#the way he looks so proud of himself as hes gesturing at this food. and highly amused

[sparklingpax]

Im so sorry but this specific image from the McDonald's promotionals is so funny to me i literally cant stop giggling at it

*char voice* "Look at me, sponsoring McDonald's and all their burgers! Is this an accomplishment? I've never even been to a McDonald's until today, actually."

which also brings me also to:

anyway this has been a shitpost or something good night

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“Fuck, fuck, shit.” Simon cursed as he ran to the kitchen. He’d lost track of time again, and in the process, burnt the chicken that was supposed to be your dinner for the night.

How did you always make cooking look so effortless? Simon could recall in the dozen times he’d watched you cook for him, how you’d dance around the kitchen with your beautiful head in the clouds.

He sighed deeply before throwing out the chicken, frustrated with himself that he couldn’t cook a single dish right today. He’d been in the kitchen all day trying various recipes, and ended up wasting nearly your entire fridge of food in his attempts.

Simon ran a hand through his hair, frowning as he now had nothing planned for tonight, and had a little over an hour until you’d come home. You’d had a long week, and he figured the least he could do for you was to make you dinner.

With seemingly no other options, Simon decided to go with his last resort- takeout. He’d remembered you said that you wanted to try the new diner down the road, so he quickly dialed the restaurant and ordered something he was sure you’d like, including your favorite bottle of wine.

~

With ten minutes to spare, Simon raced through the front door, and began to set up the kitchen table for your arrival. He set out your favorite candles, poured each of you a size-able amount of wine, and out the food from the takeout containers, setting it all neatly on the table.

Upon hearing the click of the front door, Simon quickly put the finishing touches on the table, before making his way over to you- his eyes softening as they landed on your tired frame. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You looked up at your boyfriend, your foul mood immediately forgotten upon looking at the shy smile lining his lips. “Hey, Si.”

Simon walked over to you, grabbing your coat from you and placed it on the back of the couch. He turned back to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pressing another kiss to your nose. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starved.” You groaned, grabbing Simons outstretched hand and following him into the kitchen.

You felt tears tricking the corners of your eyes as you took in the sight of the table Simon had prepped for you. You looked over at him, and found him wearing a proud expression. “Oh, Simon you didn’t have to-.”

“Don’t even finish that thought. Just sit, and eat, yeah?” He gestured to your chair, which he held out for you. You giggled slightly as you sat in your chair, and looked down at the food in front of you.

“This looks incredible, Si.” You said in awe, before placing the napkin in your lap.

“I’ll certainly say you make dinner look like a breeze. I uh..didn’t have the easiest time with what to do for tonight.” Simon chuckled, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

“Oh my god, this is amazing. You cooked this yourself?” You asked, your eyes practically rolling in the back as you took a bite of the food.

He was going to tell you, he honestly was, but with the way you were looking up at him in complete admiration had Simons heart melting, and before he knew what he was doing, he was nodding at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Yeah, ‘s nothin.”

“Nothing my behind. You’ll be Chef Riley from now on this house. This is incredible, all of it. Thank you.” You praised, practically beaming up at your boyfriend.

Simon felt his cheeks burn red at your praise as he continued to eat, occasionally stealing glances at you throughout dinner.

Conversation flowed naturally between the two of you as you finished eating, and Simon could see the weight of the day visibly leaving your shoulders as you began to relax into your chair.

Simon stood and bent down to place a lingering kiss to your lips, causing you to moan softly against him. You sighed deeply before pulling away from him. “I should help you clean this up.”

“Don’t worry about clean up, love, that’s my job come mornin’. You’re my priority right now.” He spoke, as he looped his arm underneath your thighs and began to carry you bridal style toward the bedroom. “Be a good pup and let me take care of you.”

~

You, of course, would never mention the takeout containers you found in the trash can the next morning - after all, “Chef Riley” did have a nice ring to it.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: Boyfriend Moments

G/N. Fluffy scenes. Yes, this bitch delulu. Sammy, Vin, Goo, Jake, Ryuhei, Gun. Masterlists

Samuel Seo

"Try this," you offer to Samuel your tea.

That is delicious, by the way. And the way he pulls a face at the milky concoction mildly offends you.

You continue to wave the cup in your boyfriend's face, straw close to being shoved up his nose, drink splashing perilously against the lid.

He gives in. Because your dedication for annoying shit like this knows no bounds.

Steadying your hand and leaning forward, he takes a gulp from your drink. It's actually not bad. Better than he thought but-

"Too sweet," Samuel says, straightening and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Suit yourself," you shrug, appeased that at least Sammy has given it a go and you take a sip yourself. Then, with a grin- "It's like we just kissed."

He arches an eyebrow at you pointing at the straw, can't help rolling his eyes even as he chuckles at your silliness.

"Here,"  Samuel leans down again and kisses you. Tasting the tea on your lips except this time it is much much nicer. Delicious even. "Now we've actually kissed."

.

.

Vin Jin

Vin is undeniably cringe, according to Mary. And also a simp, according to-

Everyone, actually.

But he reasons that everyone must be jealous because if they found someone like you, they would also be all over them too.

Much like Vin is.

He's a lot more PG-13 than you expected though, less handsy. Even with his reputation, cool and cocky and honestly a bit of an asshole, Vin loves simply holding your hand, your fingers intertwined with his. Walking down the street and everyone knowing you're together.

Maybe it's a bit childish to like this one simple gesture so much. But he doesn't care. Sometimes he likes to just look at your hand in his, comparing sizes, touching your palm against his, and feeling the softness of your skin.

It doesn't stop there though.

He gives you loud obnoxious smooches on the cheek, rests his chin on your head, forces you to share a seat, squished together with your legs draping over his.

Vin wants you close by all the time. And he used to be annoyed when Mary would call him embarrassing, tell him to get a room. 

Has tried to keep a little distance at first yet continues to be drawn to you like a magnet. In the end, he has stopped caring. Besides, he thinks having you by his side automatically makes him a lot cooler.

.

.

Goo Kim

Goo knows what comes out of his mouth is gold, it’s just a shame that other people don't.

Gun tells him to shut up frequently, Crystal's eyes glaze over as she hums politely, and he knows Kouji tunes him out.

He takes it as a challenge sometimes, to see how long he can keep talking before he makes them awkward and uncomfortable, wasting their time, hoping to drive them insane.

It hasn't happened yet, but he's proud to say he's been close.

"And then what happened?" you ask Goo, leaning forward eagerly to hear the end of his story.

His brows knit together, puzzled. "Huh?"

"You can't stop there. What happened next?!"

Goo blinks. This (or 10 minutes ago) was usually when everyone told him to shut up. "You actually wanna hear the rest of it?"

You give a look to say 'duh' and nod.

Huh. Goo feels himself tearing up, dramatically thumps his hand against his heart and tells you you're the best.

"I know. Now finish the story."

.

.

Jake Kim

Jerry can recite all your key facts. Where you were born, your date of birth, blood type, horoscope.

Jason sometimes corrects him on the MBTI though.

Brad knows your favourite foods and favourite drinks, Lineman your favourite clothes and brands.

Lua knows that you prefer colder weather, although there's nothing like a sunny day to brighten up your mood. Or hiding somewhere warm and cosy when the rain pitter patters outside.

Sinu can recite your's and Jake's anniversary off by heart. The gifts that you have bought him, and what he has bought for you. He also knows what Jake was considering buying for you but decided not to in the end, for one reason or another.

Fact of the matter is, Jake slips you into all his conversations with everyone. It's a bit of a talent, to be honest. Even if the conversation isn't remotely related to you, Jake still finds something to mention that involves you.

It was a headache, at first. Jake derailed discussions and Big Deal meetings with anecdotes and tidbits when you first got together. Over time it became barely noticeable, only off hand comments or throw away remarks here and there.

This worked out well for the crew, because no one had the heart to tell Jake to shut up. How could they when his face lights up, eyes soft and crinkling. and he smiles so sweetly talking about you.

.

.

Ryuhei Kuroda

"Hey," you murmur, kissing Ryuhei on the cheek as his eyes flutter open.

He's looking at you bleary eyed, smile spreading as he comes to. You both sport matching pillowcase wrinkles on your face, and Ryuhei's cowlick is even more outrageous than usual.

"That was good," he says, stretching his hands overhead, elongating his limbs and arching his foot.

"The best nap," you agree.

Intimacy used to mean sex to Ryuhei. All physical.

Now, well it still means that because it is Ryuhei after all. But it also means deep conversations into the night with you. Sharing opinions and thoughts and vulnerability. Having another half (a better half, if you asked him) to be with, share experiences with.

And one of his favourite experiences that he recently discovered, is napping with you.

Ryuhei had expected his favourite experiences to be all manners of lewd and explicit things. But nothing can beat the soft domesticity of him curled around your back, both your breaths starting to deepen as you drift to sleep in his arms and he follows closely behind.

.

.

Gun Park

You wouldn't say Gun is a feeder, but the fact that he cooks and feeds you so well came as a surprise.

"Nutrition is important," he would tell you, prepping in a frilly apron that you bought for him as a joke but wore anyway because why wouldn't he? It's from you.

You also don't understand what role nutrition plays when he prepares the food in cutest ways. Carrots in the shape of flowers, octopus cut sausages, onigiri with faces made from nori.

Tonight, you peer down at your katsu curry, with a bear shaped out of rice lounging in it.

You can't help the burst of laughter, thinking of your boyfriend - the fearful Gun Park, the Shiro Oni, in the kitchen cooking this for you.

"What?" Gun asks, seated across the table, a spoonful halfway to his mouth.

"It's too cute," You grin at the black eyed menace, the guy that was supposed to be all about fighting but has a terribly soft spot for you.

You glance down at the bear again, in an adorably relaxed position with steam rising around it reminiscent of an onsen. It seems almost a shame to eat it. "I can't believe you made this."

Gun gives you a matter of fact answer, "You like it more when it's cute." 

Oh.

The fact he goes to all this effort, just because you like it more, makes him the cutest of all.

[multific]

A Rare Flower in a Factory

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Summary: Everyone has their own hidden little secrets, it just happens to be that Heisenberg's secret is the rarest and most beautiful flower.

Everyone has their secrets. Even the four Lords.

But no one could have guessed Heisenberg's.

Down deep in the dark, the deepest and most hidden place in his entire factory, just about where the rust ended, there was a living space.

