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asteroshearts · 4 months

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My Type

Oh no! Nanami's wife is just Itadori's type!

Or the story of how, upon meeting Nanami's wife, Itadori just can't take his eyes off her.

Nanami x Reader

Tags: this story was referenced here, but can be read completely alone, she/her pronouns, discussions of body types, Itadori's a bit of a pervert here (but he doesn't actually see anything!! Nanami, however, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)), typical anime flashing

Hey Ken: How are you feeling?

You: Like shit My fever got worse after you left

Hey Ken: I'll be home soon. Please take ibuprofen, drink lots of water, and rest as much as you can. I'm finishing up now.

You: I just checked our cabinet We ran out of Bufferin UGHHHH I feel terrible I fucking told Daiki from accounting that he should go home if he was coughing but he said it was fine AND COUGHED IN MY FACE And now look at me

Hey Ken: We're out? I'll pick some up on my way home while I grab our other groceries. Please wait for me until then. Take a nap if you can. You're just going to get more exhausted thinking of the idiots in your office.

You: I looked online, delivery is going to take over an hour I'm getting dizzier I don't want to wait I'm going to go to the Matsukiyo near us to get it myself

Hey Ken: What?

Hey Ken: Don't go. I'll pick it up.

Hey Ken: Darling. Read my messages.

Hey Ken: Pick up the phone.

(10) Missed Calls

Several moments ago…

Itadori already thought that today got off to a weird start.

To begin with, it wasn't Ijichi in the driver's seat to pick him up today, but Nanamin. It also wasn't the Jujutsu Tech standard vehicle, but a nice, sleek, and expensive Porsche.

"W-Woah! Nanamin!" Itadori called then. Eyes wide and bright at the polished paint that glistened in the heavy sunlight. "Nice ride!" he said giddily, running his fingers across the aerodynamic doors. Popping his head up toward Nanami's window, he said, "This must've cost you a fortune!" And he thought that Gojo-sensei spent crazily.

"It was a gift," Nanami flatly said. The boy gaped at him like a fish. But who would just give away a car like this? They had to be really close — or maybe he had saved some rich guy and he thanked Nanamin by giving him a brand new car! The boy's eyes shone. Maybe one day he could get a nice gift like — "Get in." The doors unlocked.

"Hiya, Ijichi-san! Must be nice not driving for once, huh?" While marveling at the car's clean interior, he hopped into the back seat, feeling the leather under his hands and the cool blast of the AC hit his sweaty hair after being in the summer sun.

"Good morning, Itadori-kun," the dark-haired man said with a nervous smile. The car rumbled beneath them as Nanami turned the engine back on. "Nanami-san is surely giving me a nice change of pace — "

"Our duties will not change," Nanami stated, turning the wheel. "Ijichi-san is still required to do his job, as well as you, Itadori-kun. Don't get distracted." The pink-haired boy pouted in the backseat. "It just so happens that I have urgent errands to run after this, so time is of the essence."

Turning into an alleyway, Nanami smoothly hit the brakes and put the car into park. "Let's go."

Luckily for him, the curse was a low-level one mostly used for teaching Itadori the ropes, and the two of them managed to exorcise it in record time. For someone who was just thrust into the world of curses several weeks ago, he was doing well. As well as anyone could in his situation.

The boy was still a bumbling newbie, but he had a good head on his shoulders and was a strong opponent for most curses that they dealt with on a daily basis. Lips twitching into a frown, the blond thought that if Gojo didn't poison the youth's mind, surely Yuji would continue having a nice and mature head on his shoulders.

Nanami had to drop Ijichi off at his next assignment, but other than that, all he needed was to drop Itadori off at the college and then he could return to his sick wife. Paperwork still needed to be done, but luckily he could finish that at a later time. Unfortunately, last night you had a major headache and showed signs of an upcoming sickness this morning.

He had just barely convinced you to not do remote work and just take the day off to rest instead. However, as he checked on his messages with you, he found out that you were insisting on double — no, triple mask to go to the pharmacy yourself. All while you had a 37.5-degree fever.

He tried to call you once, thrice, and all of them were left for voicemail.

Cursing inwardly, Nanami leaned his head back on the headrest. Normally, the blond man was the arbiter of restraint and level-headed thinking, but all of that went out the door at the mere thought of his sickly wife dragging herself out in the street to get some medication. Why did you have to be so stubborn?

"My apologies, Itadori-kun." Nanami pushed up his glasses. "I need to take a detour before I drop you off at your dorm. I apologize for the inconvenience."

The boy blinked owlishly. "Oh that's alri — GH!"

Without another word, Nanami quickly turned left, jolting the teen to the side from the momentum, increasing the speed of his vehicle, and raced down the streets.

Within five minutes, Itadori felt like a dog left in the car as his "owner" raced into the nearest grocery store to grab medication, vegetables, and grains for the upcoming, proverbial storm. Even as the cashier tried their hardest to ignore the intense stare of the tall blond man before them, every second that ticked by as they scanned his purchase felt like hours.

As soon as he nearly threw his money on the tray and took all of the grocery bags under his toned arms, Nanami was off again, shifting into drive and ignoring the speed limit all the way back home.

Nanami could've nearly run into his apartment's chain-link garage doors if it had lifted any slower, allowing him access to his own underground parking before he landed in his designated parking spot within three seconds.

Racing out the car, he took all of the grocery bags over one muscular arm and was prepared to run off until he remembered he had a teen in the backseat.

"Itadori-kun," he said hurriedly. "Can you — " The man stopped himself short.

He originally planned to tell the boy to wait for him in the car, but caught sight of the boy's skin gleaming with sweat, reflecting one of the garage's low lights. Summer was brutal right now, with insane humidity that made Itadori's hair damp as if he had just taken a dunk in water. Even though the parking garage was cooler than it was outside, it was still unbearably hot, not to mention cruel, if he had forced the teen to just sit here and deal with it. Itadori had already waited in the hot car when he went out to grab groceries, and although he rolled the windows down, suddenly Nanami remembered all of the articles of puppies and toddlers dying in the back of cars during the summer.

Sighing, the man pushed his glasses up. "Behave yourself. Come with me."

"Ken?" Eyes wide, you held the door open. Keys were lifted up in the air in the man's hands, but you had beat him to the chase and opened the door before he managed to get the key in the keyhole. "Oh! I didn't know that you were bringing a guest." Stepping back quickly, you realized another person was standing behind your husband. "If I had known, I would've worn a surgeon mask!" Alert, you said. "Hold on, I'll go grab one right now — !"

