anything or don’t do what he says, she’s the one that gets punished. If I try to run away, he’d kill her. I know he would. And before I knew about you, she was the only-“

“The only family you had left,” Tim finishes.

Danny nods with a pleading expression.

Tim can understand the primal urge to be close to a blood relative that actually cares.

“Now you have me,” Tim offers with a small smile.

Danny makes the effort to try and smile back, though it falls flat quickly.

“We don’t know that yet. I could be wrong. I’m sorry I threw all this at you, I just- When I found those letters and thought that… I just-“

“I get it.” And he did. He really, really did. “You know, even if we aren’t related I still want to-“

Danny’s phone rings, making the teen jump. He glances at the name calling with a scowl. He doesn’t answer.

“Vlad’s looking for me. I gotta go, but, um, thanks… for taking my word for it and being so nice about it. I promise I’m not trying to pull something for your money. I didn’t even know you were rich until I looked you up-“

“Danny.” Tim was coming to the conclusion that Danny tend to ramble when nervous. He stands and guides the kid toward the door. “It’s okay. I know you’re not lying. I’ll text you the results, okay? We’ll figure this out. Just be patient for me, alright?”

Danny nods and fidgets with his suit coat. He doesn’t make a move to leave yet, instead he turns to face Tim.

“Um, you can say no. I just- is it okay if I hug you?”

Tim blanks for a solid few seconds. It’s only Dick’s cooing and Damian’s sassing that snaps him back to reality. This was real, he has to remind himself. He might have a half-brother and he wants a hug. Tim can do hugs. He can crush a hug, totally.

“Uh, yea. Hugs are okay.”

Danny must not care about his awkward response because he suddenly has thin arms around his waist and soft hair tickling his cheek. They were at the ideal height difference where Danny can rest his head on Tim’s shoulder comfortably. Tim wraps his arms around the teen’s shoulders and just felt.

If Danny really is his half-brother, then fate really is cruel to deprive him of this kinship all throughout his childhood.

Danny pulls away first, face to the ground, and ears red.

With a wavering voice he stumbles out an apology and a thanks before bolting out the door, narrowly running into Dick. He’s disappeared into the crowd in a blink.

“You okay, Tim?” Dick asks.

Tim blinks, “I have a brother.”

“A possible half-brother, but yea, still exciting.”

“The results will come back a match,” Tim says confidently.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Drake. This Daniel sounds pathetic, he would only hold you back.”

“Damian, there is nothing pathetic about trying to protect someone. Danny is thinking about his little cousin,” Dick argues. Damian doesn’t dispute.

“My parents never loved each other,” Tim confesses. “It was a marriage of mutual convenience. It is very possible that my dad found a lover outside their marriage.”

It was weird talking about his parents like that, but it was true. His mother told him once that marriage isn’t about love, it’s a contract between two people with mutual interests and values. His father was always somewhat withdrawn.

Danny had the black hair, the blue eyes, and even the skin tone to match his own. His jaw line was wider and eyebrows thicker, but honestly, they could be brothers if they stood side by side. Half-siblings isn’t even a stretch.

“He’s my brother. I know it.”

Tim spots a flash of silver hair from the crowd and narrows his eyes into slits.

“My brother who is being abused by his caretaker apparently,” he says in a voice that sounds like he’s planning a murder.

Huh. Now that’s a thought.

He could just kill Masters, that would certainly get him out of the way.

“I don’t like that look,” Dick says cautiously, leaning to bring Tim attention to him and not Masters hunting down his little brother. “We’ll help him, Tim. Don’t go overboard here. You can’t afford to get too emotionally involved.”

Tim sends a glare his way.

“Why don’t I prove what I already know, then?”

“Tim-“

He already had the champagne glass in his jacket pocket and his handkerchief in his breast pocket. He shoves past Dick and heads toward the front doors. No one stops him as he leaves the party early and hails a cab back to the manor to start his analysis.

It’s a half a day later when Tim sends a text with an emoji of two males holding hands and a green check mark. It’s an hour later that he gets a shooting star in response. He smiles widely and then gets to work on planning Masters’ demise and his brother’s and ‘cousin’s’ escape into his custody.

[my-castles-crumbling]

knee - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 311

It had been seven months, now. Seven months of James asking him to go to every single Hogsmeade visit, event, party, anything he could think of. Every time something came up, Regulus expected James to have grown bored. To ask someone else. But every time, he asked him.

He was never disrespectful. He just always asked, his eyes hopeful, his voice kind. But Regulus turned him down, because he knew he was just a flight of fancy.

But a small, childish part of him hoped. Hoped that maybe, James was being genuine. That even as he did silly things like get down on one knee in front of Regulus's friends and propose a Hogsmeade outing, it wasn't just for the attention or because he thought he was pretty.

But it wasn't like he could give in. Because he actually felt something.

So he continued to respond with biting retorts and eyerolls, waiting for the self-fulfilled prophecy to come to fruition.

"You're going to regret it," Dorcas told him one day, her eyes stern but caring. "Why the fuck won't you give him a chance?"

And those words stayed with him. Ate at him. Until the next time.

"Hogsmeade this weekend, Reg?" James asked him, bounding up to him like an energetic dog, eyes bright.

He took a deep breath. "Yes."

"That's alright! Next time, maybe," he was already going on as if Regulus had rejected him, freezing halfway through his acceptance before he realized. "I- what?"

"Alright, Potter. I'll go with you," Regulus breathed, heart in his throat.

And James suddenly looked as if he'd won the lottery. "Holy shit," he murmured, eyes as wide as saucers. "Holy shit! I have to tell everyone!" And, running away, he only seemed to remember himself halfway up the stairs. "Oh, erm! Eleven? Does that work?"

Fighting back a laugh, Regulus nodded. "Sure."

"Brilliant!"

[manikas-whims]

the fake dating u did was so good, like, ate and left no crumbs?? and i feel like its so spot on?? you did amazing thank you so much for ur writing

could u do a follow up on it?? i need to see the angst and confusion of the reader and the fluff at the end 🥹🥹

have a good day!!

OMG thank you for the shower of compliments 🫶😭

As i said in another ask, i wrote those HCs as a one shot thingy, and i’m still shocked so many wanted a part 2 so here it is!..FINALLY!

with a dash of misunderstandings, a sprinkling of pent-up desires and a spoonful of angst with a happy ending.

APOLOGIES FOR THE LONG WAIT. HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT! ♡

Fake Dating the Love and Deepspace men but you catch feelings pt. 2

new readers make sure to read [PART 1] before you read this..

ZAYNE

❄️ You know you crossed a line when you requested Zayne to kiss you.

❄️ That one kiss led to the start of many more. Now Zayne kisses you whenever he drops you off at work and whenever he comes by to pick you up. And before you can even realize, they've become a part of your normal routine.

❄️ Speaking of kisses, they aren't merely innocent pecks anymore. Now they feel passionate and longer, involve a little tease of the tongue here and there, and always leave you weak in the knees.

❄️ But this controlled manner of feeding off of his generosity is proving to be quite difficult for you. If anything, the kisses have made you greedier. Every time his lips touch you, you hope that it doesn't simply end there. That he doesn't stop. You desire more than you should out of this fake relationship. You desire more than you deserve.

❄️ But before this desire of yours can take over and make you do something you can never take back, you decide to end things with Zayne.

❄️ It's a normal evening in his office. He's sorting through his patients’ files when you call out to him.

❄️ He looks up and patiently awaits whatever it is you have to tell him.

❄️ You feel your lips quiver.

❄️ Zayne may have agreed to be your fake boyfriend because you had practically begged him to but he isn't obligated to give you anything that isn't needed. Him picking and dropping you to and from work, sharing meals together and kissing you in front of others is already so generous of him.

❄️ That is all it should've been. Only you ended up developing real feelings.

❄️ But if you let this farce run any longer, you'll end up mistaking his kindness for genuine affection. You'll end up fooling yourself into thinking its real. Not just for you but him as well. That your feelings are reciprocated.

❄️ Your mouth opens and shuts, as you try to muster the courage before softly murmuring. “I think we should stop.”

❄️ For a moment, he stares at you, unmoving as ice. Then his mouth motions but you don't hear word. You run away.

❄️ Days pass with you ignoring Zayne's calls and texts. You skip work as well in order to avoid him.

❄️ Your doorbell rings one night and you almost jump. Dread instantly begins pooling in your belly. What if it's Zayne?

❄️ With anxious limbs, you answer the door only to find your friend Tara.

❄️ Tara tells you that she was only trying to set you up on dates because she hasn't seen you genuinely whole ever since you lost your family. That she wanted you to have someone who could complete you. But now that she's seen you with Zayne, her worries have faded into thin air. She is happy for you two. She is happy to see you happy after so long.

❄️ Though her words may have been supportive and full of warmth, they only make you feel worse. You end up crying and spilling the truth– the entire truth about the fake dating arrangement.

❄️ To your surprise, Tara is as kind as Zayne and instantly empathizes with you. She understands. And she apologizes for being so forceful in her attempts to look out for you by finding you dates.

❄️ Tara comforts you for a while but before departing, she suggests you come clean to Zayne and confess. She believes that it will all turn out fine in the end.

❄️ Well, its easier for her to say that. You're the one who actually grew up with Zayne. You know he's always been an honest man and how much it will hurt him when he learns that you've been taking advantage of your arrangement to enjoy his affectionate gestures. That after a while, you began deliberately prolonging the kisses in hopes of getting something more..

❄️ You wake up the next morning to incessant knocking at your door, and wonder if it's Tara again, come all this to check up on you.

❄️ Sleepily you answer the door. And the drowsiness dissipates from your eyes the moment you find the familiar tall figure of your childhood friend clad in his tight black shirt and dark trousers.

❄️ Dread seeps into your being once more and you lower your head in shame. If Zayne is here then it can only mean one thing. You knew this was bound to happen. But you are a coward nonetheless, and you can't bear to look at him as he breaks your heart.

❄️ Zayne let's out a breath and speaks. “That evening in my office..I’m sorry if its because of something I did..”

❄️ His apology makes you feel sick. You will not let him take the blame for your own misdeeds.

❄️ “No Zayne, I’m the one who asked for your help. And I didn't even consider the fact that I might catch feelings for you.” You pause to collect your thoughts. “But I know how wrong and stupid I was for it. And that is why I ended things between us. Before I could do something worse and spoil our—”

❄️ You stop abruptly as Zayne pushes the door further open and steps up on the threshold, hovering intimidatingly over you. He tilts his head low and speaks. “The arrangement wasn't just yours. Any decisions related to it should be reached only after proper discussion between the parties involved.”

❄️ His statement takes you by surprise and you finally move your lashes to hesitantly look up at his face. “I didn't think it mattered to you. I thought you were merely being kind and helpful..like always.”

❄️ “On the contrary, I was enjoying our little arrangement. After all,” Zayne inches even closer, his voice an octave lower. “it allowed me to spend more time in the company of the person I yearn for.”

❄️ It isn't his statement but the intensity of his gaze that arouses a tiny flicker of hope within you. “Zayne..you..I thought..I was the only one taking advantage of the situation..”

❄️ He chuckles lightly. “Apparently we both were. It seems our arrangement stopped being fake the moment we kissed.”

❄️ That tiny flicker of hope bursts into a lively flame of desire. “Then, you also wanted it to be real?”

❄️ He gives no verbal response but his lips quirk up into the barest hint of a smile as he nods.

❄️ For a moment, you stare at each other, processing all the words exchanged; the next, Zayne takes off his glasses and and tucks them in his pocket. And your lips find his, like many times this past week. Only now, neither of you stop just there for this isn’t pretense anymore. It's mutual, and it's real.

❄️ His hands slip beneath your shirt, cold fingers leaving a trail of warmth along every inch they touch.

❄️ And he kisses you harder, his tongue prying your lips apart as he pushes you inside the house and shuts the door behind him.

XAVIER

⭐ Things have been going pretty well ever since that “incident” in front of your apartment door. The creepy resident has stopped showing up.

⭐ You can freely enjoy the gym and pool in your apartment complex and everything else without the constant intrusion of that weirdo.

⭐ And although Xavier still goes out for morning laps and evening walks with you, accompanies you for the exercise sessions and even checks up on you at your apartment, he has cut-down on everything else. He is holding your hand a lot less and doesn't slip his arms around your waist as much.

⭐ It’s only fair though. Since the strange man isn't hitting on you anymore, there isn't much need for Xavier to act either.

⭐ You can live with it. Bear with him not engaging in any sort of skinship anymore. But your mind simply cannot forget the way his lips had felt against your own.

⭐ In the loneliness of the moonlit nights, you often find your fingers tracing the same spot his lips had sucked on your neck. You close your eyes and revisit the memory of his lips pressed gently upon yours. The memory of him kissing you a second time but with much more impatience and fervor. And you wish he'd do it all again.