A small, yet comfortable little place that the Lord himself built with his two hands.

Heisenberg was proud, he provided a home.

And in that home lived his beautiful little flower, his bride.

Someone no one would expect to find in such a place.

Yet, there you were, hidden away from Miranda and the other Lords.

Heisenberg's beautiful flower.

You were the reason he wanted to fight to be free. You were the reason he wanted to leave this Godforsaken place and start a new life. 

But no matter what he did, he failed.

He always moved back to his chambers, feeling like a failure. But each time, when he saw you, he felt at ease. As if all his worries melted away.

And you loved him so much.

"Karl?" you called out as he got out of the bath. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes." came his reply and soon he joined you in the kitchen. His arms moved around you as his mouth moved to your neck.

"Not like that..." you giggled as he pulled you closer.

"I'm always hungry for you, Doll. But I do need some food before I have my dessert." you smiled at him as you both finally moved to the table so you could eat.

---

You woke up to the feeling of cold on your feet.

You were naked under the blanket, with an equally naked Karl attached to your back.

It got rather cold in the factory during winter.

But you woke up with the need of pee and your throat felt dry.

You wiggled out of Karl's hold.

You put a long shirt on, which reached to your knees before leaving the room and headed to the bathroom then the kitchen.

On your way to the kitchen, you noticed the door to your home open, you found it weird but decided to just close the door and get your glass and go back to bed.

You poured a glass of water for yourself when you thought you heard a noise.

The factory did make a lot of noise so you didn't think much of it.

However, the second time, you couldn't ignore the footstep you heard, you knew it wasn't Karl, you could hear him snoring.

And just as you rounded a corner, there it was.

One of Karl's many creations. 

It had human legs but it was mostly a machine with huge machetes for arms.

You wanted to run but the thing was faster, it slashed and as you put up your hand to protect yourself, it cut into your palm.

"KARL!" you managed to yell, hoping he would come and save you. 

And again, the monster got ready and this time it slashed your forearm. You made another sound of pain and the machine-human fell to its knees, you heard the metal in his body squeeze.

You looked to your right and noticed Karl.

He was looking at your bloody hand. He made a gesture with his hand and the monster flew backwards, right out the metal door.

He rushed you into the bathroom, taking out a first aid kit and he started to work on your arm.

"This is all my fault."

"It is not, Karl."

"I didn't check if the door was closed."

"It's not your fault." you insisted, but he kept on avoiding your eyes. "Karl." you called out but he didn't listen. He bandaged up your arm and took you back to your bed.

"I'll clean up." he said and you knew he needed his own space and time. So, you allowed him to have it.

By the time he arrived back, you were fast asleep.

---

The next morning, you woke up alone.

You looked for Karl, but he seemed to have gone missing.

You knew better than to roam the factory, so you stayed put, reading your romance books and cooking lunch and dinner.

You also didn't forget to take care of your wound, you cleaned and re-wrapped it.

Karl arrived back later than usual, you waited in the living room for him.

He came into the room, his eyes filled with pain.

"I'm so sorry."

"It is not your fault. The thing wandered where it shouldn't have."

"Exactly, so, I prepared a new place for you, it is still rough around the edges but..."

"Will I get a window?"

"Yes, and a balcony. I'm done hiding you down here, it is far too dangerous."

"But what if Miranda finds out?"

"I bet my ass, she already knows." Karl made his way over to where you were sitting on the couch and knelt down, holding your hand in his. "I always fared something would happen down here with you, you will be a lot safer upstairs." he said and you nodded, you leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips.

"Okay, when will I move?"

"Hopefully tomorrow. I have them working on the rooms for you, then you can add your touch to it." you smiled at him.

"Thank you, but you got to stop blaming yourself, Karl."

"How can I ever make it up to you?" his fingers gently ran along the edge of your badage.

"I have a couple ideas. You can start with your fingers, then your mouth and last-"

"You are naughty." he smirked.

"Just the way you like it." you put your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him up to kiss you.

Karl was definitely thankful for you and your forgiveness. He was so mad with himself all day, he killed every single one of his machines in revenge.

He shouldn't have, but the thought of losing you became overbearing. It was all too much for him.

And he will make sure that no one ever will get to you. Not Miranda and not the entire world, for you were his hidden flower in a garden of madness and pain.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

[touchyluffy]

part one

after your first kiss with luffy, everything becomes much more intense. luffy becomes addicted to you and he has no shame in showing it.

he never leaves your side and is always touching you in some way, whether that be his hand holding yours, his head in your lap as he takes a nap on the sunny, or his feet touching yours under the kitchen table. if you're working around the ship, suddenly it's captains orders that you come cuddle him immediately. whenever you dock on a new island, the captain grasps your hand and pulls you off to explore the lands together, and if you can’t keep up with his fast pace run, he tells you to jump on his back, and then he’s off running again laughing as you cling onto him for dear life.

he will compliment you bluntly and genuinely and whenever it comes to his mind. there are no long monologues of love from him, but there is always honesty. he will just call you beautiful in a way that's just a fact. because it is a fact, he knows you're beautiful just like he knows the sky is blue.

he's constantly asking you 'to do that thing with our mouths' and after the 10th time of getting weird looks from those around you, you have to tell him it's called 'kissing' and then that becomes his new favorite word. he's addicted to the warm tingling feeling of your lips touching his. literally you’re chained up with your other crewmates captured by the foe that luffy decided to fight, and he stretches his head towards you with his lips puckered. in the middle of dinner, while eating his second servings, he kisses you with crumb covered lips. whenever you come up with a solution, he jumps on you and peppers your face with kisses. he can't stop himself.

he's extremely protective over you - physically and mentally. if you two are ever separated by an enemy, you can expect him to raise hell, he quiet literally drives himself and whomever is around him crazy worrying about you (once the enemy pirates reunited you and luffy, albeit in handcuffs, just so he would stop asking about you). it's not that he doesn't believe in your strength, he just knows what it's like to lose someone he loves and he will not lose you. he won't stop until you're safe at his side again. he's also protective of your peace and happiness, so anything that makes you uncomfortable (like perverted jokes from your skeleton crewmate) you can expect him to have an issue and he will swiftly put an end to it. this happy go-lucky captain knows when to lay down the law when need be.

he's your number one supporter. every time your bounty goes up, he folds it up and keeps it in his pocket to show everyone - friend or foe. he's so proud of you. whenever you take out an enemy his eyes light up in stars and he cheers loudly. when you two fight together and you land a punch he'd get so excited that he'd forget about the fight entirely and just wrap his rubbery arm around your waist three times and pull you in for a kiss. whenever you say he will be king of the pirates, his heart swells with joy and pride because he knows you'll be right there by his side. or in his lap. either way.

he loves to see you smile and will do anything to keep you happy. when you're upset, he'll be a clown. if you get sick, he'll search far and wide for a medicine to cure you. when you say you miss him he packs a picnic bag and find a spot on the beach for you two to have a moment alone together, it's a much appreciated gesture even if he eats all the food, he makes it up to you by reaching for a few flowers when you aren't looking and presenting them to you with a big smile. this is when he realizes that you like when he gives you gifts so expect to have a shelf full of things he brought for you - flowers, pretty stones, or other little trinkets from islands.

he's not concerned with labels, he just knows he wants you and only you and he wants you to want only him too. and you do. luffy doesn't keep secrets from you, you know exactly how he feels about you and that he's loyal to you to the end. not even the most beautiful warlord could catch his eye because you're all he sees. there isn't a "what are we" conversation (at least not while you're on your adventures together) because the label doesn't matter, you two just know.

he no longer likes to sleep alone at night, saying he can’t handle not touching you for hours. you don't put up much of a fight when he comes to your bedroom because cuddling with your captain has become your addiction too. plus there’s nothing sexual in his request he just loves to be by your side. you love to fall asleep with him and he loves to wake up with you, it’s a perfect match he says with a grin that makes your heart melt.

so yes, he's addicted to you and truthfully he sees nothing wrong with it.

[luveline]

I don’t really have a request I just love anything you write💗 maybe something with girly!reader?

thanks lovely💗

Spencer wrings his hands behind his back, shifting from one foot to the other unhappily. He hasn't felt this nervous since he was young —his PhDs have acted as a shield for years now. Even if he doesn't know what to do, he physically cannot be stupid. 

He feels pretty stupid. Less when you look up, smile blinding and sticky with gloss. He's thought about how it would feel to kiss you before and he tries desperately to push the thought away now, his hands shaking where they're hidden. 

"Hey, Spencer Reid," you say, lightly teasing as you wave him toward you. "How are you?" 

"I'm good." 

"Yeah?" You gesture at the empty seat in front of you. "Are you having lunch?" 

The bureau cafeteria is less of a cafeteria in the kitchen sense and more of a staff room, though hot food is served at the very back. There are couches toward the patio of an outdoor area to the left. You sit at one of the tables near the doors. The air is cold around his ankles as he sits with you. 

"No, I– I came down for coffee, but the jug is empty." It's a bad lie. Luckily you have no idea that there's a kitchen in the BAU offices. "You're not?" 

You turn your laptop screen to him. "I ate my lunch at my desk. I'm just catching up with my show." Your laptop has stickers around the screen, silver shiny stars and tiny pink hearts that look like they're made of jelly. There's a closed bottle of nail polish resting near the keyboard. "And I'm gonna touch up my nails, too. They're always chipping." 

"They look perfect to me," Spencer says. 

You beam at him, beatific, so, so pretty, he could die. He might. "Thanks, honey. You'd look cute with painted nails, have you ever thought about it?" 

Spencer honestly forgets about his nails. He should take better care of them. He thinks about hiding them under the desk. "I don't think I could do it." 

"No one's good at it, at first. I'd paint them for you, if you wanted. I have a couple of things in my bag." 

Spencer's relieved to present freshly trimmed nails to you for painting. Your polish is a light blue colour, milky, and he assumes it'll be the one you use on him, but you decide to ruin his life, taking his hand into one of yours. You hold his fingers in a way that presents the nail as you brush cuticle oil around the edges of his nails with a small pen brush. You chatter as you do in your way, all sweet and gentle in mirror of your touch. 

He's proud of himself for keeping his cool. To have you touching him for so long, so kindly, to have your attention, it has him squirming with a mixture of pleasure and horror. He wants to be seen by you but he doesn't know if he likes what you're looking at. 