"No need. We'll make this fast." He was about to take a step forward, but then realized that the student hadn't moved an inch ever since you opened the door. "Itadori-kun?"

As still as a statue, pink slowly rose from the boy's neck all the way up to the tips of his ears. He couldn't rip his gaze from you for even a second. Although your hair wasn't done and your face was covered, he could tell just how beautiful you were.

Furthermore, you looked just like the pin-up models he had in his room — you were just his type! Your little chemise barely ended at the middle of your thigh, and although everything important was covered up, it left little to the imagination with how the fabric hugged your waist and hips. As you held the door open for them and leaned forward, the loose triangle top of your nightgown was teasing him with the exposed curves and valleys of your chest.

You were too hot!

"Itadori-kun," Nanami repeated, irritated.

Way too hot for Nanamin!

"Nanamin! You didn't tell me that you were married!" Eyes nearly bugging out of their sockets, Itadori almost thought they had gotten the wrong apartment when you had just opened the door. While his mentor was an attractive man, it was like a mountain and a molehill to the teenager. Not to mention that this strict and serious ex-salaryman was hitched! To a babe no less!

Certainly, you didn't marry for personality!

He couldn't imagine what your daily life was like while Nanamin talked about doing the bare minimum and never smiled.

Raising an eyebrow, Nanami followed Itadori's stare to your state of dress. You weren't even wearing your indoor slippers, and you were absolutely breathtaking even if you had a dark clay mask over your face. He wasn't an idiot, and he could feel his blood vessels pumping harshly. Trying to remind himself with mantras of how Itadori was just a stupid, hormonal teenager, and you could dress how you wanted, and that he especially couldn't beat up Itadori. Pinching his nose bridge, the man couldn't even look at the boy. "My personal life and my work life are completely separate. I wouldn't anno — !"

"But you don't even wear a wedding ring!" Itadori insisted.

"Why would I wear my rings when my daily job involves fighting and getting messy?" Nanami rhetorically asked, stepping through your door with all the groceries in one go. "Wedding and engagement rings are investments, and I'd be damned if I lose my rings and be forced to inflate the wedding ring industry any more than I already have."

Grinning, you beamed at Itadori. Only you really know how seriously Nanami took the "three month's salary on rings" tradition, especially on his sorcerer's salary. "Now you know, Itadori-kun! If you catch him committing adultery while he's out without his ring, you'll shank him for me, right?" Placing both of your hands on your husband's waist, you laughed when you playfully tried to shake him. Of course, that didn't do much. Your man continued to stand there like a stone statue, as if you tried to rock a brick wall while he remained wholly unamused.

From your weak roughhousing, all that managed to do was drop your spaghetti strap from your shoulder. With your dress threatening to slip, Nanami sighed and quickly stood in front of you, blocking your body from Itadori's gaze. He carefully and slowly pulled your shoulder strap back up your body before you managed to flash the poor teen. When you looked up, his brown eyes met with yours.

Gently rubbing your bare shoulder with his large hand, he asked, "I thought you said you were going to Matsukiyo?"

"I was," you rasped out, voice raw from all the coughing you did. "But then I took one step outside and it was too damn hot." Laughing weakly, you said, "I slunk back like a vampire the second the humidity hit me."

The man sighed deeply, and his shoulders dropped in relief and exhaustion. While he ran around like a chicken with its head cut off from worry, he was glad that you ended up not going out after all.

"Why didn't you pick up my calls?" he said deeply, leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath on your ear.

"I was making okayu with kombu," you explained. "Sorry," you said genuinely, "that's all I managed to make for our dinner today."

"I'm upset that you cooked in the first place," Nanami scolded. "You should be resting. I said I'd take care of it. Why were you in the kitchen when the hot fumes could make your fever even worse?" Turning away from his nagging, you pouted.

"I'm hungry though…" you mumbled, far too much like a spoiled child, and Nanami was sure, in some way, that you were spoiled, of his making too. He always prioritized you and let you have your way. "And I already ate the miyeok guk you made."

"You could've ordered delivery," the man countered.

"Nothing interested me there."

Inhaling deeply once more, Nanami tried to calm the upcoming headache he felt. There was no point in arguing with you, not when you were coughing and sick like this. "Stay here. I'm going to whip up a bowl of okayu to have with your medicine," the man ordered before he picked up a blanket you had draped over one of your couches and wrapped you in it like a burrito. When you opened your mouth, your husband only sternly repeated, "Stay."

Playfully rolling your eyes when he left to go to the kitchen, you puffed out your cheeks in mock irritation. Closing the door to your apartment so the AC couldn't escape anymore, you turned to the teen who was standing awkwardly in your home.

"Aw I'm sorry," you said, voice sounding like sandpaper again. "You know, Kento's kinda strict, but I assure you he's a good man," you said gently. "Thank you so much for taking care of him."

"M-Me?" Itadori sputtered. "I'm not the one taking care of him! He takes care of me! Um…" The boy grew demure when he realized he had no way to address you.

"Oh," you realized you didn't introduce yourself. "I apologize! I totally forgot! I know you since Ken talks about you and Ino all the time, but I didn't realize you didn't know me!"

Itadori gasped. "He talks about me?!"

"Of course! All good things!" you assured. "Even though Kento seems like a meanie, he's a genuine person and wouldn't exaggerate, so he wouldn't praise you unless he absolutely meant it." You knew that this was the teen that hosted Sukuna, the King of Curses. It was a heavy burden for someone who wasn't even an adult yet, and your heart grew heavy at the thought of this boy's fate.

"Before I forget…" Quickly, you ran to your bathroom and cleaned off your clay face mask before you returned with your bare face wet and a cloth Pompompurin headband keeping your hair out of the way. "I need to introduce myself."

Now Itadori was sure that you two were married with the way you introduced yourself nearly identically to your husband. With your back straight and shoulders squared, hands flat, and arms straight at your side, you closed your eyes and bowed.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Itadori-kun." You acquired your business card out of thin air and held it out for the boy. "My name is Nanami [Name], and I'm a senior project manager at Yurukawa Corp. If you or your friends ever get tired of exorcising curses and want to look into engineering, you can ask me!"

Huh?

It was too silent.

When you rose and looked up, you realized that your husband had suddenly materialized out of nowhere. Standing in between you and Itadori, your husband's stern expression could freeze hell over as he stared down at Itadori with a frown, arm outstretched and his hand held up — right where Itadori's eyes would've seen your cleavage when you bent over to bow.