⭐ It's not even surprising that you like Xavier. The guy has been nothing but helpful, protective and co-operative. And he indulges all your requests– from hanging out at the claw machine or playing kitty cards to something as unnecessary as a late night walk– when he could be spending that time reading a book or dozing-off.

⭐ You have found Xavier attractive ever since your first encounter. It's just that only now his searing kisses have left a mark upon your heart. Made you realise that you harbor an emotion far deeper than mere attraction for this man. And it's quite vexing how quickly he seems to have moved on from those shared kisses.

⭐ How can he smile at you with the same lips that nearly stole your breath away? How can he simply go on with his life while you lie awake in bed at nights, reminiscing those moments over and over?

⭐ Xavier has completely ruined you.

⭐ You can neither focus on work nor are you interested in gossiping with Tara and Nero. And to make matters worse, you get assigned to a mission with the last person you wanna face right now— the eccentric, silver-haired neighbor who claims to have killed more than 70,000 wanderers. The same man who had you pinned against a door just a week ago.

⭐ The mission starts smoothly. You and Xavier arrive at the location of a forest with high protofield fluctuations. You are synced as ever, efficiently taking down wave after wave of wanderers.

⭐ But there's a tension radiating between the two of you. It distracts you momentarily, resulting in you almost getting struck by a wanderer swerving it's blade towards you.

⭐ Fortunately, Xavier steps in at the last instant, slips an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. With his other arm, he effortlessly swings his blade and deflects the wanderer's blows.

⭐ He is saying something now, his expression full of concern. But you can barely hear a thing due to the loud drumming of your heart. You are too lost in the sensation of his strong arm firmly holding you in place.

⭐ When you give no response, he tilts his head adorably in confusion and stares at you. And for the briefest of moments, his eyelids lower, his gaze seemingly lingering upon your lips before he licks his own and lets go of your waist, flexing his gloved fingers as he does so.

⭐ He clears his throat, tightens his grip around his sword and resumes his battle stance.

⭐ By the time you've cleared out the wanderers, you want nothing more than to go home. However, Xavier is already approaching you.

⭐ “You seem a little preoccupied. Is that creep bothering you again? Do you need me to beat him up?” He asks.

⭐ “What!?— No! I told you that you can't beat him up!” You wave your hands frantically.

⭐ “Then,” He pauses, his eyes narrowing. “it’s that kiss, isn't it?”

⭐ Your face instantly heats up at his direct mention of the kiss. You aren't good with confrontations, especially not when they involve the very man responsible for the sickness of your heart. So you bite your bottom lip and and try leaving again, hoping this is enough of a response.

⭐ But if there's one thing you've come to learn about Xavier, its that he can be very assertive when he wants to be. And right now he's unrelenting. He grabs you by the wrist, gently making you face him again. “I went a little too far, didn't I? I should've asked you before doing something like that. Let me make up for it.”

⭐ The sincerity in his eyes melts your heart. You're the one who had come to him with such an unusual request. You're the one who said he wasn't convincing enough, so he tried to make it feel more genuine. And yet here he is, not even questioning you for a second but already striving to make up for it.

⭐ You can't let him punish himself for it, especially since he didn't hurt you at all. Only left you wanting for more. “Xavier, you didn't go too far. And I don't want you to make up for it.”

⭐ His thumb runs over the back of your hand. “What do you want then?”

⭐ There's a conviction in his eyes– the same one he has before promising he'll win all the plushies for you at the claw machine, the same one he has when slaying wanderers. And you can't help but be honest with him. “I..I want you to kiss me like that..again..”

⭐ There! You've said it now. To hell with shame! And to hell with frustration! You're too tired to hide your feelings any longer.

⭐ Yet at the same time, the anticipation of his response is stressful. You try to pry your hand free of his hold but it only grows tighter now.

⭐ “You– You didn't mind it?” Xavier's eyes darken. So does his demeanor. He takes a step forward, and you take two back. “You’ve been wanting me..to do it again?”

⭐ You nod slightly, and he exhales a breath.

⭐ Xavier draws you closer, his eyes wordlessly asking permission this time. You nod again.

⭐ The next moment, his lips press softly against yours. And for the first time this week, you feel a little sated. It's not all you have ever wished for. Barely anything at all. But it gives you enough strength to live with your feelings for him.

⭐ The kiss deepens as he pushes you against the nearest tree branch, his lips parting your own. You gasp and turn your face away.

⭐ “Xavier, you don't need to do more.” You whisper breathily. “This is enough.”

⭐ He leans his face down, lips moving along your neck. “It’s hardly enough.”

⭐ Even with the pleasure clouding your thoughts, you remind yourself that you can't keep taking his willingness for granted. You can't let him go on. “Xavier, you don't need to pretend for my sake.”

⭐ “I’m not pretending. I want this too.” His response is immediate. “I’ve been wanting this for a very long time.”

⭐ His words hold weight, unlike any declaration made in the heat of the moment. So you give in. Let his hand guide your thigh around his waist as he kisses you again, under the evening quite of the forest.

RAFAYEL

🌊 “Keep up the act for some more time?” Rafayel asks, surprised.

🌊 It's the day after you'd attended that fancy gala with him. You're both sitting on the couch in his studio and you're the one who give this lame suggestion.

🌊 He rests his chin on the back of his palm and smiles mischievously, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t tell me, Miss Bodyguard..have you caught feelings for me?”

🌊 If you were drinking something, you would've probably sputtered it all over by now. But thankfully, there are no refreshments in your hands, and you will not embarass yourself by admitting how accurate he is in his guess (even if made only in jest).

🌊 You school your face into a stern expression as you look back at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. If we break up right now, after you've been parading me around in everyone's faces, then people will talk. Critics will latch onto this opportunity to write think pieces in hopes of sullying your name. I'm only being cautious as your bodyguard.”

🌊 Rafayel puts a hand over his heart and feigns a hurt expression. “And here I thought you've finally fallen for my irresistible charm.”

🌊 You scoff and roll your eyes. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

🌊 “I don't need to think so because its a fact. I am amazing.” He sits up straight. “Anyways I don't care much for critics. I don't care if people misunderstand or hate my art. But I know Thomas will be pulling his hair out if I get a bad name right now.”

🌊 “So,” He pauses for effect as you edge closer to him in anticipation. “I guess we'll keep running this charade for some more time.”

🌊 Before you can even realize, your lips are stretching up into a small smile. You know this is a foolish arrangement. One that is bound to end in nothing but pure agony for you. Yet you insist on dragging this along because you are desperate for a little more time with him. You cannot imagine going back to simply being Rafayel the painter's “bodyguard”.

🌊 You may have developed feelings for him a long time ago but its that kiss that made you realize how far gone you are for this man.

🌊 And you foolishly hope and believe that not all of it had been a mere act for him either. That there's a possibility of him liking you just a teensy bit. And this crazy belief has deluded you into entertaining fantasies you should not.

🌊 Now that you've had a taste of what it's like to have him as your lover, it's impossible for you to settle for anything less. You want him, and you wish for him to want you too.

🌊 The snap of a finger in front of your face draws you out of your juvenile daydreams. Rafayel is assessing your face. “Where are you? Come back to the real world, Miss Bodyguard. We're discussing some important things here.”

🌊 Your cheeks heat up and you apologize for getting distracted. “Yes, I'm listening. What is it?”

🌊 Rafayel shakes his head but begins explaining. “I’m saying that since we can't break up abruptly, then let's do it,” He pauses again, spreading his arms out and staring up at the high ceiling dramatically. “publicly.”

🌊 Your hear a crumbling sound and feel an ache in your heart. “What does that mean?”

🌊 He grins excitedly. “If we break up publicly, in the presence of a huge crowd with big names and paparazzis around, then surely it will leave little to no room for speculation and criticism.”

🌊 You feel fissures steadily forming on your heart. This isn't what you had expected when you had suggested him to continue on with this charade. A sinking feeling looms over you yet despite that you try your best to force a smile upon your face. “That..seems like an interesting idea.”

🌊 From that point onwards, any time to you meet Rafayel, the passionate kiss you had shared at the gala plays in the back of your mind. And you wonder if you'll ever get to kiss him again, even if only for the sake of this temporary farce.

🌊 Now every time Rafayel steps even an inch closer to you or lowers his head, you find yourself expecting– and hoping for– a kiss. A kiss that sadly never comes.

🌊 And the worst part is that you can't get mad at him. He merely asked you to play pretend. He never asked you to catch feelings. If anything, you should've been just as professional as he is. At least it would've saved you from experiencing the heaviness you feel within your chest.

🌊 But lets ignore all that because today you are at Rafayel’s place to discuss how the two of you will publicly carry out a fake break-up of your fake relationship during an upcoming exhibition.

🌊 Rafayel explains how you are supposed to yell at him during the exhibition, and make sure everyone around hears how difficult it is for you to date someone well-known. That it is becoming impossible for the two of you to make time for each other.

🌊 You scoff. “And then what? You'll say how I've always been nothing but a gold digger, chasing after you for your money and fame?”

🌊 Rafayel claps his hands. “Actually not bad. And then you can say how I am just as rotten as the rest of the celebrities.”

🌊 You can't help but laugh despite the ache in your heart. “This is so trope-y and predictable. No one will buy it.”

🌊 “Oh trust me they will. Everyone loves a little drama.” Rafayel tries convincing you. “You can add a few more insults and break my heart. And I can dedicate my next art piece to you, my cute but cruel ex.”

🌊 You laugh some more and he laughs with you.

🌊 Rafayel may act a little arrogant and childish at times but he is a good person by nature. Whether intentional or not, he always makes you laugh. The time spent in his company may not always be relaxing but it is certainly always entertaining.

🌊 And you realize how these moments will be gone forever after this so-called “break-up”, and how truly unprepared you are to endure it.

🌊 The eve of the exhibition finally arrives.

🌊 Rafayel keeps repeating the things you are supposed to say and do if you are to end this arrangement tonight. But you can only focus on the unease bubbling within your belly.

🌊 He quirks his chin, signaling for you to begin but you find yourself rooted in spot, unable to utter a single word. The unease in your belly grows and you take a deep breath before finally speaking.

🌊 “I’m..I’m getting tired of this.” You mumble softly. You aren't sure if anyone heard that but you continue. “You’re the one who asked me out yet now I feel as if you don't even care.”

🌊 Your voice is shaky now. You're taking in more breaths with every word you speak. Rafayel's calm expression falters as he watches the way you ball your palms into tight fists. “I..I don't think I can go on any longer!”

🌊 Your words resonate with your actual feelings. You really cannot go on like this much longer. You will miss the silly moments spent with him. You will be unable to genuinely smile with him after this. It will become impossible for you to even be his bodyguard. And you don't want that. You don't want any of it!

🌊 The unease in your belly spreads all over your skin like a wildfire. You feel tears streaming down your cheeks as you shake your head at him. “I can't do this.” You choke out before running off, the crowd of people around gasping in shock.

🌊 Rafayel follows right on your heels, grabbing you by the waist before you can trip on the stairs and fall.

🌊 “Let me go!” You yell but he's pulling you into a secluded room.

🌊 “Hey..calm down.” He tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ears and gently wipes your tears with his thumb.

🌊 But you can't do this. You can't tolerate him being so tender with you right before he mercilessly breaks your heart. You step away from him and his eyes widen, a hint of anguish now swimming in them.

🌊 “What's wrong, Y/N?” He asks, calling you by your actual name instead of the nickname he loves so much.

🌊 And you actually respond, words flooding out of your mouth like a crumbling damn. “Rafayel, I can't do this. I am drowning in my feelings for you. And I know it's not your responsibility to feel the same way just cause I do but I..” You sob, unable to say anymore.

🌊 He stares at you for a moment, an unknown emotion alight in his eyes. Then he breaks into a shrill laugh, the sound of it echoing loudly in the silent room. And he wraps his arms around you in an embrace, his shoulders shaking as he laughs some more.

🌊 “Look at you, falling for me just when I try to distance myself from you.” He strokes soothing circles on your back. “When I try to end all this to run away from my own feelings for you..”

🌊 Your own eyes widen now and you pull away to look at him, waiting for him to affirm what he just said. He chuckles, wiping your tear-stained face before leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

🌊 “Yeah yeah I'm madly in love with. And it seems you did, after all, fall for my irresistible charms.” He drawls out as if talking about something insignificant.

🌊 Then he leans closer, his breath tickling your lips. “If you wanted us to date for real, you should've simply asked. Instead you made me chase after you like some besotted prince in a fairy tale.”

🌊 You find yourself laughing at that and he lets out a breath.