"You have really lovely hands," you say, using the tip of one of your nails to scrape stray wet polish off of his skin, "do you play piano?" 

"You can tell?" he asks. 

"Pianist's fingers," you say. "That's a thing, isn't it?" 

"I haven't played much since I was younger. I got distracted by other stuff." 

"Maths," you surmise. "And criminology?" 

Everything. He pushed away a want for human connection with books and education until it got too much. Even the wisest of honeybees will brave heavy rain for a beautiful flower, and that's sort of how he feels about you. He knows it's stupid, knows it's doomed, but he couldn't not try to speak to you. You're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, all your lip colours and shimmery eyeshadows, the chirpy way you talk, the earnestness of your please and thank yous. 

Your hands. The silver ring on your index finger dotted with tiny pink stones. Your bracelets. The smell of your perfume and your soft sweaters. 

"Done," you announce, an uncharacteristic hesitance to your tone. "Are they okay?" 

You've done a perfect job. "They're so neat. Thank you. I– I love it." 

Your eyes linger on his hands. "I love when guys wear nail polish. You're even handsomer now, it's crazy. I didn't know it was possible." 

Spencer should have more style for sure, but he asks you to dinner right then and there. 

You smile until the lashes kiss in the corners of your eyes and say yes. This new place opened just around the corner from your apartment, and you've been trying to drum up the courage to ask him all week. When Spencer hears that he almost passes out. 

[ham1lton]

WELCOME TO MIAMI

pairings: (platonic) oscar piastri x reader.

summary: after the miami grand prix, you and some of your fellow drivers go out for karaoke and drinks for ‘bonding’ according to a certain lando norris.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and strip clubs. also you pretend to be oscar’s wife and there is mentions of alleged infidelity but it’s obviously fake.

author’s note: this is slightly long but i promise you it’s worth the read. this is my apology for being inactive due to uni so let me know if you enjoyed! also i made the meme at the end and i’m proud of myself so cheer me on :D

— part of the maneater series ꕤ.

“i’m just not in the mood lando.” you throw yourself onto your very comfortable hotel bed. the sheets were soft and pillowy, are these thousand thread sheets? you don’t know what they were but they sound fancy. you flip yourself onto your back. “karaoke sounds awful right now. i need to be alone to drown my sorrows.”

“don’t be so dramatic y/n.” you can practically hear george’s eyeroll through the phone. he’s snatched lando’s phone for himself now. “this’ll be good for you.”

“i lost embarrassingly to max, it was the worst race of my entire career! i don’t deserve to celebrate or have fun.”

“you got p4.” george’s voice is deadpan. “get out of your hotel room, stop wallowing and i’ll get logan to pick you up.”

“why me?” logan asks in the background. “get an uber maneater!”

“she won’t come if no one forces her!” he’s right, you think bitterly. you would have ignored the uber even if the driver came up to your hotel room door and knocked five times. even if he opened the door and threw a bucket of cold water on your head and then threatened oscar’s life.

you knew why logan had to be the one to pick you up. it couldn’t be george. he’s annoyed you recently. he beat you to getting the podium today. it couldn’t be lando because he’s supporting george’s antics of dragging you out. it couldn’t be alex because he didn’t text his girlfriend to ask her about where she got her cute t-shirt that she wore on his recent instagram dump. you really liked that t-shirt. “logan is on his way. we’re giving you thirty minutes and if you’re not outside, i’m calling sebastian.”

“NO!”

“YES!” before you can try and rebuttal his statement, he’s hung up on you. well, there is no way you’re going out so george russell and his clique can shove that up their asses. you open netflix, and get yourself ready for a quiet night in.

one hour later, you found yourself at the karaoke bar that the guys had rented out for the night. logan running up to you, swinging the car’s rental keys around his fingers.

“i want you to know,” you breathed out, giving him the side-eye. “i hate this. i truly do.”

“i know.” logan nodded.

“i hate you.”

“know that too.” logan nodded again. “which isn’t fair really. this isn’t my fault.”

“fine. i hate you and all of them.” you gestured at the karaoke bar where lando had already gotten a few shots in his system and was belting out a britney song. “god. this is a bastardisation of a classic.”

“you know lando.” logan shrugged, opening the door for you. “after you.”

“since when were you a gentleman?”

“since i was about 76% sure that if you didn’t go before me, you’d order an uber and go straight back to the hotel.”

“i was thinking that.”

george is already slightly drunk when he spots you, opening his arms wide at your entrance. alex is sipping on a bottle of imported beer. very pretentious.

“maneater!” george grins. “the party don’t start till she walks in!”

oscar looks like he’s already regretting this. oscar and you had been best friends ever since you realised you both had a low tolerance for bullshit. you roll your eyes at george who pretends to pout but uses it as an excuse to order more shots.

“did they drag you out too?” oscar nods, like every movement pains him. “you want something to drink?”

“no. i’m hungry.”

“i think the only place open right now besides here is a strip club.”

“they have food?”

“let’s google.” after a few searches on your phone you find out the strip club has a menu. “apparently they serve chicken wings and fries.”

“let’s go.”

“wait!” you grab oscar’s arm. “you can’t go to a strip club! think about the optics or something. the media will spin it like ‘crazy f1 sex-addicted rookie’. is that what you want your legacy to be?”

“i won’t have a legacy if i starve to death.” oscar rolls his eyes. then he turns to logan. “throw me your rental keys logan, maneater and i are going to the drive-thru.”

“no.” george says sternly. as sternly as one can be while slightly drunk and a shirt that loses a button every ten minutes. how was it looser than it was two seconds ago? “you can’t leave. if you leave, you won’t come back.”

“okay?” oscar raised an eyebrow. “we’re grown george. you can’t keep us here.”

“one song and you can go.”

“that’s ridiculous.”

“one song. that’s all i’m asking.” george raises his hands. “then you can leave. unless, you’re too chicken.”

“i’m very much chicken. bye.” oscar gets up to leave before you stop him.

“c’mon. one song isn’t a bad compromise and we’re already here.” you shrug. “might as well.”

“you can do it. i’ll watch.” you stick your tongue out at oscar’s reluctance.

“lando, will you do it with me?”

“sure as long as i’m choosing the song!” lando grins as oscar gives you both the side eye. you weren’t much of an adrenaline junkie off the track and in private, you were very different to the maneater persona you would show in public. lando chooses nelly furtado’s ‘promiscuous’ but he sings her parts and you sing timbaland’s. you kill it, if you do say so yourself.

as soon as you’re done, oscar holds up the keys to the rental that logan had brought you in and you follow him out on your search for dinner. as you and oscar make your way to the car, you realise that the only place open for food at this hour is, unfortunately, that strip club down the street.

"you're kidding, right?" oscar gives you a disbelieving look.

you shrug. "hey, they serve food and you’re hungry. desperate times call for desperate measures."

with a reluctant sigh, oscar unlocks the car and you both climb in. you arrive at the strip club, the neon lights flashing in the night. as you enter, you can't help but feel a little out of place amidst the scantily clad dancers and dimly lit atmosphere.

“we're not staying for the show," you say firmly to oscar as you approach the bar.

"i wasn’t trying to," oscar looks around warily.

the smell of greasy food wafts over from the corner where a small kitchen is tucked away.

"we're really doing this," you mutter to oscar as you make your way to the bar.

"yep," he replies, already scanning the menu for chicken wings.

before you can order, a vivacious stripper saunters over, batting her eyelashes at oscar. "hey there, handsome. looking for some company?"

oscar looks taken aback for a moment before he quickly recovers. "uh, actually, we’re just here for the food. we heard you do… food?"

the stripper arches an eyebrow skeptically. "sure you are hun. what's your story, then?"

you jump in, trying to come up with a believable excuse. "we’re... celebrating our anniversary! yeah, that’s it. we wanted to do something wild, and crazy and spontaneous."

oscar nods, playing along. "exactly. seven years together, can you believe it?"

“you look so young.”

“she keeps me young.” oscar winks and then immediately regrets it. he turns slightly pink.

the stripper eyes you both suspiciously. "hmm, anniversary, huh? and you're at a strip club?"

you nod enthusiastically. "yep! we’re... adventurous like that."

the stripper shakes her head, clearly not buying it. "uh-huh."

you turn to oscar, a mischievous glint in your eye before turning and pouting at the stripper. "he cheated on me, you know."

oscar’s eyes widen in confusion. "wait, what?"

you nod solemnly. "yeah, with my yoga instructor. can you believe it? i guess that’s what happens when you let another girl bend your man over.”

the stripper scoffs, shaking her head. "honey, now why would you take a cheater to a strip club? that's like taking a carnivore to the butchers.”

oscar jumps in, eager to exonerate his fake persona. "actually, she cheated on me too!"

the stripper raises an eyebrow. "oh, really?"

"yeah, with my dentist," oscar deadpans. “imagine how i felt… lying on the chair getting my tooth drilled into while my wife was at home getting a different hole drilled.”

“well, you cheated with the milkman!”

“he gave me something you never could.” oscar sniffs.

“milk?”

“no. love.”

“i’ll get that order started for you.” she gives you both the side-eye. “i’ll leave you two lovebirds with your marriage issues. you need anything else give one of us a shout.”

you and oscar turn to each other and laugh.

“DENTIST?” you giggle. “couldn’t you have picked a sexier profession for me to cheat on you with?”

oscar chuckles, shaking his head. "hey, a cheating dentist is funny."

“fair point. but a milkman? really?"

"i had to think fast!" oscar defends himself. "i didn’t get time to prepare."

"true," you agree, wiping away tears of laughter. "i just hope our story doesn't end up in the tabloids."

oscar shrugs. "eh, if it does, at least it'll be entertaining."

you both continue to joke and laugh as you wait for your food.

"who knew a trip to a strip club could be so much fun?" you smile as you eat. the food was good at least.

oscar grins back. "only with you, y/n. only with you."

afterwards, you go back to meet with logan, lando, alex and george at the karaoke spot. george is singing a dramatic duet with alex to the tune of lady gaga and beyoncé’s ‘telephone’. lando is grinning while filming and logan is just staring, like he’s watching a car crash. too grotesque to look at but too insane to look away.

george spots you and points dramatically, motioning for you to join them. you exchange a look with oscar, both of you knowing that you can't resist the call of the karaoke stage.

as you approach the group, you can't help but notice the absence of one key ingredient: a one direction song.