"Itadori-kun."

"Y-Yes!"

"We are going. Now."

The car was completely silent the entire way to the dorm rooms. Quickly shifting the car into park, Itadori jumped at the sudden stop.

No one said a word. The entire ride felt like the air was heavy enough to drown in.

"Itadori-kun." Nanami's eyes were hidden by the reflection in his glasses.

"…Yes?" the boy squeaked out, pressing his index fingers together.

"Never ogle my wife again."

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk nanami #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami

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stsgluver · 4 months

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synopsis. zenin naoya and his lack of respect for women. [part of the dynasty series]

wc. 970

tags/warnings. rich boy!gojo, idk what else, zenin naoya exists, established relationship

a/n. i switch between present and past (like five mins prior) throughout BUT IF IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE PLS LET ME KNOW. this has been sat in drafts for 2 months.

“i wouldn’t have stopped you from punching him.”

gojo scoffed, pushing his hands through his hair frustratedly. the two of you sat together on the cold stone steps outside of some large historic building.

“i don’t think i would’ve stopped,” he let out a ragged breath and you rested one of your hands on his knee. his fingers naturally came to intertwine with yours and you think you saw his shoulders relax ever so slightly at the contact.

a silence settled between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. your boyfriend was reliving the last hour and you were doing your best to try and forget it.

“is he always like that?” you asked quietly. the he in question being zen’in naoya.

this was the first event that you had attended with gojo, and the first event gojo had ever attended with an actual date. he’d always turned down all of the girls his father offered to him (the children of other tech ceo’s that his father was encouraging him to get close to only for the benefit of his own bank account) and he’d never had a real girlfriend to bring prior to you.

“unfortunately,” he hummed quietly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles lightly. you shivered from the cool breeze and dared to shuffle closer to him.

you’d experienced many sides of gojo since you’d begun your relationship, but never had you seen him so irritated that he couldn’t verbally communicate it. he was the one who annoyed people to the brink of insanity, with his cocky remarks and over-the-top, excitable behaviour. few people had ever tried to one up him, and even fewer were successful in managing to get under his skin.

zenin naoya, though, loved the challenge.

“do you think your dad will mind if we’re out here?” you asked tentatively. gojo’s hand reflexively tightened briefly around yours at the mention of his father, his jaw clenching.

several minutes after gojo had led you inside the elegant infrastructure (to say you were getting imposter syndrome was an understatement), he’d left you by a confectionery stand in search of geto. according to him, you looked ‘too pretty’ and he didn’t want your dress to be ruined in the crowds. in other words, the less you mingled, the less likely you’d be harassed by his father’s rich peers – he’d already ‘accidentally’ knocked one drink over onto a woman who dared to hiss the word ‘gold digger’ under her breath as you passed.

it had to have been less than thirty seconds before the zenin appeared by your side, a sickening smirk on his twisted face. you knew who he was, you’d seen him once or twice around campus and you’d heard the stories, but you’d never been this close to him; not close enough to breath in the expensive cologne that smellt cheap.

“probably,” he clicked his tongue, tilting his head back to look up at the night sky. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have brought you here.”

you nudged his shoulder gently, “i wanted to come.”

a mistake on both of your behalf – though neither of you could have predicted that naoya would try and make a scene when you rejected his advances.

"you two alright?"

both of you turned your heads back to see geto coming down the stairs towards you with a little skip in his step.

once naoya had your attention he wasted no time getting to his point – bigging up his status and telling you how gojo’s dad was doubting gojo’s position in the company. if you wanted a real man, in his words, you needed him.

obviously, you’d given him a disgusted look without much thought and denied the offer, taking a step back to try and find your tall, white haired boyfriend in the crowd (an oddly difficult task). you figured you were safer weaving through a crowd of high society snobs than you were spending another minute here. naoya, though, was persistent and didn’t hesitate to pull you back towards him with a harsh grip.

"just trying not to bash that zen'in's skull in," gojo muttered as he gently traced the red marks on your wrist. it looked worse than it felt – the pain had dissipated pretty quickly once you’d broken from naoya’s hold.

"i could get on board with that," the dark haired male dropped down next to you on the stairs, stretching out his legs and smoothing down his pants.

"geto.”

you figured out pretty quickly that gojo and geto were a package deal. best friends since diapers and equally as resentful to their parents’ ways of life and the pretence they’ve been raised in. two sides of the same coin, both of which willing to go extraordinary lengths for the other with no regard for consequences.

such as the jail time that would come with the aggravated assault of naoya.

though you would give it to geto – when gojo and him got to you and naoya, it was him who was ushering gojo to just take you outside, not to engage with the spoiled man child.

“geto,” geto mocked you with a grin, shrugging carelessly, "the kid’s an ass. he’s got it coming."

there was no more than a second until geto spoke up again, with an idea you were sure he’d had from the beginning of the night, his plans had just been accelerated: “shoko’s house is free now. her parents are away so she wasn’t forced to attend this bullshit,”

gojo’s head perked up at this, looking above your head at his best friend, “you think she’ll have the stuff for a smoke?”

“it’s ieiri,” you said in a ‘duh’ tone because when was she not smoking something. how she was top of her classes, you’d never know.

“god bless that girl,” geto blew a kiss to the sky.

taglist. @hyori2 @ja-zz @animeflower26 @jar-03

#dynasty #rich boy!au #rich boy!gojo #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo drabbles #gojo fluff #gojo imagines

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moxiemozze · 1 month

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BroZone designs + trollsona doodle

Some Headcanons vvv :D

John Dory:

• he’s aroace

• he should be grey but is basically repressing his depression so he has grey splotches in some areas, he tries to keep it hidden from his brothers but he also doesn’t like seeing it

•tells a different story every time you ask about a scar you never know which one is real

•got his first grey hair at 15 because of stress and got two more when he was 17 a week before the band broke up

• #1 OCD haver

•ambidextrous

•thought all his brothers were dead

Bruce:

•transgender, he thought he was a lesbian for a while, turns out he likes girls but not when he’s one

•him and brandy are t4t

• Beach Rock and Pop, like Elvis style music I forget the name

•I know his kids have canon names but I think he named them after drinks besides Bruce Jr.