🌊 “There’s the laugh.” He murmurs, sealing his lips with yours, his fingers carding through your hair as he tilts your head and deepens the kiss.

Hope it was upto your expectations or atleast as enjoyable as part 1 of this ♡ It's unedited so i apologise for any errors (i'm a little sleepy and will edit later). And thank you for all the love and support on all my LADS headcanons so far 🥹🫶

SEND ME REQUESTS FOR LOVE & DEEPSPACE HEADCANONS VIA ASKS.

» MASTERLIST «

[dstryvampres]

Smoke Signals

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: Dr Crane is tired of you talking back.

Warnings: smut, fingering, age gap(reader is early 20s, crane is mid 40s), power imbalance, brat taming(I think??), reader is a smoker, dub con, p in v, unprotected, praise, degradation, spanking, creampie

Word count: 2.2k

The trek to Dr Crane office on the fifth floor was quick and easy, seeing as there was no one else using the elevator because it was so late at night. When you push open the door to Dr Crane’s office it creaks, alerting him immediately to your presence.

“I thought I told you to quit smoking before you come to my office,” is what Dr Crane decides on greeting you with. His face is stern, pen in hand as he writes out a statement on a student’s quiz.

“Yeah, well I was fiending all day and they don’t let you have a smoke within 15 meters of the psychology testing centre. Hard to get a smoke break in,” You quip back, hanging your tote bag over the back of a chair before sliding between it and Dr Crane’s desk to sit.

“Well, if you won’t quit all together, you could at least have the common courtesy to not reek of it near me,” He scoffs, clicking his pen and setting it down on his desk.

You toy with the fabric of your sheer black tights as Dr Crane sets aside whatever he was working on before and brings out two sheets of paper. Two rubrics, one for him, which he settles in front of him, and one for you, which he flips towards you.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Dr Crane asks, standing up from his desk and heading towards the table near the window. He clicks on the kettle, staring at it for a couple seconds before he starts to hear it bubble up before he turns to you again.

“Just any tea is fine, except ginger, I want something herbal tonight,” you reply, rummaging through your tote bag looking for a pen to use for tonight.

“So herbal tea?” Jonathan asks, shaking his head at you in the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said,” you sit up straight once again when you find your pencil case, plopping it down on Dr Crane’s darkwood desk.

You hear a sigh from the professor as he turns around to look out the window at the rain, his fingers toying around with the packaging of a tea bag. No matter if Dr Crane happens to be your boss, you can’t deny that he’s insanely attractive. Young looking face with high cheekbones, blue eyes that stare holes into your being, dark brown hair that he somehow styles perfectly without trying that hard, all packaged in suits that do him far too many favours. Sure he has a slightly bitter attitude, but you’re no better. With all the times you snap back and push his buttons he’s far too patient with you, and seems to genuinely care about your well being. Whether that care is actually genuine or is just to avoid having to find another TA, you’re not one hundred percent sure.

A click comes from the kettle, and soon enough Dr Crane sets down a steaming mug in front of you before sliding into his own chair with a mug in his hand.

“Thank you,” you say, blowing on the steaming liquid in hopes to cool it down quicker.

“Don’t burn yourself.”

Dr Crane grabs his pen before directing both of your attention to the rubric and assignment guide. He drones on about the basics, word count, percentage to dock based off of just principle things, before delving into more important specifics to the assignment. For a supposed research essay, the need to include the students own fears into the mix was a weird choice to be a necessity. There’s no need to ask about it, the conditions for the assignment have already been set in stone, the due date is in about a week.

“Everything making sense?” Dr Crane asks, looking at you, eyebrows furrowed together.

You nod in response, reaching over to grab a highlighter from Dr Crane’s collection across the table. Maybe you should bring up the weird conditions of the assignment…

“Actually, just one thing confuses me about this assignment,” You start, looking for any signs of anger from Dr Crane, knowing just how often you seem to push his buttons before continuing, “why do the students need to disclose their own fears in this assignment, it’s supposed to be a research essay on different ways the brain copes with fear.”

Dr Crane clenches his jaw, looking away from you annoyed. Acting like you were questioning the fundamentals of grammar and not some strange one off point he decided to add to this assignment. He shakes his head, taking off his glasses and laying them down on the table.

“You’re not the one running the class, are you?” Dr Crane asks, voice showing just thin his patience has become in a matter of seconds.

“Well, obviously not, but I’m just-”

You’re cut off with the screeching of Dr Crane’s chair as he stands up, walking towards the door. Fuck, is he going to leave? Is he going to ask you to leave? Are you being fired out of one of the best looking jobs on your resume? When you hear the click of the lock on the door, you’re not sure if your fate is better or worse than any of the options thought of before. Nevertheless, your body tenses up and your head starts to fog up, whatever is going to happen you don’t think it will be too pleasant.

“You know what? I’m so sick of you always thinking you know better than me,” He slowly walks over to you as he speaks, shoes clicking on the linoleum floor of his office.

“I don’t think that,” you respond, voice strained. Now he’s standing over where you’re seated, forcing you to look upwards at him. You feel so small and powerless in this moment. Maybe, it’s only now and here, in this position, that you finally remember that this man holds your entire future as a psychologist in his hands.

“I want you to remember who has more leverage here, who can get you into the best jobs in the state,” it’s like he can read your mind.

You gulp and close your eyes. You’ve spent the last year and three months of your masters degree and time as a TA under Dr Crane pushing back against him, challenging the man. You’re sure that it’s here, in his locked office that he will give you a piece of his mind before dropping you completely. Leaving you and your master’s thesis to flounder in the last half of it, beg for anyone to aid you in the specific thesis everyone knew only Crane was suitable to supervise at this university. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Please, don’t drop me and my thesis. I won’t challenge you ever again, I’ll do anything you want, please,” you beg, opening your eyes to stare at Crane’s. Hoping the eye contact would connect with some deeper part of him, but his blue eyes stared back, cold and emotionless.

“Anything?” Crane asks, quirking an eyebrow at your begging.

“Yes, anything. I’ll get on my knees and beg you, I’ll mark every assignment myself-”

“Face the table and put your hands on top of it,” Crane demands.

“What?” Your mind short circuits at his request, not expecting something like that.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to challenge me ever again?” Dr Crane sighs, crossing his arms, waiting for you to obey.

You follow his request, placing both your hands on the table, looking down at the dark oak wood. It’s cold underneath your palms, but that doesn’t help with the sweat accumulating onto your palms. Dr Crane hums behind you, seemingly happy with your compliance to his request. He kicks your feet away from the desk, making your butt stick out more.

“Now, I want you to spread your legs for me,” Dr Crane puts a hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh. Your eyebrows furrow, taking a second too long for his liking and earning a slap to the ass, you quickly move to spread your legs.

“Good girl,” Dr Crane hums, massaging the spot where he hit you previously. You whine in response, feeling a heat start to grow in your cunt.

Dr Crane smacks your ass again, a little lighter than before, almost teasing. His other hand is placed on your ass, both hands move down to your thighs, then back up to your ass, this time sliding under your skirt and flipping it up. Your pink panties are visible through the sheer black tights causing Dr Crane to sigh out.

“You feel how hard I am, slut?” Dr Crane asks, you hear the smirk in his voice as he presses his hard-on into your ass. You moan, feeling the weight of it press into your wet cunt and soiled panties.

Quickly Dr Crane rips open the thin fabric of your tights, allowing for direct access to your panties and cunt. He feels your wet heat through your panties, quickly moving them to the side to expose your cunt. You moan as the cold air of his office hits your cunt.

“You’re so wet. Do you let all your professors fuck you? Or am I a sort of desprate case?” Dr Crane cooes, ghosting his fingers over your exposed cunt.

He runs his fingers up and down your cunt, collecting your wetness over them before pushing them inside of you. The intrusion is so unexpected it makes you gasp, pull away from it briefly. He fucks you with his fingers shallowly, at a bored pace. You push back onto his fingers, begging for more. Dr Crane removes his finger from your cunt, and you whine in response.

“Fuck, you’re a desperate whore huh?” Dr Crane laughs, giving your ass another harsh slap.

Behind you Dr Crane unzips his pants, freeing his cock. He lines it up with your hole and just stays there. No matter how much you try to push back and whine for him to put it in he isn’t moving.

“You’ve been such a bitch, I don’t think you deserve my cock. Why don’t you beg for it?” you can hear the cocky look on Dr Crane’s face just from his voice. Though it doesn’t seem to matter much as you open your mouth to beg.

“Please Dr Crane, I’ll be such a good girl. You can use me anytime and I’ll never be a bitch again, as long as I have your cock, please doctor please,” you plead, wiggling your hips.

“Good girl.”

Dr Crane pushes inside of you. His cock is average length, but stretches you out in a way no other man ever has. It makes your head spin as he spears you on his cock.

“Fuck, I didn’t expect a whore like you to be so tight,” Dr Crane pants out, putting both of his hands on your waist.

He pulls out of you slowly, before slamming back into your cunt. Setting a brutal pace as soon as he slams back into you a second time. Only faltering when he smacks your ass. You yelp out each time, before pushing back onto his cock. Dr Crane continually stretched you out and hit the most sensitive spots inside of you. Your legs start to shake half way through, the only thing stopping you from crumbling being Dr Crane’s cock and hands. He pushes you back on him each time, almost demanding you take him in further.

“You fuck me so good doctor,” you moan out, “Can I cum doctor?”

“Yeah, cum all over my cock dumb slut,” Dr Crane says, speeding up the pace.

One of his hands reaches down from your hips to your clit, rubbing fast and hard on it. A touch so hard and borderline painful on the sensitive bundle of nerves tips you over the edge in mere seconds. Your knees buckle. Stars flood your vision. Your boss fucking you through the whole thing.

You start to weep from overstimulation, tears welling in your eyes when you come back from your high. Dr Crane is still fucking you in the same brutal pace.

“Sluts like you don’t get breaks until I come too,” Dr Crane snarls out at you and your weeping, earning another sharp smack to your ass.

The tears spill out over your eyes as you cum again all over his cock. Your walls clenching and seizing around Dr Crane so hard his cock becomes painful as it pumps in and out of you.

He speeds up and his pace starts to become more aggressive, until Dr Crane stills inside of you. His cum rushes into your cunt, holding himself inside you after both of you have finally come down from your high. Once Dr Crane pulls out of you, you feel as his cum comes spilling out of your cunt.

“I’ll give you your share of the papers to mark next monday,” Dr Crane says, tucking his cock away and zipping up his pants. “I expect to not hear any confusion about the grading from you, I feel like I explained myself pretty well.

taglist: @paradiseprincesss @xanaxiii @luluartpop

[inchidentally]

this one was interesting and actually not esp silly or weird ! I mean it's still overthinking and stupid but lgfjlsagflf anyway sorry massive text blocks ahead…

so these are obv two boys who are basically ready to put this weekend behind them and they've kind of already checked out. and while everything Andrea said was fair and true, you can see Oscar's jaw working as Andrea clearly built up to discussing his racing difficulties. there's this little moment where Lando glances at Oscar out of the corner of his eye when Andrea says "I think Oscar experienced some of these difficulties" that's so subtle but is like wow, Andrea rarely comes down on Oscar like this! he sucks in a big breath and grits his teeth and nods curtly in kind of a okay okay that's enough ntm on my boy Osco he's already beating himself up !!