"hey guys," you say, catching their attention. "this is fun and all, but i think it's time we mix things up a bit."

george raises an eyebrow. "oh yeah? and what did you have in mind?"

"a one direction song," you declare with a grin. “in front of everyone.”

the boys exchange skeptical glances, clearly not convinced.

"we can't do that," logan protests. "it's too... cheesy."

"come on, logan," you coax, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "you owe me for dragging me here."

“that wasn’t even my decision!” logan sighs, knowing he's been cornered. "but i’ll do it, only if oscar does it too."

you turn to oscar, who looks less than thrilled at the prospect. "come on, oscar. remember that time you forgot my birthday?"

“i was in hospital! i had a reason!”

“still forgot it!”

oscar groans. "fine, i’ll do it. but this better not end up on the internet."

you turn to george and alex, who are watching the exchange with amusement. "you guys in?"

george grins. "i'm always up for a challenge."

alex nods in agreement. "sure, why not? carpe diem and all that.”

lando, of course, is already on board. "let's do it! who’s who?”

“i’ve already thought about it. here me out.” you start. “lando is harry, curly haired and british.”

lando fist-bumps you.

“alex is zayn.”

alex rolls his eyes. “because i’m an asian brit too?”

“okay i didn’t think about that but it kind of fits.” you think. “i meant it because zayn’s obviously the best.”

alex grins, obviously pleased with the flattery. george stares at you, impatiently tapping his foot.

“hurry it up y/n. who am i?”

“liam.” george thinks about it for a moment and then shrugs. “he’s the leader of the group and you created our groupchat and this meetup.”

“i can deal with that.”

“oscar is louis because he has the least amount of lines and i thought he’d appreciate that.” oscar smiles. “logan is niall because… blond.”

“how come they all got actual thought put in to theirs and i’m niall because i’m blond?” logan raises an eyebrow.

“blond was the best i could do on short-notice.” you shrug. “but hey, he’s irish! who doesn’t love the irish?”

“fair point.”

you move over to the machine and start to play ‘kiss you’ by one direction. as the familiar beats fill the karaoke bar, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement. this is going to be epic, whether oscar likes it or not.

oscar, looking less than thrilled, reluctantly takes his place on stage, shooting you a glare that says, "you owe me big time for this."

logan, standing awkwardly beside him, shifts uncomfortably, clearly not used to being the center of attention. you give him an encouraging smile, silently urging him to embrace the moment. you’re only a f1 driver/one direction cosplayer once, right?

lando, fully embracing his role as harry, struts to the front of the stage, oozing charisma and charm. alex, begrudgingly accepting his role as zayn, follows suit, trying his best to channel the brooding bad boy persona.

george, ever the showman, takes center stage as liam, belting out the lyrics with gusto. despite his initial reluctance, even oscar starts to get into the groove.

as for logan, well, he may not be the most enthusiastic performer, but he's giving it his all, his awkwardness somehow adding to the charm of the performance.

you, meanwhile, stand off to the side, phone in hand, filming the entire spectacle. this is going straight to your social media, no doubt about it.

as the song reaches its climax, the entire group comes together in perfect harmony, their voices blending seamlessly as they sing their hearts out. it may not be the most polished performance, but it's definitely one for the books. as the final notes fade away, the bar erupts into cheers and applause, and you can't help but feel a sense of joy as your friends amble off the stage and you all head out into the cool night.

liked by bestie1, logan.priv and 32 others.

maneater.priv: shoutout miami for having so many foreign babes 😋

view 34 comments.

bestie1: who are the foreign babes you speak of? i just see a bunch of white dudes and alex.

-> maneater.priv: um actually we have many 🤨 lando and george r british, alex is thai and british and oscar is aussie 😋 in america, they all foreign and logan may not be foreign but he’s a babe.

-> logan.priv: nicest y/n comment. possibly the y/n comment of all time actually.

oscar.priv: delete the last slide.

alex.priv: lily said she’s gonna text you the link to that shirt you liked.

-> maneater.priv: i knew i liked you for a reason.

oscar.priv: i know you see these (your full government name). DELETE.

lando.priv: how did you go to a strip club with oscar before me??

-> maneater.priv: me, u and vegas. we’ll go crazy.

-> lando.priv: YIPPEEE 😁😁

oscar.priv: blocking you btw.

george.priv: told u that you’d have fun!!!

-> maneater.priv: sorry i can’t agree with a man. ruins my street cred.

-> george.priv: what street cred?

-> maneater.priv: DELETE!!!!

-> oscar.priv: speaking of things that need to be deleted… delete the last slide 🙄

-> maneater.priv: no :D

oscar.priv: how would u feel if i shipped u with another driver?

-> maneater.priv: that depends… is he a hot one?

-> oscar.priv: no.

-> lando.priv: 😔

-> george.priv: stop being mean to lando oscar.priv.

-> oscar.priv: he deserves it.

-> george.priv: 213.40.205.53

-> oscar.priv: i hate it here.

[mingtinys]

" i would do anything for you "

pairing : lee chan x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : traffic violations ( for a good cause ! )

word count : 0.6 k

a/n : it's bittersweet posting this last part of the series :( i'm so sad for it to end cause i've had so much fun , but i couldn't be happier with how it turned out ! thank you to everyone that showed this series so much love and support <3 next up .... an nct series !!

Maybe you're just being paranoid. Perhaps the scratching at your back door wasn't some crazed killer messing with you before the inevitable. In fact, it's extremely likely you've simply stayed up too late and now your brain is playing tricks. But are you willing to take that chance? Absolutely not.

The fifth scratch comes and you're picking up the phone to dial the first person you can think of.

Chan reaches your home at a speed only possible by violating a few traffic laws. Armed with nothing but a broken broomstick and his dinosaur bedroom slippers. You're not even sure he's entirely awake. But he marches his way through your home and straight to the back door with conviction, advising you to stay back while he handles it.

He lowers his voice a few octaves as he speaks. "Whoever is out there, you better knock it off!" The scratching noise picks up. "I'll come out there!" Chan warns, though sounding a little unsure. Yet the scratching never ceases.

At this point, the genius thought to call the police finally enters your panicked brain. Something that probably should have been your first instinct. But it's too late, you can hear Chan thrusting the door open. "Alright, you asked for it– oh..."

When your savior returns, a fluffy orange creature in hand, you feel your face drain of all color. Your friend's cat. The one you were supposed to be sitting while they were away on a business trip. You'd forgotten you'd even let him outside to explore hours ago.

Chan points to the cat with a mock-serious look, "Is this guy bothering you, babe?"

Though severely embarrassed, you let out a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry, Peanut," you coo at the cat, carefully taking him from your boyfriend's arms and carrying him over to his food, which you're certain is what he was scratching to get in for.

When you spin back around, Chan's arms are crossed over his chest, an expectant look on his face. "You know, usually the knight in shining armor gets a kiss for his bravery."

The playful tone in his voice alleviates some of the guilt you feel for calling him over at two a.m. to defend you from a killer cat. A gesture for which you're more than happy to reward with a kiss or two. And once he's claimed his prize, Chan happily gathers you in his arms. He rubs circles into your back, soothing any remaining anxiety in your muscles.

"I'm sorry you came all the way here for nothing," you mumble into his shoulder. "I guess I watched one too many crime shows and sort of panicked."

"You don't need to apologize. It's my job to be here whenever you need me." He pulls back and takes your face in his hands, holding your gaze with genuine eyes. "I would do anything for you."

That confession earns him a second kiss, causing him to break out in a dopey grin. "My hero," you tease, although he looks rather proud of himself for it.

"One question though?"

"What's that?"

"If you thought someone was trying to break in, why didn't you just call the police?"

Trust, Chan is over the moon to be the person you call in a time of need. But realistically, what was he supposed to do? Fight to the death with his bare hands and a broomstick to save you? He absolutely would... doesn't mean he'd win.

You pause. "I don't know, I guess I just panicked and thought of you first."

Chan is probably going to be riding that ego boost for the rest of his life.

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @armycarat2612

[sofiahchan]

How would Deepspace boys act when their wife (MC) is in labour? ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°)

— 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

Rafayel was letting you hold his hand tight as he was sweating, he simply doesn't know what to do. He is nervous, offering you anything you want, even if it's a small piece of napkin or water. He would always give you a lot of praise while you gave birth. How come your journey together ends here, yet you have a new start? He feels so happy and so nervous right now in this moment that he will be a dad.

Rafayel doesn't know much about childbirth, just the basics. It's hard for him to see you in so much pain, and he wishes he could help and take all your pain away. He wants to give you strong support and he whisper compliments to you.

Looking at you, he could notice how you’re panicking inside. He tried his best to comfort you, making sure you were comfortable and knowing how much he’s proud of you. He’s grateful to have you as his wife and now the mother of his child. When the sound of a baby crying can be heard, Rafayel can feel his eyes getting teary as he stares at his newborn baby. He can't stop praising how strong you are, he is fully overjoyed. He lets you hold the baby in your arms. Performing the skin-to-skin contact as he looks down on such a memorable sight. I was thinking how adorable it is that now he has a baby that is a mixture of you and him together in your arms. evidence of how you both love each other and are willing to raise a child together. Finally, he gives you a comforting kiss on your forehead while keeping an eye out for you and his new little sunshine.

— 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 

Zayne knows what you need most during pregnancy. Heating pads, pillows, even your favorite food? You named it. He got everything prepared for you, ensuring that your pregnancy would go smoothly as he tried his best to help you out. Even if he’s busy, he always answers your texts and calls quickly, making permission letters to the higher-ups so he can take care of you without neglecting his work too. In your final moments, he would still ensure that you have all the stuff that’s needed. He offers you a glass of water with a straw and even a handkerchief to wipe your sweat. Giving you a gentle squeeze as he holds onto your hand.

In his free time, he tries to learn more about your pregnancy, including which month you will be able to identify its gender, in which month you will need more supplies, and about the last trimester of your pregnancy. He convinced himself that everything would go well, so he had to be ready to deal with whatever challenges might appear. This way, he would always reassure you that everything would go well for the baby and yourself.

Once he sees the baby inside the hospital bassinet, a warm smile appears on his face. He was pleased to see the blessings that are now given to both of you. A warm hand suddenly lingers on your head, and you can feel how he is caressing your hair. He gave you a soft kiss on your forehead as he looked down at you. Looking down at you and the baby inside the hospital bassinet next to her hospital bed, “How lucky I am to be blessed with such a strong wife,” he whispers as he holds onto one of your hands.