•used to be a terrible cook

•Bruce has a tail but it’s very short and hidden by his hair

Clay:

•Aromantic

•he’s in a platonic relationship with Viva

•he has a huge scar on his chest from the burgen escape but hides it with his sweater romper

•has had a cataracts since birth (just like me fr) and had these huge nerd glasses as a kid but didn’t wear them anymore once the band got popular

Floyd:

•MLM and trans

•PopPunk

•Saw JD at a bar once in his early 20’s, blinked and he was gone. He didn’t drink for the rest of the night

•has gone grey multiple times, but because he wasn’t grey as long as Branch his mood doesn’t affect his colors but it did affect his ears

•has severe joint pain in his wrist and his leg, needs a cane to walk around on good days

• has the same hair texture as Clay but straightens it

•says he thinks his hair is cool now

Branch:

•transgender and bi

•Pop but loves every style of music

•looks the most like his mom

•didn’t take care of his hair when grey had to learn how to take care of it with Poppy

•he did his top surgery himself and that’s why it looks so botched

•he had a crush on creek for about a week then decided to hate him after seeing him being his typical asshole self

•has so many nicknames from poppy and his brothers, his secret favorite is twig

Branch color variants

I almost forgot to add the obligatory creek hate photo

#trolls band together #trolls fanart #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls branch #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls creek #trolls sona

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tastesousweet · 3 months

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⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iii) - pt 1 pt 2

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : no one frustrates and confuses y/n more than matt

warnings : smoking weed, alcohol/drinking (i headcannon everyone 21+!), tension, sexually suggestive

mickey speaks : THIS IS LONG AS SHIT!!!! ngl im not obsessed w this part but u guys r the sweetest thank u for loving this story so far and for ur patience. part 4 definitely won't have as long of a wait.

THIS IS PART THREE GO READ THE FIRST TWO PARTS NEOWW

MATT hates hosting parties.

now that he and his brothers have hosted three of these "get together"s to promote the warehouse, he’s realized just how much attendees dont give a shit about respecting the space they're in. he found it to be a cool concept for sure: give out free tiny tats along with food and drinks for more exposure and networking. nick came up with it and it sounded perfectly easy way to build their brand and get to know people in LA.

except the first one was a complete mess, with chris constantly promoting the party (he mentioned it to almost everyone he talked to, encouraging them to bring friends along), frequent instagram posts dedicated to the event, and natural word of mouth the warehouse was suddenly overcrowded and trashed within the first hour of being open. matt barely got through that night without losing his temper or calling the cops to shut down his own party.

that’s not to say matt hates attending parties as severely as he hates to have his own. he’s more than willing to go out when he has a set time to leave and good enough company. he’s trained his anxiety to behave within those spaces so that he's not ruining his or anyone else's time. now it seems his anxiety only spikes when it comes to (what feels like) hundreds of people surrounding him in his space with no intentions of leaving until well into the morning. at that point he’d prefer to be at home, completely alone.

just as he does now that nick has dragged him out to a nearby liquor store to buy “goodies” for the event later today.

matt’s face carries his typical dry expression as nick stands next to him, hands resting on his hips, eyeing the various vodka bottles.

“nick, it’s alcohol not the fucking newspaper,” matt grumbles.

“i know that! i just don’t wanna choose the wrong one.” he defends.

“if they don’t like something i think we have more than enough to choose from at this point,” matt sarcastically nudges his arms that hold onto a wide selection of alcohol that nick has impetuously given him with quips of ‘okay, hold this one.’

“matt, i wouldn’t have brought you if i knew you’d be such a buzzkill, jesus.” nicks tsks.

“alright, don't say that like i was begging to come here, nick. i had no choice and-"

nick cuts him off swiftly, noticing a few girls have joined them in the aisle, “matt, move." nick guides him backwards with his hand, "you’re like, in the way.”

matt turns his head to see what exactly he was blocking, before turning back to nick and scowling, “‘m literally not in the way at all.”

“they might need to see all the options,” nick shrugs, going back to narrowing his options down while matt stands in slight annoyance, zoning out.

until he overhears the two girls call, “yeah it’s over here, y/n! come!”

and matt can’t help but turn and look (at an embarrassingly quick pace that he’d blame on his brain's pristine sound recognition and not that he wanted to see you, necessarily).

and sure enough your frame comes into view (clad in a sweatshirt and small pair of shorts), confirming that he did not mishear and you unfortunately were in fact the y/n called for. not wanting to deal with small talk, he immediately turns to nick, “the second one is best, nick. alright, let’s go.”

nick looks over to him, throwing his hands up loosely, “ohh, now you wanna be helpful whe-" he closes his mouth when he sees you over matt's shoulder, "did you know y/n's here?” his eyebrows draw together and he swiftly grabs a tall bottle of Absolut and places it in matt’s arms before walking around him (ignoring his hand’s poor attempt to hold nick back).

you’re too busy discussing which vodka tastes best with a few of your friends to notice nick walking up to you guys. you only look over once you hear a snap followed by a hushed “matt!”

you host a tender smile when you recognize the two tattooed boys, “nick? what are you doing here?” you glance from nick to matt who seems to be holding a full bar's worth of liquor while nick holds nothing but a tote bag and sunglasses he enjoys fidgeting with.

“y/n, i have a party i’m hosting tonight why would i not be here? now the real question is why are you here at 11:30 AM?” he jokes, squinting his eyes at you.

“same reason as you,” you shrug then realize you haven’t introduced your friends properly. “oh! and these are my friends; i texted you about bringing along, remi, erin, and andrea.” they each wave slightly as you gesture to them.

after an exchange of greetings and smiles (though you could tell matt’s was so phoney), nick backtracks, “okay but actually why are you here?”

“did you think i was joking? i’m getting drinks for your party!”

“i mean this in the kindest way possible: why?”

“i wasn’t gonna show up empty handed! it’s common courtesy to bring you guys something whether or not you ask.” you insist and matt fights the urge to roll his eyes.

he knows you have no mal-intent but god damn do you make yourself look so fucking pretentious.

“yeah, we’re trying to figure out what would be the best kind to bring right now,” erin chimes in.

nick immediately agrees, “oh my god, tell me about it. i was just struggling with that too!” and he turns to matt to validate, see! it’s not stupid to care about possibly buying the wrong thing!

matt just rolls his lips into his mouth, trying to give anyone a fucking clue that the conversation should be wrapping up by now.