Andrea then gives them their dues for putting both cars in the points … but then !! Papa makes the choice to bring up how this race was Lando's to win and it didn't happen !!

and first Oscar's head whips up and a tendon in his neck literally jumps and you can see his chest swell up - he literally looks indignant on Lando's behalf! Lando looks a little hurt at first but then he grimaces and concedes. but like. the fact that Oscar - who a lot of us could argue Andrea has taken Oscar under his wing as a boy who arrived at a McLaren that was already Lando's home and family - was the one to have that intense reaction to Andrea's criticism is because it's about Lando! Oscar literally bites his lips bc okay let's ease off no need to belabor the point Dad!

and that's just how Andrea intended it !!

in Imola last year after the coming together in the pit lane, Andrea responded by immediately being firm parent and even a little bad cop! truth was that the incident wasn't even a straight up 'battle' between Lando and Oscar but Andrea saw an opportunity to not only extinguish any petty rivalry but also to bond his two drivers together against mean old Dad. he made it clear that there would be no 'both sides' when it came to the two cars and that because both of them would be equally punished/scolded, there would be no point in future for them to try for preferential treatment. he made himself the common enemy (so to speak bc they adore him) so that they wouldn't be each other's!

now, yes a mention does have to be made that Oscar is unusually mature and genuinely respects Lando's experience and position - and genuinely likes him as a person! he was never going to be the type of teammate to cause unnecessary friction. but he's also partnered with a guy basically the same age but at a much more advanced stage in his career and like. it's never not amazing how he resets himself and can be genuinely happy for Lando's successes while he himself is without a trophy and blends into the team.

but Andrea saw all of that and rather than just hope that Oscar's good will and kind nature holds against his natural competitiveness and the even more natural urgency all young F1 drivers have of trying to keep their seat, he's made sure to lift Oscar up when no one else does BUT ALSO to make it clear that Lando is not some untouchable golden boy and that with Lando's added experience comes added expectation! Andrea instills equity, even when it means he has to play bad guy for a moment!

he'd much rather the boys go away grumbling together and feeling bonded over wounded pride than have them see him as a buddy and nice guy the way they do with Zak. Zak gets to be the fun uncle. Andrea has to be the parent!

and when it's Oscar's turn to speak he reiterates Andrea's comments about the difficulties (but stands up tall enough that Lando has to look up to see him) and says he and his team will do the work to learn from what went wrong!

him giving props to Lando for showing just what the car can do and Lando ducking his head and making himself busy cleaning the plate of his trophy <3<3

"thanks Osco" in that snuffly stuffy little voice ;__;

bc it makes them both smile !! and even though Lando makes sure to be the brighter/lighter side he does the same as Oscar and reiterates what Andrea said - !! I love that the reverse psychology worked bc Lando went from looking downright moody and grumpy after parc ferme to saying that they did in fact do a great job today !! and he says it while looking right at Papa bc he wants Papa to agree!!

and Andrea does that stern slightly grudging but fair nod in reply. Lando's peppy little "I'm now very disappointed with a second place!" with Oscar smiling and you can feel the mood lift off him and Oscar!

Lando felt so confident in fact that he actually remembered where they're racing next week and didn't need Oscar's help :D

a lot can be said about how bringing two young drivers together who genuinely are so close in ability (Lando's regular commentary last season about Oscar was how much he loved and hated that Oscar pushed him so hard) could easily have turned out badly by now but that Lando and Oscar both consistently say they don't want a rivalry to supersede the overall goal which is to bring success to the team AND that they have a fully open door policy between their two garages.

but also !! that McLaren have someone like Andrea who will put the thought and effort into the kind of parental guidance and boundaries that two young drivers need!

[delulujuls]

the other one | jacaerys velaryon

hi, here comes the 2.7k of i don't know what, really. its for sure intense, so fasten up your saddle and enjoy the ride. i enjoyed making aegon such a cutiepie in my two last shots, but this man is designed to be a menace to humanity so yeah, i believe im gonna lose it in the next shots. prepare for chaos.

summary: heart want what it wants, and y/n's heart belong to young prince from dragonstone, not to the future cruel king of westeros.

warnings: targaryen brothers being mean to velaryon boys AGAIN, aegon is such a meanie oh god, fighting, arguing, threatening with a sword, last scene is smelling a bit like a rap3, so feel free to skip it. your comfort is the most important

pairing: sister!targaryen reader x jacaerys velaryon (ft. jealous, possesive and dark!aegon targaryen)

Two young princes stood at the gates of the castle, awaiting guests. For several minutes they kept glancing at the sky, looking out for dragons. However, only the sound of wind and waves crashing against the rocks could be heard, with no indication that any winged beasts would soon appear before their eyes.

“Do you think they’ll come at all?” Lucerys asked his older brother, glancing at him. The cold wind chilled him to the bone, and the youngest of the Velaryons longed to return inside and sit by the fireplace.

Jacaerys did not get a chance to answer because shortly after, a muffled roar reached their ears, and something flickered in the low-hanging storm clouds. The heavy sky was pierced by the massive body of Vhagar, who was the first to emerge from the clouds and flew towards the beach. Close behind were Vermithor and Sunfyre, who looked dainty in comparison to those two giant dragons. Aemond, Y/N, and Aegon had arrived at Dragonstone.

Soon after, all four appeared at the castle gates. Helaena was flying with her older sister on Vermithor, choosing not to sail by ship with their mother, father, and grandfather. The youngest of the siblings still couldn't bring herself to travel alone on the back of her Dreamfyre, but felt confident with Y/N, now walking hand-in-hand with her sister towards the castle.

Lucerys took a step back, seeing Aemond and Aegon confidently striding towards them. The youngest Velaryon swallowed hard.

“I hope they don’t sit close to us,” he whispered, prompting his brother to discreetly nudge his arm.

Jacaerys smiled at the sight of the siblings. “Welcome, it’s good to see you here,” he said.

Aemond, leading the way, wore his characteristic grimace, nothing like the smile the young prince offered him. The last thing he felt like doing was feigning politeness. In silence, he merely glanced at them, bypassing them and pushing the heavy gate doors.

“My favorite, strong nephews,” Aegon said sarcastically, with a mocking smile. Passing by, he nudged Lucerys in the shoulder, who was about to turn and say something when his aunt’s voice reached his ears. Y/N smiled joyfully at the sight of Rhaenyra’s sons.

“Luke, Jace,” she extended her arms, hugging them both at once. Hearing the girl's joyful voice, Aegon glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. He thought his sisters were too lenient with those bastards.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” Jacaerys smiled, embracing her and catching the smell of her lavender-scented hair. While he sincerely disliked Aemond and Aegon, he was very fond of their sisters. Helaena was shy and harmless, often speaking little and nodding more. Y/N, on the other hand, often reminded him of his mother, unafraid to speak up or defend her position. She was also wise and very pretty, and he was genuinely pleased to spend a few days in her presence.

“Are you coming, or are we going to freeze out here like a bunch of idiots?” Aegon asked sharply, seeing Y/N hold onto older Velaryon a bit too long. The young princess gave him an amused look, tousled Lucerys’ hair, and linked arms with Helaena. The four of them briskly walked towards the castle.

Rhaenyra was celebrating her thirty-second name day, so the entire family from King’s Landing had come to Dragonstone. Viserys wanted his daughter to celebrate her birthday in the capital, but she wished to spend the day her way. The ailing king, still battling illness, had no intention of arguing with his daughter, lacking the strength and health to do so. Even to the Targaryen seat, he chose to sail by ship rather than ride on the back of one of the dragons. After Balerion’s death, he had given up flying and now didn’t think about it at all.

During the evening feast, the dining hall filled with people. Despite it being Rhaenyra’s day, Viserys sat at the head of the table. To his left was his eldest daughter, beside her Daemon, Joffrey, Lucerys, Jacaerys, Rhaena, and Baela. On the king’s right sat his wife, next to her the Hand of the King, then Aemond, Aegon, Y/N, Helaena, and Rhaenys Targaryen, next to whom, at the other end of the table, sat Corlys Velaryon.

The feast went on in a calm and surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. Previous feasts often ended in arguments before they even really began. The main instigators of all disputes, Aemond and Aegon, sat quietly, not speaking much. Many might have thought someone stuffed hay into the dragons’ bellies to prevent them from breathing fire.

Aegon, however, increasingly clenched his hand around the wine goblet from time to time, hearing Y/N happily talking with Jacaerys across the table. His blood boiled hearing her so delighted with the conversation with him. He felt like slapping that fucking son of a bitch.

Helaena was also having a good time, shedding her shyness piece by piece with each sip of wine. She chatted lively with Rhaena and Baela, who were already slightly tipsy themselves. Rhaenys sent an amused look to her husband, who tightened his grip on the wine jug and pulled it closer. The sea wolf had to be vigilant to prevent his granddaughters and the young Targaryen from getting too drunk. Helaena, however, had more to celebrate than just her half-sister’s birthday.

Since Viserys and Alicent’s daughters reached reproductive age, the Hand of the King and the Queen Mother began looking for potential suitors for them. While there was no trouble finding suitors for Y/N, who, besides her wealth and possessions, had a strong character and good disposition, finding a husband for Helaena was problematic.

From birth, the princess showed signs of abnormal development. Though she grew as a girl should, her mind seemed not to keep up, still trapping her in a world of childish dreams. Helaena was quiet, read a lot, and spent all her time in the garden, not burdened with unnecessary duties.

The Hand decided that when the time came, that is, when Aegon was to take the throne from the ailing king, he would marry Helaena, and Y/N would marry Forrest Frey. The plans were made at a Small Council meeting, which neither Helaena nor Y/N attended. Probably neither would have known about the plans to marry them off if Y/N hadn’t accidentally overheard their conversation when one of the doors unguarded by sentries was ajar.

“I don’t agree!” she said firmly, pushing the heavy doors and entering.

“Y/N, you can’t be here-,” Alicent stood up, wanting to calm her daughter, but she sharply pointed her finger upwards. “And you can’t do this to Helaena! I don’t agree!”

Aegon, who was one of the people at the table, also didn’t support the Council’s idea. However, he was too drunk to make any objections. Only his sister’s intrusion somewhat sobered him up. If he had to choose, he could marry Y/N since she wanted to fight so hard for Helaena’s better fate. Frankly, he didn’t care either way.

The guards first wanted to remove the young princess, but she began presenting her arguments. The Council didn’t think an eighteen-year-old’s arguments could make any sense, but many underestimated Y/N’s negotiation skills. In the castle, by Aegon’s side, she could be more useful than in the Riverlands beside Forrest Frey.

The Council decided that Helaena would marry Frey when the time came, and Y/N would marry Aegon. The young princess didn’t want Helaena to spend her life in the castle, locked in chambers and bearing children. She wanted her to break free from King’s Landing and experience a life different from the one she had lived so far. Y/N knew that unlike her sister, she could handle an incestuous marriage and an unwanted husband, who Aegon was to become in the future. Helaena might have been driven to suicide.

But for now, these were just tomorrow's problems, or who knows, maybe even further. Helaena, in a sudden burst of joy, stood up and climbed onto a chair, much to Alicent’s horror.

“To my beloved sister Y/N,” she said, swaying. Rhaenys held the chair to prevent her from falling. “And to my half-sister Rhaenyra, who celebrates her birthday today. I love you!”

Alicent, Otto, Aemond, and Aegon looked at her indulgently, raising their goblets. All the other guests eagerly toasted, applauding the young princess’s words. Rhaenyra stood up from the table and hugged her sister; Y/N also rose to do the same.

“Helaena needs rest,” Alicent whispered, gripping her daughter’s shoulder before she stood up. “Escort her to bed.”

Y/N shook off her hand and got up, embracing her sisters. However, when she felt Helaena’s heavy body in her arms, she held her close around the waist.

As soon as the sisters left the dining hall, Jacaerys, sent by his mother, joined them. Young prince apologized to Y/N and with a single, confident motion, picked up Helaena, who laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek, admitting that she would let such a handsome man whisk her away without hesitation.

Jacaerys only let go of Helaena when he placed her on the bed in her bedroom.

"Will you stay with her until morning?" he asked as Y/N began removing the rings from her sister's fingers.

"Helaena usually sleeps like a mouse under a haystack, but after wine, she sleeps like a rock," Y/N replied, smiling slightly at the sight of her sister's flushed face. "Wait outside, I'll change her for bed and join you."

The young prince nodded obediently and left the chamber. He stood outside the door, straight as a string, feeling like a guard. Shortly after, the princess joined him, quietly closing the door behind her.

"She'll sleep like a baby until morning," she assured, laughing softly.

"It's nice to see her with a smile on her face," Jacerys admitted as they slowly began walking down the corridor. He quietly offered his arm to Y/N, which she gladly accepted.

"I've noticed she smiles much more when she's here. I feel like the capital is suffocating her."

Jacaerys lowered his gaze. He had recently learned about the marriage plans for the young sisters.

"I heard she'll leave King's Landing sooner or later," he said, glancing at her. He didn't know how delicate ground he was entering.

The young princess sighed and nodded. She spent the whole way telling Jacaerys about everything that had happened in the past weeks. In the company of the boy, Y/N didn't feel like his aunt, as their relationship would suggest, but like a friend. After all, they were only a year apart in age. They had always had a good relationship and, unlike her hostile brothers, Y/N really liked Jacaerys. She cherished every opportunity she could spend with him. This was one of those moments.

The pair didn't return to the feast; instead, they went to one of the terraces. They sat on one of the benches, and Y/N involuntarily rested her head on the boy's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hugging her close.

"You deserve more, Y/N," he said quietly. "Both you and Helaena deserve more."

"I know I'll manage, I'm strong," she said, watching the remnants of the day dance on the horizon. "But I'm so scared for Helaena. She deserves the whole world, not what's waiting for her in King's Landing."

The young princess wasn't sad; at this moment, she could even say she felt a lightness in her heart. Jacaerys' body warmed her pleasantly, and the cool, salty air chased away the heat caused by the wine from her cheeks.

"You're the bravest dragon I've ever known," he said with a smile, looking at her face. The girl smiled at his words. "I don't know stronger people than you, Helaena, Rhaenyra, and Rhaenys."