— 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

Xavier’s gentle nature shines through as he conceals his inner nervousness with a tender smile reflecting in his eyes. Not wanting his emotions to overshadow the moment, he soothingly murmurs words of encouragement not only to you but to the little life growing within your womb. With a caring touch, he delicately sweeps strands of your hair behind your ears, a gesture filled with affection and tenderness. Embracing you in a warm hug, he holds you close, his embrace a source of comfort and security as he endeavors to create an atmosphere of relaxation and ease for you.

He is struggling to avert his gaze from the unfolding scene, fully aware that the sight of blood could easily cause him to lose consciousness. Imagining a different scenario where you were not experiencing labor pains, this whole situation might have a hint of humor to it.

Seeing the tiny baby on his arms, Xavier held his tears as his fingers closed up to the baby's face, watching him pick it up. "He's so cute and lovely; you did a great job." You see Xavier smiling while hearing his praises for you and hoping the baby looks more like you. After going through all that, Xavier tries his best to cook for both you and the baby for the first time. He managed to make something edible and started to spoil you with his home-made food.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Daddy’s Girl

Dean Winchester & daughter!reader

Synopsis: your life growing up as Dean’s daughter (ignores cannon)

You were born of Dean’s short-lived relationship with Lisa. When he was forced to leave his family behind to keep them safe, he was also forced to take you with him. He’d wanted to leave you, to keep you safe, but with Lisa and Ben’s memories wiped of him, you got wiped with him.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said as Dean held you in his arms. “There’s no way to erase you without erasing her, too.”

Despite how much Dean wanted to keep you safe, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret how things turned out.

…

Sam pursed his lips, and Dean couldn’t hold back his laugh when he spotted his brother covered in broccoli.

You started giggling when you noticed your father’s smile, but Dean clamped his mouth shut when he saw you laughing.

“Hey now,” he scolded, trying desperately to look stern despite still being able to see the broccoli in Sam’s hair. “Don’t throw food.”

“Is yucky!” You whined, kicking your feet.

Dean gave you his signature ‘dad glare’ and you gave him the puppy eyes that he was convinced Sammy taught you just to drive him nuts.

Neither of you were willing to give in, far too stubborn for anyone’s good. Finally, Sam broke the awkward silence.

“How about we try a new veggie?”

…

“What are you watching?”

Dean tore his eyes away from the screen to see Sam standing in the doorway.

“Saw, why?”

Sam scoffed, “Do you think she’s old enough for that?” He gestured to five-year-old you, curled up in your dad’s arms.

“She’s out like a light, she has no clue what’s going on,” Dean assured him.

“So what, she’s your new stuffed animal?” Sam chuckled.

“It’s called parenting, Sammy. Now shut up, you’re gonna wake her up.”

…

“Daddy, look!”

Dean rubbed his hands over his face, closing the lore book in front of him when you came bounding into the war room.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” He asked, his voice thick with exhaustion as he lifted you into his lap.

“I maked the Impala,” you grinned, showing off a pencil sketch of Baby colored in with a black crayon. “Uncle Sammy only helped a little.”

Dean could tell from the detail of the drawing that Sam helped more than a little, but he didn’t care.

“This is great!” He praised. “Baby would be so proud, looks almost as good as her.”

You giggled. “Can I hang it on the fridge?”

“I think it’d be a crime if we didn’t,” Dean insisted, standing up with you in his arms so he could carry you to the kitchen.

…

“Dad!”

Dean staggered back in surprise when ten-year-old you launched yourself into his arms the moment he stepped into the bunker.

“Hey kid,” he chuckled, but his smile dropped when he noticed your strangled breaths, and how tightly you were clinging to him. “You ok? We weren’t gone that lon-“

“Someone’s in the bunker,” you whispered, and Dean now also noticed that you were shaking.

“What?” He demanded, lowering you to the ground and grabbing his gun with one hand, keeping his other hand on your shoulder protectively.

“I-I heard footsteps,” you stammered, still trying to catch your breath. “So I ran, and-and I was looking for a place to hide when you opened the door.”

“You’re sure it was footsteps?”

“I know what I heard!” Your stammer left you when your fear turned to annoyance.

“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “I believe you. Now, I want you to go and hide in my room, ok? Stay there, and don’t open the door unless it’s me, understand?”

“B-but…” you glanced around nervously, unwilling to let go of your father.

“I need you to do this,” Dean said. “I need you safe, ok? You’re gonna be fine.”

You nodded, but Dean’s jacket was still clenched between your fingers.

“C’mon now, go!” Dean gave your arm a gentle push, and as soon as the two of you were no longer touching you seemed spurned into action. You ran in the other direction, headed straight for your dad’s room.

Once the door was closed and locked behind you, you immediately went to sit on Dean’s bed, your arms wrapped around your knees as you tried hard to stop your trembling.

You assured yourself over and over again that your dad would take care of it; he’d get the intruder out, and it would all be ok. When you heard footsteps echoing through the hall, your heart lifted, sure that your dad was coming to get you.

But then the doorknob jiggled as someone tried to open it. It stopped, but still no knock came, no “hey, it’s me,” from Dean; nothing.

Until with a loud bang! the door flew free of its hinges.

You scrambled back with a cry of surprise, and your hand found something hard under Dean’s pillow. You snatched it up as the intruder—a tall man with blond hair and a dark suit—stalked towards you.

You lifted the object, surprised when you saw that it was Dean’s gun.

“St-stay back!” You warned. The man hesitated for only a second before continuing his advance towards you.

“You don’t have the guts,” he scoffed. He took one more step—he was only a couple of feet away—and reached out to grab you.

The gun kicked back in your hands as you fired, and you nearly dropped it. A look of morbid shock crossed the man’s face, but it only lasted for a brief second as he slumped to the ground at the side of Dean’s bed.

Your whole body was shaking. Your hands didn’t seem able to let go of the gun. You could feel blood on your face where it had splattered.

“Sweetheart?”

Your whole body flinched at the sound of your father’s voice. He was in the center of the room—you hadn’t even noticed him come in—and his hands were held out towards you.

“Sweetheart, give me the gun.”

Your hands went limp when Dean grabbed the gun. He tossed it onto his bed, his attention never leaving your face, which was turned towards the dead man on the floor.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me,” Dean demanded. Your eyes slowly found your father’s, afraid of what you might find there. But there was no anger, or judgment, not even surprise. There was only comfort, maybe a little worry.

“Let’s go,” Dean said, lifting you into his arms. When he saw you staring at the dead man, he cradled the back of your head in his hand and pushed your face against his shoulder as he carried you out of the room.

“I killed him.”

Your voice came out muffled against Dean’s shirt, and Dean’s heart constricted at the quaver in your voice.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he soothed, subconsciously rocking you in his arms like he used to do when you could barely crawl. “He was gonna hurt you, you defended yourself. You did nothing wrong.” Dean sighed. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I didn’t want you to have to do that.”

“I killed somebody,” you said again, and Dean’s arms tightened around you. He knew he couldn’t talk you out of this; not yet, you were still in shock. So he’d do the only thing he could.

“It’s gonna be ok, baby,” he soothed. “I promise.”

…

“Where is that girl?”

“You lookin for Y/N?” Sam asked as Dean wandered around the bunker.

“Unless we’ve got another girl living here I don’t know about,” Dean shot back.

Sam just rolled his eyes.

“She’s in the library doing homework.”

“Again?” Dean shook his head. “I think I’ve let her spend too much time with you, she’s becoming quite the nerd.”

“Don’t look at me,” Sam chuckled. “I told her to take a break like an hour ago. That nerdy behavior is all her.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Dean closed the book in front of Sam. “You both need a break.”

“Ok,” Sam shrugged. “Good luck, she’s just as stubborn as you.”

“We’ll see.”

…

“Hey!” You yelped in surprise when your dad lifted you up and out of your chair, Sam watching from the doorway with a grin on his face.

“No more books, you two have spent too much time being nerds this week.”

“But I have a paper to write!”

“You mean that paper you told me is due in three weeks?”

“Well…”

“Uh huh,” Dean said. “You’ve got time, so take a break.”

“On one condition; we watch Lord of the Rings.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam cut in.

“Oh come on,” Dean groaned. “Could you two be bigger nerds?”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t want to watch it,” you giggled, trying to squirm out of Dean’s hold since he still hadn’t put you down.

“I don’t remember asking for your input,” Dean huffed, setting you down on your bed and digging his fingers into your stomach. You squealed in surprise as your dad tickled you. “And I certainly didn’t ask for your sass!”

“Who-who do you thin-think taught it to me!” You giggled, squirming as Dean didn’t let up.

“Hey now!” Dean scoffed. “Now you’re just asking for it.”

Dean continued to scratch and poke at your sides, your stomach, and your neck until your face was bright red and your laughter was silent.

“Alright, let’s go,” Dean said as he let up, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way towards the Dean cave, Sam following behind.

“Yo-hou’re mean,” you giggled.

Dean just chuckled.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

[cordeliawhohung]

Hiii! I've just binged mafia Price again, as one would, and now I desperately wanna know their first time together 😍 Was it after dating some time, ot much longer or maybe right away? How did they felt? Nervous I bet, but what was anticipation like? Did he make it a planned occasion, or was it casual? Was it quick rough, or slow and sensual, or something else? Like 🤯🤯🤯 My mind's gonna blow thinking about all these. Give this girl some insight, pretty please 👉🏻👈🏻

ugh i answered an ask a few weeks ago that was sort of similar to this but about them dating and i was trying to find it to link with this post but alas, tumblr search is dog water lmfao. anyway it's been a bit since i've written something proper for him so enjoy a drabble to answer your question (:

mafia!141 masterlist

cw: alcohol, smut, mutually possessive sex, (maybe slight technical dub-con due to the alcohol but both parties are awake and aware i'm just putting this here just in case)

When John got home, he found you in the kitchen.

Quiet music hummed through the speaker on your phone as you worked on serving two big plates of food like you had predicted his arrival. You greeted him with a grin as you gestured to the food in front of you on the island, proud of your work. Its fragrant aroma was mouth watering, almost to the point he found it difficult to think about anything other than eating. Your smile was contagious and John found himself chuckling as he approached the other side of the island.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"Dinner, of course," you replied.