“we’ll probably just end up getting pink whitney,” andrea reaches for the bottle on a nearby shelf.

matt can feel your eyes on him but he chooses to keep looking down at nick's ugg boots as if they’re the most interesting thing he’s seen.

you shift your eyes back to nick who’s still talking to andrea before you begin to speak, “well, i’m sure you guys are busy, you know, party planning.”

suprisingly, matt speaks up to agree with you, "yeah, you’re right actually. we are pretty busy."

nick cuts in with a shake of his head, “well, we’re actually not doing much before the party starts, honestly. we’ll probably just drop this off at the warehouse and set up a little, then go home, right matt?” nick shrugs to his brother who's eyes only widen with a look of question, “oh that's so true, matt!" he turns back to the girls with a smirk, "if you guys want you should come hang out with us now!”

matt wishes he currently had a free hand so that he could slap it over nicks mouth and drag him away before he sells his own kidney next.

"oh that's okay, we still have some stuff at home to do before we even think to get ready, but we'll be there tonight," you smile and look over to the girls who each agree.

"okay, we'll see you around then." matt tilts his head to the side encouraging nick to follow as he walks away.

"you have my insta so just dm me if you need anything. okay, bye! don’t forget swimsuits!" nick smiles and waves before rushing to catch up to matt who has already left the aisle.

౨ৎ

“i still can’t believe y/n was there, like what are the odds?!” nick giddily sighs and looks over to matt as the two walk out of the store.

“yeah, how fuckin’ weird," he murmurs, adjusting the brown bags in his hands to reach for the keys hanging from his belt loop. "small world, i guess.”

౨ৎ

“how the fuck are you so calm?” you ask in shock from behind the bat squishmellow you hold while sitting on nick’s baby pink couch, legs crossed.

“y/n, it’s like the teeniest, babiest tattoo ever,” andrea almost laughs as she takes another bite of a miniature rice krispy treat.

this “get together” at the warehouse has been a hit as far as you can tell. when you and your friends arrived it was already rowdy with people everywhere, music pounding, and bottles of alcohol scattered on the counters of a kitchenette (where you placed your own bottle of pink whitney, tied with a dainty white ribbon). you all found nick early on dancing in a crowd of people. he gave out hugs and easily convinced andrea and remi to let him tattoo them. after looking over the flash sheet nick made specifically for tonight, the girls decided to get matching cherry tattoos.

nick’s work area was so soft. he had bright hues of berry hugging his walls in the form of posters and paintings and faint creamsicle colored pillows to keep his couch company. when you all first walked in he explained how much he enjoys when clients bring in a friend so he had to make sure they had a comfy place to sit. you found nick so endearing in that since, he’s very caring and thoughtful despite his attitude at times (a far more understandable attitude than matt’s).

“it’s soo small,” nick adds, “i still think you two should get one,” he smirks looking over to you and erin huddled on the couch.

“hell no, i think i'm good for like another year," you shake your head and look over to erin while you gently run your fingers over your tattooed lower hip.

"yeah, absolutely not. i'm not even close to drunk enough to do that shit right now." she laughs.

౨ৎ

matt finds joint rolling to be the most satisfying part of smoking. the precision needed to perfectly fill, wrap, and burn makes him giddy in his own matt-kind-of-way.

after working on his last client (who wanted a somewhat abstract piece for the lowkey means of a “free tiny tats event”) and successfully sneaking through the crowd to grab a snack then sneaking back into his work area, he wanted nothing more than to get high alone.

he begins to gather his spare weed, grinder, and rolling papers from a spot tucked away in a drawer. he stops by his desk to turn his speaker back on, playing hushed kendrick lamar thorughout the space.

he taps his fingers along to the beat before sitting in a chair and displaying the items in front of him. he begins to grind the weed while humming, only to be interrupted fairly quickly.

"matttt!" chris peeks his grinning face through the curtain before taking it upon himself to walk in, "what are you doin' all alone in here?" matt pauses his movements with a sigh.

"no way you were rolling up and not planning to share? what the fuck?" chris pries in jest, rolling a chair over to sit in front of matt.

"dude, 'm so over this fuckin' party. i was planning to just smoke this and go nap on nick's couch or something." matt explains as he carefully lays the weed in the paper.

"you were barely even out there! got all your clients to text you whenever they got here." chris mumbles a scoff. "that is not the fuckin' point of this by the way, supposed to be meeting new people." chris rolls his eyes leaning himself so far into the chair that his back has practically met the seat.

"at least i'm doing something, you've only given like a tat or two all night," matt mumbles, slowly filling the white paper with weed.

because chris knows he's right he deflects the conversation to the reason he even came searching for matt in the first place. he clears his throat, playing with his fingers, "nick wants to take the girls up to the hot tub."

"thought we weren't allowing randoms up there anymore?" matt smirks at the memory of nick just hours before lecturing the both of them on what ground rules needed to be set so people don't demolish their shop for the fourth time now.

"obviously if they're with nick they're not just randoms." chris shakes his head, "pretty sure it's y/n and some friends she brought along. you remember that girl, right? she was-"

matt stops sealing the blunt to respond, "uh huh, i remember her."

chris lets out a breath, causing matt to finally look up and make eye contact with his brother (after spending their entire conversation too focused on rolling) in surprise at his pause in speaking.

"yeah, she's cool." chris yawns.

"i guess." matt says while finishing off the joint.

matt then lifts his hand up to give chris a view of his rolled joint. "stellar." chris smiles and matt hands it him, "swear you have a gift for this shit or somethin'." chris holds it in different angles near his face.

matt just shrugs and reaches for the tiny red lighter in his back pocket, "light that bitch up," he encourages chris.

"wait, no, let's save it for hot-tubbing."

"no? let's not? i didn't roll it for anyone but myself, let alone a group of barbies."

"be nice, matt."

"give me it, chris," matt rolls his eyes and signals with his fingers for chris to hand it over. “also who says i’m joining you guys in there?”

chris hands the joint back over to matt who’s immediately putting it in his mouth and bringing it towards the lighter’s flame, “nick wants the both of us up there, he thinks it’ll be fun.”

matt’s words come out quieter now that he’s speaking with smoke held in his lungs, “is he shit faced?” matt exhales the smoke as he speaks, “you know he thinks anything is ‘fun’ when he’s drunk.”

he takes another hit while chris explains, “no he’s actually really fuckin’ coherent, hasn’t had anything compared to me.” he smirks knowingly.

“not too much of this for you then,” matt exhales and passes the blunt over to chris. “so who’s gonna be hosting this party if we’re all on the roof?” matt asks squinting at him while playing with the soft edge of his graphic tee shirt.

chris’ face hides behind the smoke he releases, “we have dontae and claire working tonight too, they know how to deal with shit. i’m not too worried.”