"Do you really think so?" she asked quietly, looking into his eyes. She didn't know if his cheeks were flushed from the wine or the cold wind. Nevertheless, his dark eyes looked at her so gently that the young princess never wanted to look into any other eyes again.

Jacaerys smiled and nodded. He cautiously lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He touched her cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.

"I would take better care of you than they would, you know?" he said after a moment, his whisper lost in the whistle of the wind. Y/N heard his words clearly, just as she clearly heard the snort of disdain that came from somewhere to the side.

"I don't know which of you is more pathetic," Aegon said, looking at them with drunken eyes. He could barely stand, but his fists were clenched. Aemond remained silent, standing in the entrance and blocking it with his body. Unlike his brother, he didn't look drunk.

"What is your problem?" Y/N asked angrily, standing up. Unintentionally, she shielded Jacaerys with her body, who also rose from the bench.

"That you act like a complete whore," he spat through his teeth, causing Jacaerys to step around the girl to stand in her defense. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back when Aemond drew a dagger and stepped forward, defending his brother.

"Watch your words," Jacaerys said angrily. He didn't care that he was addressing the future king. In his eyes, Aegon wasn't worth anything, and he certainly didn't deserve to be Y/N's husband.

"Or what, bastard?" Aemond asked calmly, looking at him intently.

"We haven't done anything wrong," the young princess said sharply, though her voice trembled. She knew that her brothers were unlikely to hurt her, but she wasn't capable of protecting Jacaerys from both of them. She had only her hands, feet, and teeth at her disposal. "Get out of the way."

"Oh, really?" Aegon smiled. His drunken eyes were shiny from alcohol and dark-circled, his skin ashen. Even despite the fire of hatred burning in him, he didn't have a bit of a blush on his face. "I see a fucking dog clinging to my future wife."

"You wish she were your wife," Jacaerys said without thinking much about the words that left his mouth. Aegon lunged at him with his fists, to which the young Velaryon responded in kind. Aemond sheathed his dagger and grabbed Jacaerys by the shoulders, holding him and exposing him to Aegon's blows. In the commotion, the young princess managed to draw her brother's dagger and without hesitation, grabbed Aegon by the hair, pulling him back. With tears on her cheeks, she pressed the sword to his neck.

The four of them froze in place.

Aemond still held Jacaerys tightly, blood was trickling from his lip. Aegon's heart was pounding, not from fear but from adrenaline and, at that moment, also from excitement. His sister's small hand was firmly gripping his hair, forcing him to tilt his head back. Blood flowed from his broken nose, running down to his grinning lips.

"She's a dragon, see?" Aegon said, addressing Jacaerys. "You couldn't handle her, fool."

Y/N pushed her brother to the ground, releasing the dagger from her hands as well. She grabbed Jacaerys' hand and pulled him from Aemond's grasp, who would have lied if he said his sister's behavior didn't leave him speechless. In shock, he wasn't even able to oppose her.

"I'm so sorry," she began tearfully, pulling him away as far as possible from that place. "I should have killed them when I had the sword in my hand."

Jacaerys pulled her by the hand, causing her to turn around suddenly and fall into his arms. Without a word, he kissed her, feeling her salty tears mix with the blood from his split lip. Y/N returned the kiss but looked at him in shock. Jacaerys smiled warmly at her.

"Don't apologize to me," he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "You are a dragon, so be a dragon."

The pair didn't return to the feast. Instead, Y/N went with the young prince to his chambers. Jacaerys initially protested when she said she would help dress his wounds. Eventually, he agreed to her proposal, lying on the bed in just his trousers. The girl carefully cleaned his cuts, placing a cold compress on his abdomen. She sat beside him, looking at him tenderly.

"I'm so sorry, Jace," she whispered, squeezing his hand. The boy, however, seemed to be in a good mood.

"If every fight with them means I get to spend time with you, I'm ready to fight them every day."

The young princess smiled and shook her head at his words. She felt her heart swell when she was with him.

Their eager lips exchanged a few more kisses before Y/N quietly left his chamber, returning to her own. Helaena was still sleeping soundly, snoring softly. She lay on her side on her half of the bed, not even stirring when her sister began preparing for sleep. Dressed in a nightgown, she let her hair down and carefully combed it. She put the brush away and blew out the nearby candles, lying down on the bed.

As soon as she covered herself with the quilt, she felt someone sit on her, pressing her into the mattress, and a cold hand covered her mouth. The girl wanted to scream but felt a blade against her neck. The attacker leaned over her, his hair tickling her face. The young princess smelled alcohol.

"Every time you raise your hand against me," Aegon whispered, tightening his grip on the dagger's hilt, "I'll have one of your fingers cut off, understood?"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. For the first time in her life, Aegon truly frightened her. She felt her heart leap into her throat.

"And that fucking Velaryon dog," he moved his hand from her mouth to her hair, gripping it tightly. "I never want to see him near you again."

"Aegon-" she whispered with difficulty, clutching his wrist to push him away. She felt herself running out of breath, and the cold blade pressed deeper into her skin.

"Is that clear?" he growled, pressing her harder into the pillows.

"Yes," she said tearfully.

A moment later, she felt her brother's alcohol-tainted lips forcefully and brutally kissing hers. Aegon stood up shortly after and left the sisters' chamber, closing the door behind him. In the darkness, the young princess found her sister's body and hugged her from behind, trying to suppress her tears. She was terrified.

How much she wished she could hide in Jacaerys's arms at that moment.

[pickingupmymercedes]

hiii! Again, congrats on your 500 followers. I was wondering if you could do a blurb where Lewis and his wife (y/n) are in labour and just see how Lewis comforts her? (if yk what I mean 😭😭) just some cute sappy moments between them when she’s in labour before their first kid is born, and maybe a moment after the delivery?

Thank you lovely ❤️❤️

I chose a prompt for you, hope you like it

"Is that a rethorical question? You genuinely want an answer?"

Lewis paced back and forth in the dimly lit hospital room, glancing anxiously at the clock on the wall. It felt like they had been there for days, although it had only been a few hours since Y/n's contractions had really started to pick up.

The warm water of the birthing pool swirled gently around her as she leaned back and forth, trying to find a comfortable position. "How are you feeling, love?" Lewis asked, his voice a mixture of concern and helplessness.

Y/n shot him a tired look, her hair up in a mess of a bun, few strands plastered to her forehead with sweat. " Tired and cranky. I just want this baby out of me."

Lewis winced slightly at how helpless he was to the whole scene he had been watching.

"Okay, focus on your breathing, babe," Lewis tried, his voice a touch shaky despite his calm demeanor. "Remember? Deep breaths, just like we practiced."

Y/n sighed, then grimaced as another contraction hit. She gripped the sides of the pool, breathing deeply through the pain, and through gritted teeth, managed a one-word reply. "Useless."

Lewis chuckled nervously reaching for her fingers, trying to pry them from the grasp she had around the plastic material. "Maybe not entirely useless. It seems to be keeping you at least semi-coherent."

"That's not funny, Lewis," she groaned, squeezing his hand so hard his fingers threatened to revolt.

He winced, but didn't complain “Is there anything I can do? Do you need more water or, um, a massage or something?"

Y/n sighed, then grimaced as another contraction hit. She gripped back the sides of the pool, breathing deeply through the pain. "I don't know, just... be here. Talk to me. Distract me from this never-ending torture."

Lewis scratched his head, racking his brain for anything that might help in the slightest. "Alright, well, did you know that I can solve a Rubik's Cube?"

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on her lips despite the pain. "Are you for real?"

Lewis laughed, the tension easing a bit. " Seriously. Maybe I’ll show you sometime."

"Sure," Y/n muttered, rolling her eyes but looking a bit more relaxed. "That’ll be a great bonding activity when your child is not trying to get out of my womb."

Lewis knelt by the side of the pool, reaching out to hold Y/n's hand. He stroked her hair gently with his other hand, his touch soothing. "You’re doing amazing love. I know it’s tough, but you’re so strong. And soon, we’ll have our baby in our arms. Just a little longer, okay?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes closing briefly as she tried to conserve her energy. "I know. I just... I didn’t think it would take this long.

A beat of silence. Then, hesitantly Lewis whispered near her "Is an epidural still out of our plans?"

Y/n's eyes narrowed. "Is that a rhetorical question, Lewis? You genuinely want an answer?"

Lewis’s brow furrowed in worry. "Are you sure, love? It might help with the pain."

"Naturally," she insisted, her voice a ragged whisper. "Remember, no drugs. We talked about this."

He sighed, defeated. Y/n was unbelievably strong, both physically and mentally. He admired that fire in her, but right now, he just wanted her comfortable. He dipped a washcloth and cleaned a line of sweat off of her face.

"Alright" Lewis said softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I’m right here with you, every step of the way."

As another contraction wracked her body, Y/n bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes.

"You're doing amazing, you know that?" he murmured. "Strongest woman I know."

"Except for maybe Serena Williams" Y/n mumbled back, a flicker of pride returning to her voice.

Lewis chuckled. "Maybe. But you’re giving her a run for her money here babe.”

The silence in the recovery room was a grateful contrast to the hectic atmosphere of the delivery room just a couple of hours later. Their family had come and left already and the air was now only punctuated by the rhythmic snuffles of their newborn daughter nestled in Lewis's arms. He traced a finger down her tiny cheek, marveling at the delicate perfection of her features. Y/n, was drained but couldn’t find in her to close her eyes, a radiant smile gracing her lips as she watched Lewis become a father.

"Look at those eyelashes" she whispered; her voice hoarse. "They're yours."

A lump formed in Lewis's throat. He glanced at Y/n, his heart overflowing with a love he never knew existed. "They wouldn't be here without you." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/n reached out, her fingers brushing against one of his hands that wrapped around most of her small back "She's perfect, isn't she?"

Lewis nodded, tears threatening to spill. "More than perfect. You’re both my everything now"

______________________________________________________________

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[kaiser1ns]

#. KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, suo hayato, kaji ren, togame jo, takiishi chika, endo yamato

fluff. since when did you dream of a first kiss with the boy you like. and the chance finally came, but not everything turned out as imagined.

up to 500-600 words per scenario, i tried my best, sorry i'm still trying to describe romantic scenes womp womp, like and subscribe!

UMEMIYA HAJIME

You are so in love with this man that you can't get enough. Literally, you can't get enough of the way he is so oblivious to the hints you drop every single day. He is laughing yet again at something, surrounded by Furin first years and Hiragi at Kotoha's cafe. The desire to smack him on the head and tell him he is so stupid grows faster than the vegetables in his garden. Only Kotoha seems to notice your gloomy mood — you haven't touched the food she prepared, and it makes her worry.

"I'm going to give up if he doesn't do something soon," you tell your best friend, your voice tinged with frustration.

She pats your hand reassuringly. "It'll be okay. Don't mind Hajime's antics. Boys take time to develop, you know."

You thank her and finish your food, but you still want to go home. Being in his presence feels draining right now. You quietly say goodbye to Kotoha and immediately leave, while she wonders what she can do to help you out.

You aren't far away when you hear running footsteps behind you and the voice you knew all too well. "Y/N, wait for me, please!" It's Umemiya, running worriedly towards you. You turn to face him as he pants from the exertion. "Kotoha said you wanted to talk about something with me. Is that why you left?"

Oh my, this girl. How dare she does this to you? You didn't want to tell him, you were supposed to be mad at him. "It seems that I have forgotten what I was going to say," you murmur, turning on your heel to walk away again. But he hugs you from behind, his grip strong and tight, your back against his chest.

"You wanted to have your first kiss, right?" There it goes, your best friend spilled everything to her brother. "I've noticed everything you did to indicate your wants and needs. I was just waiting for the right moment, when we aren't with people, like this ..."

He lets you go, turning you around and kissing you. His eyes are closed, but yours widen in surprise. The feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your back makes you relax. You're a blushing mess, a whirlwind of butterflies and emotions coursing through you. Hands find their way to his chest, feeling his heartbeat race as fast as yours.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness you've longed to see. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere. You smile, your heart swelling with the butterflies going there instead. "You better make it up for all the waiting."

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess I am a bit dense, huh?" You laugh, the sound light and genuine, laying your head on his chest and hearing his heartbeat once again as he hugged you "Just a bit."

As he walks you to your home, hand in hand, you can't help but think about Kotoha and how she played Cupid, knowing exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t.

SAKURA HARUKA

You’ve heard it all before, the endless litany of self-deprecation and doubt that spills from Sakurs’s lips like a broken record. It’s a familiar routine by now, his recounting of how he doesn’t deserve kindness or acceptance, how your sweetness to him feels misplaced. His voice wavers with each confession, half-hoping you’ll agree and half-fearing you’ll walk away.