John scoffed slightly at his rather poorly worded question and your cheeky response. "Alright, well what's the occasion?"

"No occasion," you said. "You've been at work all day, and I felt like cooking, so..." You paused to pick up one of the plates and held it out for him to take. "Dinner!"

In the last few months that you had been staying with him, you had cooked plenty of times, but never anything quite like that. A part of you felt a little guilty for not being able to show your appreciation as much as you wanted to, for taking you in and keeping a roof over your head, but more often than not he wouldn't allow it. There were few chores he would allow you to do as a guest in his home, and if you wanted to cook or clean for him, you often had to do it under his nose when he wasn't home.

And still, instead of telling you how you didn't have to do all that, how you didn't have to waste your evening cooking a lavish meal, he took it without complaint and allowed you to lead him into the living room. That evening was full of good food, a very expensive wine that you attempted to convince John not to open but he did anyway, and an old slasher film that was more humorous than it was unsettling.

Something was different about that night. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was something else, but you seemed to smile and laugh more than you had for the last few weeks. And you were beautiful. The way the dim glow of the TV illuminated your face as you took a sip of wine, the way you laughed and pointed at the screen when one of the characters died; you were perfect.

"Thank you. For taking care of me," you suddenly spoke up.

John had stared at you for so long he didn't even realize that the movie was over, but you didn't seem to mind his unwavering gaze. Yet he was a bit confused by your sudden comment. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the truth, but he felt like he didn't deserve it.

"Your gratitude is wasted on someone like me," he muttered, eyes refusing to leave your face.

"What makes you say that?" you asked.

"I'm not a good man."

"I know."

While it wasn't the answer he expected, John was glad you knew that much about him at least. He gave you a breathy laugh as he looked down at the remaining wine left in his glass. The dark red liquid swirled around as he leaned forward to place it on the coffee table.

"How do you know?" he questioned, hoping you would indulge him.

"I've always known," you said as if it was obvious. "If you were a good man, you'd be dead by now. Good men don't live long in your line of work."

"So you've known I'm a bad man this whole time?"

The expression on your face contorted and it wasn't long before your hand rested on his arm. He didn't dare look down to where your fingers brushed against his skin because he feared you would retract if he did, like someone who didn't want to get bitten by a dog.

"You're not a bad man," you retorted as if the very thought had offended you.

"How do you know?" John challenged.

"Because you are kind."

In that moment, John swore he had always known you, and maybe he did. He had known you as the chief's daughter when he was a child. He had known you and your laughter as you sat next to him in maths as a teen. You had always been there, lingering in the back of his mind, finding him when he least expected it.

So when you leaned into him, he didn't stop you. And he didn't stop you when your hands rested on his chest, or when your lips pressed against his. In fact, he savored every moment of it. Your skin on his, your teeth sinking into his flesh; it all felt so familiar like your body was the only one he had ever held that way.

It all happened so fast he felt dizzy, but all John knew was that when he saw you laid out naked on his bed there was nothing in the world that would ever take you from him. He couldn't stop the way his lips were drawn to your chest where he kissed a gentle trail between your breasts and down to your navel. He couldn't stop the way his mouth latched onto your cunt like it was the only sustenance he would need for the rest of his life.

And it was the most love you had felt in your entire life. The way he gently pawed at your body not in greed, but because he needed you to be closer, to feel every inch of you. Every moan that left your lips was carefully fished for, and if one thing didn't work he would try another. The way he crooked his fingers inside of you and swiped his tongue over your clit was all done so carefully, only aiming to please you.

When he eventually pulled away from you, got you so worked up that your legs quaked, you wanted to return the favor. Wanted to thank him for taking you in, for treating you as well as he had, but when you tried to sit up his hand firmly kept you pinned against the mattress. He reminded you that you were under his roof. You were his to take care of.

He continued to remind you of that fact with every pump of his cock inside of you. Each thrust had you repeating his words back to him with pitched moans, how he would take care of you, how good he was to you, how you were his to take care of, you were his, you were his. By the time he emptied himself into you with a heavy grunt and a needy kiss, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

After that night, you only slept in his bed, and eventually it wasn't just his bed, but yours too. It happened slowly, and all at once, that he had become yours and you had become his, and yet at the same time, it was like it was never any other way to begin with.

[bad268]

Hi lovely, what abouta fic about Ollie telling you he got the Haas contract?

Contracts (Ollie Bearman X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (speedrun)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 712

Summary: Ollie tells you about his contract next year.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Ollie has been more smiley lately. Part of you knew he was always generally happy around race weekends and his free practice sessions, but you could not put your finger on it. Silverstone was just a whole different level. 

Then you account it as him being happy to be at his home race. That’s all it was.

You were in the kitchen cooking the night before media day when Ollie came in and sat on the counter beside you. He looked down at you before gently tapping your side with his leg as you stirred the food in the pan. You looked up at him expectantly, but he did not say anything.

“If you’re asking for a taste test, it’s not cooked yet,” You said simply as you gestured to the food that was just starting to sizzle. He looked down at it briefly before looking back at you and shaking his head. “Well, what do you want then? I’m not letting you try to cook. Last time I did that, you almost burned the kitchen down.”

“No, don’t let me cook,” He chuckled as he jumped down, so he could stand behind you and wrap his arms around you, swaying as you added seasoning to the food. 

“I’ll let you cook, just not with food,” You teased as you leaned back into his chest and rested your head back to look up at him. He just looked down at you causing you to chuckle lightly.  “Okay, I’m done. What?”

“No, maybe I don’t wanna tell you anymore,” Ollie pouted as he turned away from you and crossed his arms. You turned the heat down a little before stepping away to stand in front of him. He turned his head away from you, but you put your hands on his forearms, shaking him gently.

“Please?” You pouted back as your forced tears to well up in your eyes. Maybe you could guilt him into telling you. “I promise I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you want.”

Ollie briefly glanced down but did a double-take when he saw the tears. Have you done this before? Yes. Was it still going to break down his walls? Absolutely. He let out a sigh as he uncrossed his arms and opted to hold your hands in his.

“I guess I can tell you,” He groans out in mocking reluctance. “I may or may not have signed for next year already.”

“Oh, with Prema? I didn’t know you wanted a third year of F2,” You responded, surprised. 

“No, not with Prema,” He laughed, confused how you were completely clueless about the rumors.

“Do not tell me you signed for another team!” You gasped as you held his hands tighter and gently shook them. “That’s not fair! They’re like family!”

“Well, technically, I did sign with another team,” He chuckled to himself as he thought about it.

“Do I get to know what team and when this will be announced? I deserve that,” You sighed, ready to come to terms with joining a new team, “I’ll need to color coordinate. No other team in F2 is red.”

“Red is fine,” Ollie said simply. “Haas is red, and I think I’m still a Ferrari Junior, so when Lewis retires or Charles leaves, I could move up.”

“Wait,” You made him pause. You’re head was running at a million miles a second when suddenly, it all stopped. It was like all the wind left your lungs as you whispered, “You signed with Haas?”

“I signed with Haas,” Ollie whispered back with a huge smile on his face.

“No way! I’m so proud of you!” You cheered as you jumped into Ollie’s arms. He held you tightly to him as he spun you two around the kitchen. Eventually, he set you back on the ground, but neither of you could wipe the large smiles off your faces. “How long have you known?”

“If I say you’ll be mad,” Ollie said bashfully as he avoided eye contact. “Plus, I know you can’t keep a secret.”

“Hey!” You shouted as you slapped his arm. “I can keep a secret!”

“Oh please,” Ollie scoffed, “You ruined our soft launch!”

“How was I supposed to know the story went public instead of close friends?”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[viviennevermillion]

late night snack

✧ synopsis: you find your hungry captain in the ship's kitchen at 1am. you decide to have mercy on him and make him a meal.

✧ contains: luffy x gn!reader, ambiguous relationship (bc honestly luffy is so aroace-coded to me), cuddles, cooking as a bonding experience, 2.1k words

✧ now playing: johnny boy (instrumental) — santiano

✧ warnings: none

"Luffy, I'm almost too afraid to ask, but what exactly is it you're trying to do?"

It was the dead of the night and you originally just planned to make a quick trip to the kitchen and back for a glass of juice. After all, everyone was already sleeping and there were no disturbances in sight. Considering the plethora of instances that had you running away from marines or getting into fights with other pirates, that was a blessing to be fully taken advantage off. So you were looking forward to let the swaying of the ship on the waves lull you back into the land of dreams and find solace in the soft sound of light rain meeting the Going Merry.

But you found that when you entered the kitchen, you were not alone. And wherever your captain was, adventure was never far behind. This time "adventure" came in the form of a fire hazard frying pan with food in it taped to the kitchen wall with Luffy's rubber arm holding onto the wooden spoon. Luffy himself was standing on the other side of the room, his arm stretched all the way across the kitchen.

"Oh hi!", he exclaimed, happy to see you, then started to explain his current predicament, "well you see, Sanji refused to make me some food because it is 1am and I said 'Sanji, please' and he groaned 'make it yourself'. So I thought 'hey, that's actually not a bad idea!'"

"I don't like where this is going, but go on", you let out a sigh but could hardly be mad at him for the chaos he had caused in the kitchen, given the way he was looking at you with such a pure smile. "So, given that this was my first time cooking anything, my first attempt didn't work out as I intended to", he continued, "so I wanted to clean up the kitchen so Sanji wouldn't get mad, but you see, the spoon got stuck to the frying pan and I can't remove it even with my devil fruit powers." He still looked so carefree explaining this, that you couldn't help but envy him for his seemingly complete lack of stress and anxiety.

You stepped closer to the pan to see how he managed to get the wooden spoon stuck on it. You looked back and forth between the pan and your smiling captain, blinking in disbelief a couple of times. "I really don't get what I did wrong, I did exactly what the cookbook said", Luffy went on, "it said caramelize the onions-"

You stopped him right there, gesturing to the frying pan. "So let me just confirm this: you threw a whole fish and three whole onions into the pan and put caramel on it... and from the looks of it mozzarella?" Luffy nodded. "Sanji always said that being a chef also means you can be creative with the food you make and I thought that sounded really fun!", he stemmed his hands into his hips. "You look way too proud of this", you raised an eyebrow with concern written on your face, sending a silent prayer to whatever was out there to hear you. Keep my captain safe, never let him near a stove unsupervised.