“cool, so nick has contradicted himself twice already tonight, what happened to ‘one of us three should always be keeping an eye out’?” matt questions.

chris shakes his head, handing matt the smoked down joint, “literally how am i supposed to know why that kid thinks the way he does?”

matt licks his lips with a smile at his brothers comment then goes to hit the blunt once more.

“but i do know you need trunks on asap, brother.” chris lifts himself up, feeling a little looser now that he’s quite faded, and begins to dig through matt’s backpack in the corner of the room.

“why the fuck are my trunks just casually in my bag?”

“i put ‘em in there knowing you wouldn’t listen when we told you to pack them.”

“because i’m never getting in the pool at a party, that sounds terrible.”

“you think everything sounds terrible,” chris rolls his eyes throwing the plain black swimming trunks at matt’s chest.

౨ৎ

“‘kay so the game is just called, “i dare you…” but we’re gonna play it like drink or dare,” chris explains before taking another sip of his pepsi (he’s attempting to ‘sober up’ before playing a drinking game). “assuming the crowd knows what drink or dare is..?” chris looks around to everyone to confirm. there’s quite a lot of people in the spacious hot tub: you and your friends, the triplets, asha, and two of the triplets’ friends nathan and cameron.

when everyone nods in understanding chris explains something about the order to follow and how to discard any used cards, but you only loosely pay attention. instead, your eyes keep an unfaltering stare on matt who sits across from you with the shadows of his face highlighted light blue from the water below and a warm amber from the outdoor lighting above.

he wears his hair messy and his signature silver chain that reflects in the water harshly. you find yourself focusing on his tattooed hands (large in proportion to the joint he’s just finished rolling), and his pink tongue that has slipped out a number of times to lick at the joint and secure its shape.

he’s so into his own task he hasn’t even acknowledged your presence really. somehow that bothers you and attracts you to him at the same time. his face is so neutral as well, it’s not easy to find matt without a resting bitch face and an foul mood to match.

you feel andrea’s hand guide up your back, carrying water in its trail. you still continue in your curious trance until she leans down to your ear, “don’t start drooling now.”

you immediately look up towards her (as she’s sat on the ledge of the hot tub, cautious of her new arm tattoo). she barks out a laugh and you try not to laugh as well, punching the side of her leg instead.

“what did i miss? what are we giggling aboutt?!” nick excitedly asks as he climbs into the hot tub and sits in the empty spot to the left of you. you turn and greet him with a smile and he immediately hands you one of the many beer bottles he holds, “here, take one, pass it down.”

“oh it was nothing, thank you.” you reply when handed the final bottle.

nick nods before swatting at chris who still stands in the middle of the hot tub, “kid, you can sit down now, i think we all got it.”

chris looks over to nick, “you go first then, nick. i’ll queue up a few songs.” he shifts a floaty that holds a set of cards in it towards nick before taking a seat next to erin (you can overhear him introducing himself even though your attention is on nick as he draws).

“who’s the bright one who chose a game with cards to be done in water?” nick jokes finally looking at the card.

“i’m sure you can guess,” asha laughs next to him.

you watch as nick’s face welcomes a large grin upon reading his dare. “okay…i’m reading this out loud, right?”

“i thought ‘we all got it’?” chris jokes and watches nick deadpan, “yes, nick just say it.”

“this one’s easy, ‘i dare you to make one of the group members crack a smile in less than a minute.’” nick adjusts himself to face nathan, “nate look at me.”

“oh come on nick, nate laughs at everything when he’s drunk.” matt talks despite his lips closing over the joint he’s just about to light.

“i don’t!” nate says before looking over to cameron, who elbows his side, making nathan giggle and cover his face. “no! for real, try me nick.” he adjusts his expression to be serious but just as nick opens his mouth to speak nathan explodes in sudden laughter causing the rest of the group to laugh as well.

even matt laughs into his arm as he passes the joint to remi, next to him.

౨ৎ

as the group continued playing the dares leveled in dirty extremity. asha nibbled on cameron’s ear like a hamster, nathan texted a friend asking to have a threesome, cameron licked sugar off of andrea (who very much enjoyed it), until finally it was matt’s turn.

matt’s been far more sociable and charismatic this entire time spent in the hot tub than you’ve seen him before. but you can’t tell if it’s the weed and alcohol or even just the fact that he’s surrounded by a group with some of his close friends that’s bringing this out of him. you’re shocked the only nagging he’s done was to break up a small argument between his brothers and of course make fun of you, mouthing “you scared?” after you denied hitting the joint for a second time. you mouthed back “no” and rolled your eyes at him but his playful smirk never left.

matt hangs his head and stifles laughter after reading his card, “i dare you to bend over backwards and let the rest of the group spank you, chose who’s best.”

“oh my god!” chris’ laugh is higher in pitch now that he’s extremely high.

“guys i really don’t wanna,” he sighs.

“matt, don’t be lame! you’ll be the first one who’s drinking,” asha encourages.

“fuck this game,” he mumbles under his breath before adjusting himself to lean over the hot tub, everyone laughing at the sight. it was fun to see matt so unserious for once.

after taking turns to hit matt’s ass, he decided the fourth person’s was the best, per his dare’s request, and nathan celebrates with a throw of his hands in the air.

remi then performs a trust fall with the person she trusts least in the group, cameron (who she told there was no hard feelings since they’d only met today), making it now erin’s turn.

she blushes at her card before reading aloud, “i dare you to give a lap dance to the hottest person in the group.” she bites her lip in embarrassment but nonetheless leans over to chris and requests a song in his ear.

chris smiles and taps his phone as erin adjust herself to standing. “this is gonna be hard to do in water,” she messes with her hair.

“you’ll be fine!” you encourage with a smile.

“alright, you ready?” chris looks up to erin and she nods in response.

body party by ciara begins to play sensually through the nearby speaker gaining a few “oouuu”s from the group.

what you don’t expect is for erin to lean herself in front of matt. and matt definitely doesn’t expect this either, but he’s not too mad about it.