“I don’t get why you’re so nice to me,” he says for the umpteenth time, eyes downcast. “I don’t deserve it.” Your eye twitches. You’ve had enough. The words repeat in your head, grating on your nerves. You care about him deeply, but his lack of self-worth is starting to drive you insane. He’s strong, capable, a fighter in every sense of the word—except when it comes to himself.

“Oh my god, Sakura, stop with this bullshit,” you snap, sharper than you intended. He blinks, taken aback. “Hah!?”

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s so frustrating. ‘I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve that.’” You mimic his tone, letting your irritation seep through. His eyes narrow, anger mixing with confusion. "Huh!?" He clenches his fists, the familiar motion of cracking his knuckles following. It’s a gesture meant to intimidate, but you’ve seen it too many times to be scared. “Shut up before I make you,” you threaten.

He meets your gaze gaze, unflinching. “Make me then. Let your fists do the talking.”

That’s it. The breaking point. You stand up abruptly, closing the distance between you. He braces himself, expecting a fight. You can see the conflict in his eyes, torn between his instinct to fight and his deep-seated fear of hurting you. Instead, you grab his face with both hands and pull him into a kiss. It’s sudden, forceful, and completely unexpected. His body tenses up, then melts against you, stunned into silence.

When you pull back, his face is a shade of red you didn’t think was possible to achieve. He’s a mess of incoherent sounds, his mind clearly struggling to process what just happened. “W-what… Huh!?”

“You shouldn’t talk so much crap,” you say calmly, sitting back down. “It’ll lead you to problems.”

He stands there, dazed and silent, a stark contrast to his usual self. You relish the quiet, the absence of his self-doubt hanging in the air. Finally, a moment of peace. Sakura haven't said a word all day, lost in his thoughts. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, hoping that your impulsive act has left an impression, that maybe he’ll start to see himself the way you see him.

SUO HAYATO

The boy himself, the living legend of making people accept his requests with his teasing smile, is sitting next to you. His beautiful dark brown eyes make you melt like chocolate left out in the hot sun. Suo Hayato, the enigma from the neighboring school, is here in your living room, surrounded by your scattered chemistry notes. You begged him for help with your homework, and in his usual style, he agreed with a condition. You, expecting another teacake request, readily agreed.

The two of you sit on the floor, papers spread out across the table. Hayato explains the properties of alkaline metals and their reactions. His hand occasionally brushes against yours, sending a jolt through your system each time. He notices your reactions, the subtle glances you steal, the way you tense and relax. He is enjoying himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“And that’s all. I’m sure you’ll ace the test, L/N-san,” he concludes with a smile.

A few days later, you find yourself beaming as you show him your test. Maximum points. You’re the only student with a perfect score, and Hayato knows it. His smile widens, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction.

“I knew you’d do it. But don’t you forget something?” he prompts.

Ah, yes, his reward. “No, I didn’t forget, Suo-kun.” You reach into your bag and pull out a box of homemade teacakes. “Here, just the way you like them.” He takes the box, smiling with one eye closed, the other hidden beneath his signature eyepatch. “Oh, thank you very much. So kind as always.” he pauses “But I wanted something sweeter.”

Confused, you stand there trying to figure out what he means. Wasn’t he on a diet? Perhaps you should brew him some tea. He chuckles, observing you and most possibly reading your thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want freshly brewed tea.” His voice is soft, but there's an edge to it. How does he always know what you’re thinking? Does he know you wanted to kiss him while you studied? His perceptiveness is both thrilling and intimidating.

“So what do you want?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat. “You.”

Before you can process his words, his lips are on yours, warm and insistent. Your bag slips from your shoulder, landing with a soft thud. The kiss is everything you imagined and more, a perfect blend of surprise and inevitability. You feel the chemistry, the undeniable connection between element Suo and element Y/N, strong and unbreakable.

You pull away, still in shock, as he steps back. His hands are behind his back, holding the box of teacakes, but his eyes are fixed on you. He turns to leave, but glances back over his shoulder.

“I’ll be waiting for more chemistry tests to help you out,” he says, a promise in his voice. And you know, without a doubt, that his request will always be met.

KAJI REN

You had always admired the way Kaji Ren seemed to be in his own world, headphones clamped over his ears and a strawberry lollipop lazily balanced between his lips. He was lost in thought, probably wondering about you, always worried—if you needed help, how your day went, if there was someone he needed to deal with for you. His obliviousness gave you the perfect opportunity. You appeared in front of him and, snatching the lollipop from his mouth, putting it in your own.

"What the—" His initial reaction was irritation, a typical Kaji Ren tantrum brewing, until he saw you standing there, and that devilish look in your eyes. You were still in your school uniform, like you always are when he waits to walk you home.

"Oh, strawberry one. My favorite." You teased, a smile tugging at your lips. He scoffed, too tired to engage in your banter, as started walking behind you, when you suddenly stopped. Before he could react, you snatched his headphones and dashed off.

You were fast, but Kaji was faster. In a heartbeat, he caught up, slamming you gently against the nearest wall, his arms caging you in. You looked up at him, a devilish grin on your face.

"Now, what, Ren?" you taunted, breathless.

For a moment, he just stared, as if trying to figure out his next move. Then, in a move that surprised both of you, he grabbed the lollipop from your mouth and tossed it on the ground. His lips crashed onto yours with a hunger and urgency that sent the butterflies right into your stomach. He kissed you like he’d been starving for it, tasting the sweet strawberry flavor that lingered on your lips.

You kissed back with equal hunger, your hands tangling in his hair. Time seemed to stand still as you both poured everything into that kiss. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, as you stared at the blonde boy.

"Do you want to try an apple flavor next time?" you asked, a teasing once again.

"Shut up," he muttered, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. He snatched his headphones back and started walking again, but you weren’t ready to let go just yet. You ran up to him and slipped your hand into his. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, but instead, he squeezed your hand tightly.

TOGAME JO

You never go into Shishitoren territory without Togame. He’s your personal bodyguard, a very fine one at that, and he insists on accompanying you every time. Texting him is a lost cause—he never responds. At least, that’s what he wants you to believe, even though your texts are the only ones he ever reads. So, you always call to tell him you are under the bridge, waiting for him.

Tonight, the two of you are wandering down a bustling street, searching for a pub to settle in. The crowd is big at this time of the night, and Togame keeps his hand firmly on your waist, ensuring you stay close. Despite him wanting to keep you close and safe, you are always slipping away, and it drives him crazy.

You meander through, your curiosity piqued by a very interesting shop window. Something inside catches your eye, and you pause to admire it. Meanwhile, he is frantic, scanning the crowd for any sign of you. When he finally spots you, relief floods his body, quickly replaced by an angry expression. The Shishitoren vice-capitain makes a note to buy the item for you tomorrow, but now is not the time. He strides over and grabs your hand, pulling you towards a quieter, more secluded area.

“What if something happened to you? Do you know how much I’d regret that?” His usual slow, measured speech is now rapid and laced with frustration.

You look down, guilt washing over you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He sighs heavily, his expression softening as he sees your sad face. Gently, he tilts your chin up, his fingers brushing away the few tears that have escaped. “Don’t cry now, pretty girl.”

Before you can respond, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. You hadn’t expected your first kiss to happen like this, in a quiet, dimly lit alley, but it’s with Togame Jo, and that’s all that matters.

His hands cradle your face, thumbs tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You close your eyes, relaxing in his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. It is soft, tender, and unhurried. There’s no rush, no urgency—just the two of you in this moment. His lips are warm, and he takes his time, savoring the feel of you, as butterflies made their way to your stomach. When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless, faces mere inches apart.

He presses his forehead against yours, a small smile playing making its way, reassuring you that everything was fine, “Just... don’t do that again, okay?”

You nod, still dazed from the kiss. He entwines his fingers with yours, leading you back to the crowded street, but this time, his grip is gentler, more safe. The bustling city seems a little less overwhelming with him by your side, and you can’t help but smile, stealing glances at him, your heart fluttering with every step. Togame catches your eye and squeezes your hand, his own smile growing wider.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

He showed up at your house, knocking on the window as you sighed, getting up from your bed. You, of course, let him in, seeing how he was again stained with blood that was not his. It was the same every time: he came to you so you could patch him up, fix him, give him a shower, change of clothes and a place to sleep in. You never ask questions, and he never offers explanations. Tonight is no different as you sit in his lap, bandaging his face and hands.

You're not a couple; you're not anything. It’s complicated. There are unspoken words between you, a delicate balance that neither of you dares to disrupt. As you sit on his lap and clean his face, you find yourself closer than before. His yellow eyes, intense and piercing, lock onto yours, heart races, each beat echoing in your ears. You’re getting closer, inch by inch. Hesitation grips you, your breath caught in your throat.

"Don't move." Just as you think of pulling away, his hand moves behind your head, gently but firmly pushing you forward. Your lips meet his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s surprising, the gentleness of it, especially coming from someone as fiery and unpredictable as Chika. The kiss is brief, a fleeting moment that feels that for once you were something. When it ends, you pull back slightly, searching his eyes for any hint of what this meant to him. But his expression is the same as every day. And then you are back to becoming nothing.

For you, it meant everything. It’s a confirmation of the connection you’ve always felt but never acknowledged. But what did it mean for him? You're not sure, and you don't dare to ask. Not now. Maybe not ever. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. You can think about this later. Right now, he still needs you. You focus on his injuries, cleaning and bandaging.

Chika watches you work, his eyes never leaving your face. You can feel the weight of his gaze, and it only makes you more aware of your own feelings. But you don’t let it distract you. You finish bandaging his hands and move to check for any other injuries, your fingers brushing against his skin, meanwhile, he gently caresses your thighs with his thumbs leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

When you’re done, you lean back, surveying your work. He looks a bit better now, though still battered and bruised. You meet his eyes again, and this time there’s something different there. Something softer, more vulnerable — a golden hue reflects the dim light, adding a warm, almost ethereal quality to the sun.

“There all done,” you say quietly, unable to trust your voice to say more. You stand up, as you don't want to leave his embrace but you have to clean up the supplies scattered around and prepare a bath. As you move around the room to get him new clothes you can feel his eyes on you, following your every move. You wonder if he’s thinking about the kiss, about what it meant. You wonder if he feels the same confusion, the same longing, the same love.

ENDO YAMATO

The wind lifting strands of his dark hair and whipping them around his face. He’s talking about something, his tattooed hands tracing patterns in the air. But you’re not listening. You’re caught up in the way his lips move, the curve of his smile, the glimmering in his eyes.

"...and Takiishi was there, you know? Doing that thing he always does," Endo continues, oblivious to your silent longing. Takiishi Chika. Again. You frown, a little annoyed now. Why does he always have to bring up Chika?

"Endo," you say, softly at first, hoping to catch his attention. He doesn’t notice.

"Takiishi’s just so unpredictable. I never know what he’s going to do next."

"Endo," you repeat, louder this time. Still, he’s lost in his own world, his words tumbling out like the wind itself, unstoppable and carefree.

"And then, Takiishi—"

"Endo!" You say it sharply, frustration bubbling up inside you. He finally pauses, blinking at you in surprise. You take a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, before he can say anything, you reach up and grab his collar, pulling him down to your height. His eyes widen in shock, but you don’t give him time to react. You press your lips to his, silencing him in the most effective way you know.

Feeling his lips against yours, the taste of his breath mingling with your own. It’s not perfect. It’s rushed and a little clumsy, your noses bump awkwardly, and you can feel him tense. But it’s real. It’s happening. And it’s better than any dream.

When you finally pull away, he’s staring at you, confusing and amusing gaze. His hands, still raised from his gesticulations, hover in the air, uncertain.

"Ah," he says, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I’m not good at judging people, am I?" You laugh, knowing how he chooses people and how his expectations are later contradicted, that right now is happening with you, "No," you agree, your voice soft. "You’re really not."

He rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Sorry. I guess I was talking too much."

"A little," you admit, your heart still racing. "But it’s okay."

He steps closer, his hand brushing against yours, indicating his motives. "Can I try again?" he asks, his voice quieter now, the playful edge gone. You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. "Please."

This time, when he kisses you, it’s slower, more deliberate. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin as you live your dream.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[heartysworld]

Mother's Day || Oscar Piastri x Reader

A/N: This is a request I got last night and the moment I saw it I knew I just HAD to write it ASAP so here it is. I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as I did! 🧡

W.C.: 2k

MASTERLIST

Oscar sat in his car, adjusting the camera mounted on the dashboard with a genuine smile.