You gently removed his fist from the spoon, hearing his rubber arm snap back to its natural length. "You're lucky you're cute...", you sighed and removed the pan from the wall, putting it aside with a slightly painful smile on your face, "this is a Sanji problem."

Even though you had a soft spot for him, or perhaps especially because of it, you felt the need to remind Luffy of the dangers of cooking with 0 experience. "Please be more careful next time... you could have caused a fire on the ship", you turned around to speak to him only to find he was no longer where he had been standing just seconds ago. You looked around the room and found him rummaging through the fridge again. "I'm still hungry", he pouted. You could even hear his stomach growling. For the sake of him and everyone else you decided it was better to not let him go to bed hungry and risk waking up to the final inferno that would annihilate all seas.

"If I make you something, will you help me prepare the ingredients and clean up the kitchen?", you sighed but you looked up in surprise when you found Luffy in your embrace, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug and pressing his cheek to your shoulder. "Yes, thank you, you're the best!", he exclaimed and you couldn't help but smile, wrapping your arms around your captain as well and running your fingers through his soft hair. His hug felt warm and comforting and you almost didn't want to let go yet, but reminded yourself that you had promised to make him some food.

So you went over to the fridge and the pile of ingredients that Luffy had already dragged out of it and checked what you could make with the stuff you had. "I suppose I could make some wraps", you reasoned and started organizing the ingredients. "Ooh, fill mine with lots of meat please!", Luffy was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rocking back and forth with excitement. "Sure thing", you smiled back at him and tossed him the salad. "Can you wash this and cut a few leaves of it into small stripes?", you asked and Luffy nodded, getting up from the floor, seemingly lost in thought.

"Right... it needs to be washed", he repeated slowly as if this had been a major enlightenment to him. "Good lord...", you whispered with wide eyes, shaking your head at the mental image of what could have happened if you hadn't prevented him from making another 'Luffy original'. "Also, I noticed the oil was still in the cupboard, did you not use it when you tried to fry your fish?", you asked out of curiosity. Luffy shrugged. "I didn't know you had to put oil, I thought any liquid worked." You took a deep breath. "What did you put?" "Ketchup."

Despite everything, Luffy did a pretty good job following your instructions; after all, he had properly cut the salad, tomatoes and pulled the ground beef apart. "Cutting vegetables is harder than I thought", you just heard him mumble and turned around to find him staring at you with helplessness in his eyes, holding up his bleeding pointer finger.

"Yeah that's my fault, I should have seen that coming...", you sighed and opened a kitchen drawer to pull out the bandaids. "There you go", you said after putting the bandaid on Luffy's finger. He looked down at his finger, now covered in a black bandaid with a pirate skull on it and you just quietly heard him mumble something about a 'battle scar'.

"Sunshine, I think the tomato clearly won that one", you raised an eyebrow, preparing the meat for the wraps on the stove. "There'll be a rematch", Luffy informed you in a motivated tone. "Sure, tell that to Sanji tomorrow, I'm sure he's going to think that's a splendid idea", you chuckled. "Yeah, I will!", Luffy smiled at you. You laughed and went on to show Luffy how to prepare the beef.

He looked over your shoulder with his chin rested on it, watching what you did closely. He seemed curious and fascinated by how different cooking worked from what he originally thought. You leaned your head against his and heard him yawn. Luffy wrapped his arms around you again, nuzzling your neck with his eyes closed. "Hey, don't go falling asleep on me now, you don't want to miss your meal right?", you reminded him and he yawned again, nodding. "Don't worry, 'm awake", he mumbled with a tired voice.

Having him cling to you like this, peacefully resting on your shoulder, made you almost disappointed when the meat was finally done.

"This is great!", Luffy exclaimed with his mouth stuffed full of food after you had handed him two wraps, "thank you so much for the food!" You quietly enjoyed your own wrap, smiling at the situation. Luffy had a way of making every encounter the two of you had one without regrets, even if it involved cooking at 1am. As long as he was happy, you were content.

After finishing your late night snack, both of you decided it was time for a small break so you settled down on the couch, holding Luffy in your arms. You were laying on your back, your head propped up by a pillow, while your captain was resting on your chest with a satisfied smile on his face. He looks so cute, you thought, playing with his hair.

Luffy let out another yawn and you soon noticed he was drifting off to sleep. He looked so peaceful sleeping in your embrace and you cupped his cheek gently, pressing a soft goodnight kiss to his forehead. This was the night you found out that Luffy was a sleep-talker. "...Meat", he'd mumble and you smiled, deciding it would be cruel to get up now to wash the dishes and risk waking him up. Maybe you'd manage to get up in the morning before Sanji would wake up. This is worth it, Sanji will understand, you reasoned with yourself with perhaps a little too much optimism, something you suspected may have rubbed off on you from Luffy.

"Back in Windmill Village, they considered me a meat philosopher", Luffy mumbled in his sleep and it took you two minutes to suppress a laugh.

This man is an experience, you bit your lip to hold back your wheezing, burying your face in your hands. You just had to ask him to elaborate on this once he'd wake up. You shook your head with a bright smile on your face. Your fingers started gently drawing circles on Luffy's back, causing him to try and snuggle even closer in his sleep. Once you had recovered from your captain's sleep-talking endeavors, tiredness soon caught up to you and you drifted off to sleep, still holding onto Luffy. It was a peaceful night indeed.

But the peace was never meant to last. Once the sun had risen, you wake up to an angry "Luffy!" echoing through the kitchen. Luffy's eyes fluttered open and he promptly sat up. "Oh, good morning Sanji", he called out with a happy expression, stretching his limbs. Your ship's cook had a threatening smile on his face. "Don't 'good morning Sanji' me, what the fuck did you two do to my kitchen?"

"I helped y/n make food", Luffy explained, proud of his contribution. "I can see that", Sanji grabbed the caramel abomination from the kitchen counter and held it up, "this pan is literally ruined." You sat up as well and raised your hands. "In my defense, this was all his doing. I wasn't here to prevent this."

Luffy looked at you from the side. "Ratting me out like this... I thought we were in this together", he pouted and rested his chin on his knees. "Nuh-uh", you shook your head, "I'm not taking responsibility for Satan's first edible plague... then again I don't think you can even call this edible." "Technically almost everything is edible", Luffy gave you a thumbs-up.

"Dishes. Now."

You got up very fast after discovering that Sanji was not messing around. That was the day you two got sentenced to dish-washing duty for the next 3 weeks. Originally it was supposed to be one week, but you may or may not have gotten into a foam fight with Luffy, leaving the kitchen in an even bigger mess.

"This reminds me of my job at Baratie. Good times", Luffy was reminiscing. "You didn't have 'a job', you had to do the dishes because you couldn't pay for what looked like your last supper", you reminded him. "And I only broke 5 of them", he proudly informed you.

You couldn't help but laugh, Luffy joining in not soon after. You were once again reminded why you would never regret joining this crew. If someone could make even washing dishes fun and make you happy like this, you'd be damned to not keep him in your life. Luffy was like the sun, brightening up each day since you had met him; even the darkest of them. He looked up and caught you smiling at him from the side.

"What's the matter?", he asked, smiling back.

"Just thinking about how happy I am to have met you."

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

⋆ 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵 𝓥𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻: 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓜𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓜𝓮 𝓢𝓸 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 ⋆

Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!

⋆ Subtle. A word that may not mean much, but spoke volumes when it came to your relationship with Jamil. The way he would show his affection, taking care of you and making it seem like it was nothing. The days when he would make you a lunch, handing it to you as he explains that he made too much. You would open it to find your favorite foods, with a little dessert for you for after. Or the times when he would text you, reminding you of things you had mentioned to him offhand, so that you wouldn’t forget. Taking the time to remind you in person too, depending on how important it was.

⋆ You could be at work, in the middle of your shift when Jamil would stop by, checking to see how you were. He would remind you of the thing you had mentioned, not wanting you to forget before asking when you were taking your lunch break. He didn’t want to disturb you while you were working, so if you had already taken it he would leave, giving you a quick kiss before saying he’ll see you later. If you hadn’t taken your lunch break yet and he had time, he would stay, joining you until it was over.

⋆ He paid attention to you. To your words, to your actions. Even the slightest change in your appearance, he would notice. He made you feel special and loved through all the little things he would do, things that could easily go unnoticed. The way he would give you a water bottle if he noticed you weren’t drinking enough, not wanting you to get dehydrated. The way he would leave one of his hoodies out for you, noticing you hadn’t brought a jacket when it was expected to be cold. The way he would notice something new you were wearing, no matter how small it was, telling you it looked nice while thinking you should wear it more often.

⋆ What he didn’t expect was for you to do the same, showing your love through gestures that he appreciated more than you know. How you would acknowledge his interests, supporting and encouraging him. How you would help him with his chores, even when he said he didn’t need it, wanting to spend time with him. How you were proud to be his, unafraid to say that he was your boyfriend. How you chose him over so many others, and continue to choose him, over anyone else.

⋆ The party was in full swing, sounds of music and laughter reaching where you were in the kitchen. Jamil stood at the sink, washing dishes while you stood beside him, drying them off as he passed them to you. He said you didn’t have to, telling you to join the others and enjoy the party. You insisted to stay, telling him you’d rather spend the party with him, no matter what you were doing. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at your words, turning his attention back towards the sink. You both stood there, working in amicable silence as the other’s partied. You could hear Kalim shout as the music changed, turning to one of your favorite songs.

⋆ You couldn’t help as you began moving to the song, swaying to the beat. Jamil watched you, a small smile coming to his face while you stood there unaware. After a moment he takes his hands out of the water, waiting until yours were free before turning to you. He took your hand in his, lifting it above your head as he began to spin you around. You laughed as he spun you a few more times, pulling you close to him as you began to dance. It was slow and intimate, the two of you in your own little world as you danced around the kitchen.