“oh shitttt,” cameron grins, he and nathan occupied in their own awkward-laughing fit while watching with wide eyes.

she moves slowly and hovers matt in a straddling position to “grind” on him. you take a heavy sip of your drink while watching in an attempt to hide your odd feeling about this. it was like watching a car crash. you watch as matt’s eyes gaze up and down her body, not daring to touch her but unashamed of his attraction.

asha laughs and whistles in support when erin turns around to give matt a view of her ass. nick dramatically ducks behind you yelling, “i actually can’t watch this! oh my god!”

you laugh and to mess with him whisper, “don't worry, it’s over now.”

nick looks back and immediately goes back to covering his eyes and laughing with you, “you bitch!”

you look back to matt who tilts his head back with wide eyes and lips puffing out in humor. and finally, after it feels like the two have dry humped for hours, erin stands back up and bows. matt claps with a wide smile, everyone else joining in.

when erin sits down you look up to andrea who just stifles a laugh with a sip of her drink. “well how the fuck am i gonna top that shit?!” chris exclaims while grabbing a card.

“real question is how the fuck will matt recover from that?” you joke causing matt to look over to you.

“oh don’t worry about me, sweetheart. i’m sure i’ll recover fine. chris,” he lifts his head gesturing for chris to begin his dare.

your tongue travels along your teeth to stop yourself from ruining a good time with your confusing feelings.

“i dare you to give a hickey to the person to your left.” chris bites his bottom lip and blinks slowly before looking over to andrea who just smiles and playfully flutters her fingers at him.

“you’re cool with this right, ‘m not tryna make you uncomfortable or any-”

“chris, shh.” andrea says.

“'kay, where do you want it?” he smiles.

“let’s make this fun,” she adjusts her bikini top and presses her manicured fingers along her right breast, “right here.”

nick is extra dramatic when it comes to watching chris suck harshly on his new friend’s tit, “okay, why the fuck did we choose this game?!” he turns away.

when chris is finished andrea shows it off to the group as proof and pushes chris’ cocky face away with a laugh, “nice job, stupid.”

afterwards, andrea gets a dare to expose her search history with the group, which she does without a problem.

it’s finally your turn to pick a card. “i dare you to lick whipped cream off a person of your choice.”

“oouu who’s it gonna beee?” nick nudges into your side.

you look around the hot tub, wanting to pick someone unpredictable, “ashaaa, you haven’t had much to do yet?” you look over to the girl who now has wide eyes and a growing smile.

“okay, yeah let’s do it,” she shrugs. “nate could you go get whipped cream, please?”

once nathan’s back you move closer to asha and decide to put whipped cream on her shoulder. “it tickles,” she giggles when you lick the entire dollop off of her easily.

you both laugh and you lick your lips as you head back to your seat.

౨ৎ

after another round it’s finally matt’s turn again, he draws a card that reads: give a kiss anywhere, on the person you’d “take home to mama.”

matt slowly stands and rubs his chin with a devious smile. “ummm,” he draws out, giving multiple looks at everyone before he walks over and hovers over you. you’re shocked by your body’s ease when his wet hand lifts to hold your face and his lips connect to yours. the kiss isn’t sloppy, but rather needy. you were just getting used to the taste of the bitter beer he’d just been drinking when he pulls away and steps back, unfazed.

you blink and wipe your fingers around your lips as matt wipes a hand over his eyes while laughing to himself.

“mom, would love y/n,” chris adds, calling back to the initial dare that led to that stomach turning kiss.

“'course she would, she’s a fucking saint.” matt sighs.

you squint your eyes and tilt your head, “i wouldn’t say that…”

“yeah, shit, my bad.” matt spreads his legs across from you, “forgot you have that little tattoo. i’m sure you’re not such a good girl anymore.”

you’re fucking annoyed now. you hate that he thinks you're inferior to him in any way. “hey where’s that ashtray, chris?” you ask, adjusting your seated position.

“uh, here,” he reaches behind him and places it on the same floaty as the cards, along with the lighter.

“you guys are cool to keep going,” you say and take the abandoned joint in your hand to relight it.

matt watches in spiteful anticipation.

“take it slow, and hold it” andrea explains to you in a whisper, knowing you’d never smoked in your life.

erin begins her dare to prank call a customer service line and dirty talk them when you take a hit of the joint.

matt eyes never leave your bothered figure as you inhale and cause the tip of the joint to light a bright red. he can tell you’re trying to prove a point which makes it more amusing to him when your eyes begin to water after you shakily exhale and attempt to hold back a cough.

“don’t hurt yourself.” matt quips under his breath.

౨ৎ

the group hadn’t realized just how long they’d been in the hot tub nor how drunk they all are until they struggled to get out and back to the main floor of the warehouse.

though, lots of giggles and piggyback rides helped them all stay together as they traveled back, cold and still damp. all partygoers were gone at that point, leaving the warehouse empty yet a mess.

nick (being the self-proclaimed good host he is) led the mass of drunk people to the bathrooms and brought extra graphic tee shirts and sweatpants to change into from the many boxes of merch sold in their tattoo shop. the boys had insisted that everyone just sleep at the warehouse due to their abundance of couches and chairs and their fear in sending anyone home in an uber at close to 3 AM.

matt is throwing pieces of trash in a large black trash bag when you step out from the bathroom near the colorful kitchenette of the warehouse.

he glances up when you approach slowly, feeling yourself sobered up quite a bit after peeing and washing your face.

“hey,” his voice is rough in tiredness.

“hey, do you have any water over here?” you ask politely, your lips taste salty when you lick over them.

“in the fridge,” he replies, crumbling wrappers and adding to his bag.

you notice how red and puffy his eyes truly are now that you’re this close to him and in better lighting. you walk past him to get to the fridge, almost completely empty after a long-lasting and full party.

“are you sleeping any time soon?” you ask, opening the water bottle.

“i don’t know.”

“i can always help you clean this if you need me to.”

“‘m good.” he analyzes a glass bottle to decide whether it’s worth keeping.

you nod your head, “cool.”

“you should probably sleep.” matt suggests looking over to you.

“i think i can decide that for myself, thanks.” you drink more of your water.

“you’re right i can only suggest. i’m suggesting you to go to sleep. and if you do stay up i'd suggest you don’t spend your time talking to me.”

you finish off your water and move closer to matt, placing it in the bag. “you truly know how to piss a girl off.”

“it’s my specialty.” he whispers and looks over your face now that you’re so close.

he’s so fucking hot that it genuinely upsets you at this point. you just back up and turn to go find the couch andrea’s decided to sleep on.