"Good morning everyone, welcome back to the McLaren YouTube channel. It's Oscar here. So, I didn't really plan on filming this today, but according to the schedule, it's my turn to vlog and there's no way out of it. So because today is a really special day you'll be coming with me to run some errands. It's Y/N's first Mother's Day, and I want to make it memorable for her. So, I woke up super early and I'm on my way to get her some flowers and breakfast."

On the way to the places he had in mind to visit, Oscar talked about the other big part of his life. He discussed the last few races and the points he had scored with the invisible audience whom the video was intended for.

He parked the car and walked towards a quaint local flower shop, the bell above the door jingling as he entered. "Alright, so we're at Daisy's Flower Boutique. They have the best flowers in town, and I want to get something really special for Y/N."

Oscar browsed through the vibrant selection of flowers, his eyes lighting up as the woman who worked there showed him a beautiful bouquet of roses and another one of lilies. "These look perfect. I'm actually going to get both." He said. "One bouquet from me and one from our baby girl. I think my wife will love them." He added as he received an odd look from the worker. His reason for buying two bouquets actually made the woman smile, telling him how his wife and daughter are lucky to have such a husband and father.

Next, Oscar headed to a cozy bakery, ordering an assortment of pastries and a couple two lattes, all of your favorite stuff. The camera captured the delicious array of baked goods. "Y/N loves the croissants from this place, so I'm getting a bunch of her favorites. And of course, a latte to go. Funny story, this is where we had our first date six years ago. So we can say we've made it something like "our place". "

With the flowers and breakfast on the passenger seat, Oscar set off back home. "Alright, everything's set. Let's head back home and surprise my wife."

Quietly entering the house, Oscar made his way to the kitchen where Y/N was already awake, cradling their baby girl who let our a loud gurgle at the sight of her dad. "Good morning, loves," he said softly, setting the food and flowers on the counter.

Y/N looked up, a surprised smile spreading across her face. "Oscar! What's all this?"

"Happy first Mother's Day," Oscar beamed, handing her the bouquets. "This one is from me...and this one is from our little princess."

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears as she took the flowers, her smile radiant. "They're beautiful. Thank you so much," she said, leaning in to kiss Oscar and then placing a gentle kiss on their baby girl's head.

Oscar handed her a card with a delicate floral design. "There's more. Open this."

Y/N opened the card, reading the heartfelt note inside:

"To the most amazing woman and mother, Y/N, Happy first Mother's Day! Watching you with our daughter has been the greatest joy of my life. Your love, strength, and kindness inspire me every day. I’m so grateful to share this journey with you. Love always, Oscar and Tilly."

Tears streamed down Y/N's cheeks as she read the note. "Oscar, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."

Oscar wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead gently. "You deserve it all and more."

You couldn't believe how sweet Oscar had been. This was your first Mother’s Day, and he had gone above and beyond, waking up super early during a break week, to make it special. As you sat in the kitchen, holding you baby girl, you felt an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

Later that week, you found out Oscar's video had blown up online. The comments were filled with people adoring him and your family. “Oscar, you’ve set the bar so high for all the partners out there!” one comment read. “Y/N is so lucky to have you, and you can see the love you all share. Happy Mother’s Day, Y/N!” another person wrote.

You decided to film a little response video for your personal instagram, thanking everyone for their kind words. Sitting in the same spot Oscar had been earlier, you turned on the camera and smiled. “Hi everyone, it’s Y/N. I just wanted to say thank you for all the lovely messages. Oscar truly made this Mother’s Day unforgettable, and I’m so grateful for him and our beautiful daughter. Seeing how much you all appreciate his effort makes it even more special. Thank you again, and happy Mother’s Day to all the wonderful moms out there.”

Turning off the camera, you felt a wave of happiness. This day had been perfect, not just because of the flowers or the breakfast, but because of the love you shared as a family. Oscar's thoughtfulness had once again touched your heart, showing you how much he loves you and how lucky you are to have him.

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! 🧡

MASTERLIST

[transmascaraa]

may i please request genshin men (lyney, tighnari, cyno, and whoever else you'd like to add) with a jaded and distrustful reader. they're hesitant to entertain the idea of a relationship bc they don't believe it's genuine, the reader is scared they have ulterior motives. they've been hurt before and aren't about to let it happen again. because of this they act kind of standoffish to any advances they make. how would they win over the reader?

multiple characters headcannons!

distrust.

characters: lyney, tighnari, cyno, sethos x gn!reader

author's note: finally doing another req lmfao how are you guys😭 oh yeah and i want to try writing sethos cuz i haven't seen much including him at all or is it just me???? nvm it's worth a try

♡ Lyney

-i think he would just accept it at first

-like "they don't trust me? well shit— i can't do anything about it"

-but lynette didn't want her brother feeling so sad because he'd annoyingly complain to her until they both died

-and she decided to kinda reassure him by saying that even tho the chances of you trusting him are low, doesn't mean that they're gone entirely WHICH MEANS there's still hope

-this makes him feel at least a bit better and that's when he actually starts making an effort

-he practices EXTREME and DANGEROUS magic tricks just to show them to you, not on any magic show for anybody else to see.

-extreme as in basically shoving a huge sword down his mouth, or as in literally throwing arrows in the sky, so that when they fall, they perfectly line out his silhouette, not hurting him in the slightest. because to him, apparently:

-near death experience=trust

-up to you if you trust him but honestly if i was that distrustful reader it wouldn't help lmfao

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿ Tighnari

-i feel like he wouldn't be super interested in winning you over

-since like you literally don't trust him enough so what's the point

-but just MAYBE he'd try at least something

-he will try to win your trust by reassuring you when you need it, letting you know that you CAN trust him

-and that he's not a jerk or coward that would have ulterior motives

-so instead he doesn't rush you and lets you do what you wish

-even if you end up telling him to plainly 'fuck off' in the end, he'd be a little disappointed in himself but also he'd just accept it

-he won't force you into anything

-so in the end it'll all be up to you

-cuz he will do his best to show you that he won't hurt you in any way, and that he's loyal and trustworthy enough

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

๑ Cyno

-happy 1day late bday to him he's literally my 2nd/3rd fave

-i think when you explain to him that you fear getting into a relationship at all for whatever reasons, he says he understands but will definitely subtly try to win you over

-telling you random jokes every day hoping that it would maybe help in earning your trust

-subtly showing you he has no evil plan by being there for you when you need it

-he'll ask tighnari for advice, and the advice he will get is "how am i supposed to know? appear more trustworthy i guess? make better jokes?" to which cyno will listen but that's already what he's trying to do on his own

-he'll ask to spar with you, trying to earn your trust in yet another way

-he feels reborn when you even slightly smile at his jokes btw so yeah

-soon enough, you catch on that he's trying to make you trust him.

-and after that, in the end, everything's up to you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✯ Sethos

-is it just me but i love him sm i swear

-he will be persistent.

-understanding but persistent.

-not as subtle as cyno, but he will do it less often than cyno just because of the subtleness in the whole thing

-he'll definitely invite you on a walk with him throughout the desert like a few times a month

-loves it when you say 'yes'

-he will joke around with you, and make inside jokes with you, hoping that it means something to you

-maybe he'd ask you to spar together but would lose himself if you actually agreed(in a positive way ofc lmao)

-he's hoping so fucking much that he's presenting himself as loyal as possible to you

-if you don't want him in the end, that's completely fine with him

-but if you accept he'll look pretty much chill and happy with it but his brain and heart will be a mess lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

was sethos ooc???? idk

do i care?? yes (a lot, in fact)

either way i'm alright with how i wrote this

| @mariaace <3

[talktonytome]

Buck’s nervously bouncing his leg on the barstool, hands a little sweaty, as he waits for Hen and Karen to show up. They had invited him to a gay western club after he came out and he’s excited to finally be here. He’s craning his neck to see if he catches a glimpse of them, when a beast of a man walks up to him.

Wow, Buck knows he’s a big guy himself but this dude is even bigger than him. He’s got insanely broad shoulders, big arms, thick thighs and an ass that had to be sculpted by the gods-

Suddenly, the man is clearing his throat to get his attention. “Excuse me, but I think you took my chair,” he says matter-of-factly, like Buck should have known. And it’s maybe a little infuriating because who does this guy think he is?

“Oh I’m sorry, I must have missed your name on it,” Buck retorts, eyes narrowed at the stranger. The chair was open when he got there and really, it’s a little childish to be calling dibs.

Hot jerk holds his hands up placatingly, attempting to deescalate the situation. “Sorry, sorry”, he says genuinely enough. There’s something about his eyes that comforts Buck. “It’s just, I only ran out to take a phone-call and I was hoping my spot would still be free. It’s been a long week,” he sighs.

Buck can understand that. It’d been a long week of hectic calls for the 118 and he’s been looking forward to tonight. “Hey, uh, I get it. It’s been a week for me too,” he offers a rueful smile. “I’m meeting some friends so I’ll give you your chair back soon, don’t worry.” If he didn’t know any better, he could swear the man’s face falls a little.

As if by stroke of luck, the stool next to his opens up and hot guy immediately sits down. “It’s my fault really, I know this place is packed Friday nights. It’s worth it for the live bands, though,” he says. “I’m Tommy, by the way. Fighting the great chair war merits name privileges, right?” He winks.

Buck blushes, suddenly feeling a little breathless. “Oh definitely,” he manages not to stutter. “I’m Bu- um- Evan Buckley.” Wow he almost had it.

“Evan,” Tommy tries out and it sounds like the name was made to be uttered by him and him only. Buck gulps.

“Well, since we’re both here, how about I buy you a drink? I owe you that much for being rude earlier.”

Buck can’t help but smile. “Sure, why not?” He nods, “my friends aren’t here yet, anyway.”

“Great,” Tommy grins. “Craft beer okay? Or I can get you something else?”

“Beer’s fine, I’m not picky,” Buck shrugs.

“I am, at least when it comes to beer,” Tommy chuckles, signaling the bartender for two beers.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Buck teases. Why does this feel so easy?

“Hmm, I think there’s a lot about me that’ll surprise you,” Tommy smirks.

Buck may be inexperienced with the same sex, but he damn well knows how to flirt. He tilts his head a little, knows his eyes are twinkling. “Is that right?”

“Oh absolutely,” Tommy declares. He’s so confident in a way that radiates coolness. “For example, I’m a pretty great dancer.”

Buck thinks back to the times he’s tried to dance and winces. “I’m definitely not.”

“I could teach you,” Tommy says as Buck finishes his sentence.

“Really? Is that gonna be right after our beers?”

“I mean I don’t think we can drink and dance at the same time,” Tommy laughs, “at least not effectively.

“Yeah okay, teach me, Tommy.” Buck says dropping his voice, looking right into his eyes.

Tommy’s eyes grow wide and Buck immediately notices the blush on those gorgeous cheekbones. He preens a little because he did that.

“Ok,” Tommy swallows, holding out his hand. “Let’s do it.”

“What about our beers?”

“I’ll buy you another one.”

Buck laughs incredulously, but gives Tommy his hand and lets him lead them onto the dance floor. The band’s playing something sweet and slow, for lovers. Tommy uses the grip on his hand to pull them close together, until they’re chest to chest. He guides both of Buck’s arms around his neck and he circles Buck’s waist with those big hands, finally turning them into a gentle sway.

You got me out there, honey

We danced until I let go

Never been lost in a moment

But there's hours I can't recall

Buck looks down at his feet trying desperately not to mangle Tommy’s. He feels two fingers under his chin, as Tommy tilts his face up. “Eyes on me,” he says softly. “I got you.” Buck obeys and gets lost in Tommy’s eyes- gosh they’re so blue-as they sway and spin so smoothly he forgets about his feet altogether.

Maybe tonight

You'll let me run

Into your arms

And we'll conquer the heart

Tommy’s guiding them into another spin, when Buck can’t hold back from wanting to kiss him any longer. If Tommy’s eyes constantly flicking down to Buck’s lips are anything to go by, he’s on the same page. Buck tests the waters by leaning in, enough that Tommy’s breath ghosts across his lips.

You came in like a fire

Burned all I ever knew

I've been weighed and found wanting

And all that I want is you

Tommy gently grips his chin again, one big thumb slots right in the middle, and brings him in for the gentlest, most tender kiss Buck’s ever gotten. Tommy’s lips are warm and soft as they slide against his. It’s not long, by any means, but when they part, it leaves him breathless, all the same.

Tommy rests their foreheads together. “Was that okay?” He whispers, a little awestruck.

“More than,” Buck grins, playing with the hair on the nape of Tommy’s neck.

“Good,” Tommy replies, pressing a kiss to Buck’s bicep. “I do have a confession to make.”

Tommy tangles their hands and pulls Buck away from the dance floor. The song is over by now, so they make their way to the edge, where they can lean against a railing.

Bucks stomach drops. Did he get it wrong? Was Tommy not interested? Was he about to let him down gently?