⋆ “You make me so happy, Jamil” you say as he pulls you back in, resting your head against his shoulder as you sway together. He makes a noise, your words unexpected. He tightens his hold on you, pulling you closer as he buries his face in your neck. His face was warm as your words sunk in, replaying over and over in his mind. “Say it again” he mumbles out, squeezing you tighter as you repeat your words. The two of you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms for a few minutes, the party continuing in the background. After a moment Jamil moves, lifting your face so your eyes meet. He looks you in the eyes, almost making you feel like he’s looking through you before leaning down so your lips meet. The kiss was brief yet sweet, Jamil resting his forehead against yours, saying

“You make me happy too” ♡

Originally posted: March 1st, 2024

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[dragon-kazansky]

When the raven calls

Morpheus x Female Reader

You, his raven, die protecting Jessamy while rescuing the Dream Lord. When Morpheus returns to his realm, he mourns your loss, only to find a stranger waiting for him in his throne room. The stranger claims to be you, now in human form. He doesn't understand, but his raven will always watch over him.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Eight - Friends through time

☆☆☆

1389

The first time Morpheus met Hob was a long, long time ago. Dream had longer hair back then. You had been there too, just not inside the tavern.

No, you had to wait outside. You waited on a wall, muttering to yourself about how unfair it was that birds weren't allowed inside. Then remembered you were among mortals and had to hush up. It would only be complicated to explain why a raven could talk.

You had agreed with Death that it would do him some good to spend time among them. Dream had disagreed, but he also didn't take much coaxing to get him out here.

Death was proud of him for tagging along. You were just there for moral support.

Death had come out first. She smiled at you and then went on her way. You waited patiently for your king to exit, too.

Soon, the door opened, and Dream came out. He looked amused. He walks over to you.

"I've just met the most curious human."

"That so?"

He chuckles softly and then gestures for you to follow him as he returns back to the Dreaming.

☆☆☆

1489

Once again, you're left outside. You can't see or hear anything that's going on. Dream said he wouldn't be too long. He didn't expect this meeting to go on for very long as he assumed the human would wish for death.

Dream had explained that a man by the name of Robert Gadling refused to die. Death made the man immortal. She would never come and take him the Sunless Lands unless he asked for it.

A hundred years had passed and Hob still wanted to live.

Dream thought this was fascinating. He told Hob to be there in another hundred years.

As Dream left the tavern, you followed.

"Well?"

"He wishes to live. Another hundred years it is then."

"Who is he?" You ask, flapping your wings gently.

Dream doesn't reply. He just smiles.

☆☆☆

1589

You had requested Dream sit by the window when he came to see Hob this time. He said he would try for your sake. However, when Dream arrived, Hob already had a table set up in waiting for him. You sigh and decide to hide in the trees.

Hob Gadling had apparently become rich. He had made some gold and was living life to the fullest. He was knighted and everything. He was happy.

So, of course, he wanted to live.

When Dream came out of the tavern, he was with a young man. You heard him refer to the man as 'Will'. You flew off after them, keeping a distance, furious as to why he had left Hob. Surely their meeting wasn't over already?

Dream would later tell you he met a curious man. One who wishes to write the most wonderful plays to inspire men.

You weren't surprised Dream took an interest in him.

☆☆☆

1689

You finally got to see Hob Gadling. Dream was there first and sat as close to the window as he possibly could. You perched on the window sill outside and peered in. No one paid you any mind, except your king who checked of you were there.

A man is trying to get into the tavern. He is being held back and told he can't come in.

"Let him be. He is my guest."

You look at the man who had come in. This can't possibly be the same Robert Gadling you had heard about. Last you heard, he was rich and doing well for himself.

Then again, a lot can happen in a hundred years.

Hob sits at the table and shoves food in his mouth. He was starving. You watch curiously. Humanity was so fascinating, and he, especially so.

Dream listens as Hob regails the story of how he lost everything. Even his wife and son. You know Dream has felt loss too.

Yet, Hob Gadling still wanted to live.

You were amazed. He was so resilient. Humanity really was something special. You almost wished to experience it for yourself.

Unfortunately, someone spots you outside the window and shoos you away.

Dream hears you fly away.

☆☆☆

1789

To say you were obsessed with the way Dream looked was an understatement. You always admired how your king looked, but he certainly looked regal now.

You were sat by the open window listening to Hob tell Dream of all that had happened since they met last. Hob was confused by why Dream insisted on sitting near an open window.

Other than Hob getting into slave trading, the conversation was going smoothly. You had been listening with great interest in how the world worked. That's when she walked in.

Constantine.

With her were two henchmen she had paid. Their services apparently involved harming others. You were not too happy to see Dream being threatened.

She puts a drawing on the table. Dated last century. This woman knows there's something strange about these two.

While Hob makes jokes and messes with her, Dream remains quiet and firm.

The need to protect your king takes over, and you do not hesitate to fly through the window as Hob fights the thugs. You fly right for Constantine and distract her. While she tries to swat you away, Dream stands up and takes a handful of sand into his palm. He blows it into her face, and you land on the tables.

Constantine is plagued by her past.

Hob looks confused. "That bird came out of nowhere."

"So it did," Dream says, smile tugging at his lips.

Hob looks down at you as you look up at him. You caw. He looks back at Dream.

"You need not have come to my defence."

Hob has a suspicion he was talking to the raven and not him. Yet, he answers regardless. "Clearly. Still, I didn't want to be drinking alone here in a hundred years' time."

You look up at Dream who merely smiles.

They part ways. You fly back out the window to meet Dream outside.

He is still smiling when he returns to you.

☆☆☆

1889

Dream walks down the street in his cloak and top hat. You have taken to sitting atop the hat, determined not to let him meet Hob alone in case something happens this time.

"You need not come with me."

You scoff and look down at him. "Um, yes, I do! What if you run into trouble again? I'm telling you, sir, you're kind of hopeless without me."

You think you hear him chuckle, but you're not entirely sure.

He's accosted by a woman singing outside the pub before you can even ask him. You sigh as she tries to flirt with him, knowing full well it won't work. The woman is soon dismissed by Hob, who appears behind her.

"Sorry about Lushing Lou."

Dream steps into the pub. Hob takes note of you on his hat.

"You, uh... you have a raven nesting on your hat."

"I'm aware." Dream replies.

"That bird... it can't be, can it?" Hob takes a closer look at you. "That was the bird that from last time with Constantine."

"Sure is," you say, cawing at him.

Hob looks absolutely flabbergasted. "It talks!"

"She does," Dream confirms. "She is my raven."

You caw again.

Dream removes his hat from his head, and you sit on his shoulder instead. They two sit down, though Hob can't stop looking at you.

"Lushing Lou. Is that what they call her?" Dream decides to change the subject.

Hob takes a moment to answer him back, still trying to grasp the talking bird.

"Well, in here, they call her "the hospital.""

"Why?"

"Because she's in 'em a great deal, and because she's sent so many men into 'em. No idea what her real name is."

"Louise Baldwin," Dream tells him. "Her father was in the British army. Her cousin raped, impregnated, and deserted her when she was just a child."

"How do you know all that?" Hob asks.

Dream has never once told this man who he is. He never explained anything.

Dream still does not answer him.

"Your cup is empty. You need more wine."

You chuckle. Hob glances between the two of you.

"You knew Lady Johanna. You know Lushing Lou. You know everyone, don't you?" Hob asks.

"I saw her again, you know."

"Who? Lady Johanna?"

"She undertook a task for me and succeeded admirably, I might add."

"That might be the only thing I've learned after 500 years." Hob smiles. "People are almost always better than you think they are. Not me, though. Still the same as ever."

"I think perhaps you've changed."

"Well, I may have learnt a bit from my mistakes. But, uh... doesn't seem to stop me from making them."

They both smile.

"I think it's you that's changed." Hob says to him. You look at Dream curiously.

"How so?"

"I think I know why we still meet here, century after century. It's not because you want to see whether or not I'm ready to seek death. I don't think I'll ever seek death. By now, you know that about me. So, I think you're here for something else."

The silence from Dream made you uncomfortable. He was generally a quiet person, but this... this was something else. He didn't look pleased.

"Dream?" You called softly.

He doesn't look at you. He keeps his eyes trained on Hob.

"And what might that be?"

"Friendship. I think you're lonely."

"You dare..."

"No, look, I'm not saying-"

"You... dare suggest one such as I might need your companionship."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Dream stands. You remain seated on his shoulder.

"Then I shall take my leave of you and prove you wrong."

Hob stands.

Dream marches out of the pub. You take flight, soaring above him once you're outside. It's raining, but you don't mind.

Hob chases after him.

You hear him say that if they meet again in a hundred years, it will be because they're friends.

Dream doesn't not answer him.

☆☆☆

By 1989, Dream is locked up in the basement of the Burgess house, and you are dead. Well, as far as Dream knows you're dead.

You're actually back in the Dreaming getting used to your new human form.

Hob isn't even a thought after everything that's gone on.

Hob Gadling sits in the bar alone.

Dream did not come.

☆☆☆

You stand with your arm still looped with Dream's standing at a fence. The pub had shut down. You turn and look at Morpheus.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" He asks, his voice as gentle as always.

"About this."

"It is not your fault. This place wasn't going to last forever."

"I suppose not..."

Dream looks at the fence and sees the red paint. The New Inn. He looks at the line, which goes along the fence and around the corner.

He starts to lead you down that way.

"Where are we going?" You ask, following him. Your arm was still looped with his, so you had no choice.

"For a drink."

Dream leads you to another building. The New Inn. You smile as you realise what that sign meant. It was a message.

Morpheus leads you inside.

There he sits. Hob Gadling is marking some papers in front of him. Slowly, he lifts his head, and his eyes meet Dream's. He smiles.

"You're late."

Morpheus smiles, too. "It seems I owe you an apology. I've always heard it impolite to keep one's friends waiting."

They smile at each other still.

Morpheus pulls up a chair for you, holding it until you're sat, and then sits beside you. You look between him and Hob, who is staring at you.

"And who's this beautiful soul?" Hob asks, smiling at you.

You feel shy again.

"This is my raven." Dream says, smiling.

"Your... raven?" Hob is suddenly struck with the memory of the talking bird. "So I did not dream the raven."

You chuckle. "Hello, Hob."

"You're not a bird."

"I am sometimes. Not today."

Hob chuckles and then glances at Dream. "I hope he's looking after you."

"It's me who looks after him." You say.

"Oh, that I believe." Hob laughs.

"Hey." Dream looks at you. He is amused, you can tell.

You laugh. Hob laughs. Dream gives in and chuckles.

Hob orders you a drink, but you dare not touch it. Human things are still new to you. However, you listen to his stories.

And you feel Dream hold your hand.

☆☆☆

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