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Tommy cuts into his spiraling. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“I’m a little embarrassed to say it now,” Tommy breathes, “but.. that wasn’t my chair.”

Buck finally lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Huh?”

“Erm, where you were sitting? It wasn’t actually my chair. I just… I saw the most beautiful man I’d ever seen all alone and I knew I had to talk to him,” Tommy rushes out. “Upon reflection, my approach could have been better,” he mutters.

Bucks laughs, but makes sure to squeeze Tommy’s hand in reassurance. “It was… not good,” he laughs again.

“Come on, hey!” Tommy exclaims in mock offense.

“But- you did it anyway. You came up to me all cocky and hot, not knowing the outcome, and it worked out so,” Buck shrugs.

“You think I’m hot?” Tommy smirks, playfully bumping his shoulder.

“Oh like you don’t know?”

“Did I mention you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen?” Tommy looks at him in a way that’s too fond for having just met.

“Maybe, but doesn’t hurt to hear again,” Buck grins. “Thanks for the dance, by the way,” he adds shyly. “It was pretty great.”

“I had the best partner,” Tommy says.

They look at each other for several beats.

“So, you wanna get out of here?” Tommy jerks his head toward the exit.

Buck doesn’t know if he’s ready for what that sentence entails, but he really likes Tommy.

Just like before, Tommy notices his apprehension; he’s so goddamn considerate like that, apparently. “Not like that,” he clarifies. “I’m having such a great time with you and I’m not ready for the night to end. I know this place with the best tacos,” he gives Buck his best puppy eyes.

Buck breathes a sigh of relief. He’s not ready to part ways either. “You had me at tacos! Lead the way.”

Tommy wraps an arm around his waist as they start walking toward the exit, when Buck remembers, “oh wait, my friends!”

“You sure they’re coming?” Tommy raises a doubtful eyebrow.

“I dunno, they said they would. Let me-“ Buck pulls out his phone and opens his messages. Sure enough there’s a couple from Hen.

Sorry buckaroo, Denny has a stomach bug and we’re pretty sure we all have it now :(

We’ll make it up to you, we swear!

Buck can’t feel too disappointed, when he got Tommy out of it. He texts back a quick ok feel better! and slides his phone back into his pocket, then reaches out to take Tommy’s hand again.

“Their kid has a bug and infected them so they are, in fact, not coming,” he explains.

“Kids and their germs,” Tommy laughs. “So you’re free to go?”

“Yes, I- I am free.”

- inspired by the chair (george strait) and conquer the heart (orville peck)

[slimepuparibaba]

More Sylus HCs, oh no... (and it's FLUFFY??? for SYLUS??? HUH???)

Listen he's an edge lord sure but even edgelords have their soft side (I should know I'm dating an edgelord IRL)

sylus is the kind of guy to style you in his clothing and laugh because it does not fit at all but he finds it cute how you're trying to look bad ass when he thinks you look like a goddamn dork

he questions how the fuck you're alive because seriously, how is someone this clumsy? the amount of times you accidentally injured yourself trying to one up him is insane, he has to basically TEACH you how to actually catch him off guard, and when you do, he's proud of you for it

he'll spoil you defo except you have to bribe him for it via kisses or hugs. not cuz he wants them (he does) but because he likes seeing your face scrunching up as you realize you have to do his bidding just to get what you want (he would've given it to you anyway but your reaction is just really cute)

no such thing as going easy with him. he knows you can take what he throws at you so kitty cards is hard mode, video games also hard mode, training, etc. going easy is not his style cuz he knows you're his equal and respects that.

but like if you're having a weak moment he will actually slow down and check on you in his own sylus way. he knows your limits, he won't go too far.

that's right. I said it. he's respectful. is he an asshole? yes but he is a gentleman (mostly) ((when he isn't being an asshole)) (((okay but like genuinely you are one of the few people he can be soft for)))

If he's had a long day being the head of Onichynus he knows he can come home to you to destress. maybe he's tired of being tough and scary, maybe he just wants to laugh with you and make dinner with you and stuff

guys I want my headcanons to be real frfr okay

he can kill people but bet he's doing it for you

he's watching you and making sure you're okay you are such a big part of his reason for doing what he does, so he holds you in the highest regard

even if you hate him, he's just glad you're at least giving him consideration and recognizing he exists. he'll hope one day you can understand where he's coming from (he won't admit it though cuz you choose what you choose) but until then he'll be fine with you being hostile

he'll play the part well while still making sure you're safe. he'll bring you back time and time and time again

I'm just saying he is a Villain but only because he has to be in order to protect you. No one else matters. Only you.

[kwyw]

I’m still not in the “oh, she’s definitely coming out” camp yet, only because we just don’t know for sure and I don’t want to put expectations on her like that.

HOWEVER, what she’s doing lately is so very clearly way over the top and in your face and completely and utterly at odds with “romance is not dead if you keep it just yours” “the greatest of luxuries is your secrets” and claiming just two years ago that she’s “fiercely protective” of her private life things she’s wrote or said. And that’s just 3 choices. There’s so many more. Including on her current cd. Including on her current duet.

Not one bit of this is sustainable at all and she runs the risk of this blowing up in her face and hard. Her fans are absolutely feral right now. Like at level that is downright terrifying to me. And she’s doubling and tripling down. Fans of other artists are rabid enough with their hate and chomping at the bit to cancel her over the most stupid thing possible.

The rate she’s going, I have to think she’s got a plan. To burn it all down? Whatever that means? I don’t know. But these rabid swifties will turn on her in a split second at this point, if she reveals she’s been lying and toying with them this whole time. I truly believe that. I genuinely don’t know how she comes out of this unscathed. Because this is overexposure to the max at this point, IMO.

I absolutely see the performance art of it all and think it’s hilarious. She truly is a comedian. I just pray she knows that and is braced for impact. I truly, truly hope so.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

“Perhaps that was another part of your planned… entrapment.”

Colin Bridgerton could live to be eight-and-ninety, and those words would forever be the nine he was most ashamed of. He had not known a moment’s peace since uttering them, his bones heavy with grief and regret as the words circled his memory, again, and again, and again.

Worse still had been Penelope’s response — soft and unbearably genuine; watery and honest. “I did not mean to entrap you, Colin. I love you.”

I love you.

He held onto that part of the memory fiercely, mind focused on her singular mercy, the use of present tense — love, not loved — fervently hoping it would drown out the rest. That it would make him forget the feel of her fingers, warm against his own, slipping the frigid metal of her betrothal ring back into his palm; forget the way he felt his heart split in two immediately, the crisp sound of its cracking masked only by the angry clack of his boots as he stormed after her, livid and ludicrously in love, because how very dare she?

How dare she think to leave him, as though that were even a possibility for two people whose souls were so deeply intertwined?

He said as much, though admittedly, not quite as well.

“Penelope,” he whispered the warning into her hair as he caught up to her at the bottom of the staircase. His fingers curled around her elbow, just firm enough to keep her in place. Gently, he spun her to face him, and implored seriously, “you cannot leave.”

Me, was what he meant. You cannot leave me.

Even the thought of it made the air leave his lungs, so he pushed it away, and chose instead to say, “the banns have been read.”

She scoffed in a way that was so easy, he felt another shard of his heart come loose. “As though we are the first pair to ever call off a wedding. Was not Miss Edwina already at the head of the altar? If anything, we are conscientiously early in our decision.”

‘Our decision’. Of all the insults. As if Colin would ever permit such foolish thinking as this, let alone contribute to it.

He narrowed his eyes at this sudden display of hardness he did not recognize in her. “We have been intimate,” he reminded her then — determined that she understand just exactly how inevitable they were.

He had uttered the very same excuse not five minutes prior, and yet this time, instead of her earlier sweet sorrow, he was met with a startling flash of anger, the blue of her eyes thunderous.

“No one need know that if you would only stop repeating it,” she hissed, quiet and angry. “Or are you to tell me you will stupidly aid in your own entrapment,” the word fell from her tongue like arsenic, heavy and poisoned, “by announcing it over and over until we are caught?”

It was infuriating how truly clever she was.

No matter, he was clever, too. Her soul’s perfect match.

“And if you are with child?” He snapped.

She rolled her eyes at him, derisive laughter in her tone. “My courses have come and gone, Mr. Bridgerton, you need not worry.” Somehow, her words left him stricken, a sharp pang of something akin to disappointment hitting him squarely in the chest. She, however, was unmoved, her expression as fiery as the auburn of her hair. “It seems even my body has graciously decided to relieve you of your most honorable duty.”

It was scathing and deserved, and yet all Colin could say in return was what he hoped was true, “You lie.”

“I do not,” she said simply, a near murderous smile playing at her lips now. “Or maybe I do,” she shrugged, unbothered. “It is not as if you can lift my skirts in an attempt to ascertain the truth.”

It was all he could do not to gape at her, his beautiful, sweet, gently-bred betrothed — for she was his betrothed still, make no mistake — speaking in such a manner to him.

“Penelope,” he chastised harshly.

“Miss Featherington,” she corrected, tone sharp as she tipped her chin up towards him, eyes stony.

It was the final straw. Colin had never been so angry, and so desperately in love. His fingers fell from her elbow to her wrist, and he yanked it towards him much less gently than he should have, before slipping the ring back onto her finger with the kind of finality that brooked no more argument. He watched as it found its rightful place again, before announcing, irrefutably, “Mrs. Bridgerton.”

[walkingzombiegirl]

I NEED heavy butch 4 butch tension with abby anderson x nonchalant fem reader. Pleaseeee

too long to be a drabble, too short to be a full fic - i am having a brain block

The silence wasn't steady, your deep breaths creating a symphony in the air that seemed to only make the decision harder for her. She tapped her cards against the table, biting her lip while you watched.

Something was playing on TV - what - she didn't know. She tuned it out while deciding whether or not playing her hand was a good idea. But no matter what she was, or was not going to do, it felt you already knew the answer. It made her shiver.

She was aware your eyes were on her, however, she didn't look up. Instead, Abby reached forward and placed one of her two cards down, practically hearing your shit-eating grin appear.

"I win." You said, looking up at your friend with a triumphant hum and no cards in your hands. You had already put them down before she made her move, she could've punched herself.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"You did better that time..." You shrugged, taking the cards in order to form the deck once again. "Better isn't good." Abby huffed, tossing the cards to your end of the table while you snickered in return. "You did good, Abbs, practice makes perfect. You'll be beating Manny in no time."

Your eyes flickered up at her, meeting her own for a moment. You gave her a smile, shuffling the deck as you did so.

"You're just not as good as me yet." You whispered, her blue eyes blinking in response, her head slowly moving to shake. "You're a dick." She said in the same tone, the girl then rolled her eyes and tried to not take notice of your gaze.

"I learned young, you're learning now. There's a difference." "Not when you look stupid." You shook your head, shifting, the movement making a noise in the cargo pants you wore. "You don't look stupid to me."

The silence rolled over again, the cards moving back and forth between your palms while you thought.

"Y'know... never mind." You paused, looking down while your fingers danced around the deck, moving the cards effortlessly while she side-eyed. "What?" Abby asked, but you didn't answer. "Nothing." "No, c'mon say it."

Her smile faltered, and she quickly became nervous that you noticed. However, you didn't seem to, staring at your rings with a patient look.

You startled her, eyes suddenly stared back.

"I was gonna say... you look really nice in that lamplight." "Oh fuck off." She tossed a beer cap at you, your eyes tracking it as it rolled away. "I'm serious, Abigail. Owen is an idiot." It was said so plainly she almost choked, ignoring the light pink dusting her cheeks that she hoped you didn't see.

"You think all men are idiots." She said with an obvious tone, a tight lipped smile on her face. "Yes because women don't deserve them." "And who does?" The room felt thick, almost suffocating you while you shrugged once more.

"Give it up and hand over the cards." She cut in. "No... I don't think I will." You shook your head, staring at her. "You're too... pretty. He makes me squirm." Abby rolled her eyes, reaching towards you to grab the cards. "Nothing makes you squirm, you're a-" "A what?"

You'd moved the cards from her reach, her face inches from yours. Her breath fanned your lips, head moving to tilt just the slightest.

"You know I'm right, Abby." She only stared, moving like prey caught in a trap to look at your hand, fingers wrapped around the deck of cards. Ace of hearts resting on top. "You're way out of his league."

"Was. He's with Mel now." She grabbed the deck, backing up a bit, but not retreating. "Fortunately." She didn't have to ask why.

"Play again?" You then asked, holding up a card that you'd slipped from the deck, her eyes moving down to look at it. "How-" "I'll let you win this time."

The card flipped. Ace of hearts.

"You're a dickhead." "Yeah... but you love it, be honest."

i genuinely despise this yet loved the request, i love you anon know that at least