“goodnight, sunshine.” he calls after you, going back to his cleaning.

you're not too far away when you hear the bathroom door open and once again matt is greeting someone, only when you look over your shoulder you see erin approaching and matt leaning on the island counter with a smile.

you turn the corner with irritation. and you find yourself in the unfortunate position of having a problematic crush on matt while wanting nothing to do with him at all.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

#this got sillyyyyy #NEXT PART GETS SILLIERRRR #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #sturniolo triplets smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic

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byuntrash101 · 11 months

Text

headache

reader x soft dom!seonghwa smut | mdni 1.7k you've been suffering from headaches recently but your boyfriend knows exactly how to get rid of them nsfw tags under the cut

very gentle and soft dom!hwa, established relationship, daddy kink, pet names (babygirl, angel), making out, oral (f), fingering (f), hwa is pussy drunk, tiny bit of possessive!hwa, praising, edging, watersports + omorashi

a/n: i stumbled on a twitter p♡rn link and it blossomed into this <3. a lot of you asked me for more ws so here it is hehe. i hope you enjoy. if it's not your thing it's okay! just dont read okay babe? i have other fics for you in the masterlist <3

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN’T ENJOY.

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Recently you’ve been suffering from recurring headaches. At first you thought it was your cycle. But then you became more attentive to when the headaches occurred. And it turns out you simply were not drinking enough water! The thing is that your headaches always happened when you got home after being at your boyfriend's place for a couple of days. Simply because, well, when you were there you’re too busy cuddling and kissing to be taking your lips off him for even a second to drink a sip of water.

The good thing is it’s an easy remedy: just drink more water.

And Seonghwa intends to ensure your good hydration this time. Out of kindness of course, out of love! Nothing more! He just hates when you get home and call him the next day with your small little voice to tell him you had to lock yourself up in the dark, because your head is ringing and he can’t even be around you to pamper you and take care of his baby, that breaks his heart. He hates to know you’re in pain.

So today your loving boyfriend makes sure you do just that: drink more water.

When you watched the latest episode of your series on Netflix he paused several times to get you a full glass of water. When you ate your take out again three full glasses of water.

Chilling on your phone watching tiktok “don’t forget your water baby~”. Listening to his hilarious work stories “your water babe”.

Even going as far as making you drink when he held you in his arms and you complained about not being able to reach the glass on the coffee table.

“Here baby” he said, putting the rim of the glass against your lips.

He couldn’t explain it but he felt himself twitch at the way your lips pursed up and opened slightly around the glass, your neck bending and following his wrist as he tilted the glass to let the water flow into your mouth. He throbbed at the way the water disappeared into your mouth as you swallowed in big gulps until the glass was completely empty, the ice cubes tinkling against the glass as he set the cup back on the coffee table.

“Aaaaah~” you sighed in satisfaction. “Thanks Hwa”

“You’re welcome my angel” he said before pecking your lips made cool from the fresh water.

God how pretty you were like this, wrapped up in his arms like a fragile little bird, looking up at him with this bright smile and shiny wet lips.

He planted another kiss right on your wet mouth but this time he parted his lips, his hot tongue reaching out to your cool one. Kissing you gently but deeply sharing his warmth and spit until your mouth was burning hot. Long fingers wrapping around your nape and pushing your face further into his. The gesture made you moan into his mouth making him smirk into the kiss. He loved the sounds that you made. So much so that he haphazardly reached for the TV remote to mute the device. He wanted to hear you, only you.

Then Seonghwa slipped you out of his lap to sit you on the couch. He kneeled in front of you to very carefully flip the hem of your skirt over your stomach. He couldn’t help but to smirk when his eyes finally laid on the beautiful lacey panties you were wearing today. One of his favorites. Baby pink with a pearly bow in the center. A pair he picked and gifted you.

“So fucking perfect” he breathed as you pushed your thighs together, feeling your arousal pool into the lace as he praised you.

He bent over your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, working his way up until he pressed a couple more to your pubic bone. You jerked a little as he pressed his face a little too hard on your lower stomach, given how much water you had drank.

“Now be a good girl for daddy and spread your legs” as he sat back up. You looked down at him through your lashes but still you obeyed and parted your knees as you heard your boyfriend curse under his breath. He smirked, spotting the wet patch of fabric, making the pink ever so slightly darker.

“You’re wet already angel?” he snickered, his palm caressing your open thighs.

“Y-yeah. I got wet when daddy was tongue kissing me” you confessed before biting down on your lower lip.

“Fuck” Seonghwa swore again, his dick twiching in his pants, he could feel himself already leaking precum onto his boxers. He just loved when you were so upfront with him. You looked so innocent, covering half of your face with your back hand and breathing rapidly but your pussy was already soaked and gushing for him. And you had no shame admitting it and exposing yourself to him. To his eyes only. You were his only

He pulled on your legs to bring your ass to the edge of the couch before pulling your panties down, not even taking the time to discard them, just letting them hang on one of your ankles before he prompted you to spread your legs for him again.

The way your pussy lightly twitched and sparkled covered in your juices had his cock quivering in his sweatpants. He wanted to taste you. He needed to.

He approached his face to your sopping center and licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. Right before curling his tongue back in his mouth, scooping as much of your slick as he could, smacking his lips to fully take in your taste. Your flavor was sweeter than honey and more intoxicating than the strongest liquors.

Seonghwa wrapped his arms around your under thighs and pushed his palms on your hips. Securing you right in his hold and spreading you like a buffet.

“Fuck daddy~” you whined.

He approached his mouth once again but this time his lips wrapped around your clit as he gave you light kitten licks. He looked up at you lapping away at your bundle of nerves, you couldn’t help but to moan at the pleasure you felt. Soon you started to rock your hips, rubbing your juices onto his face as he didn’t alter his pace.

“Please Daddy” you complained, yearning for more.

“My baby girl is so eager” he said, not parting his lips from your heat.

“It’s because I love daddy’s mouth so much.” you whined. “Please let me cum on daddy’s tongue”

“Soon my baby. But daddy wants to taste you thoroughly first”

Minutes passed and Seonghwa was taking so much pleasure in edging you. Licking and sucking on your clit only to back away when he felt you twitch on his tongue just to see your precious little cunt throb around nothing and gushing out more of your juices just to be savored by him and repeat the process over and over again.

But at some point you couldn’t even focus on the pleasure anymore. The only thing you felt was how full you were. How full your bladder felt.

“Daddy” you started cautiously.

“Yes angel?” your boyfriend replied, face still buried deep in your throbbing cunt.

“I-I think I drank too much water. I need to go to the b-bathroom” you said, shame slowly creeping under your skin.

Seonghwa smirked against your folds. Only to latch onto your clit again, this time licking more precisely on the sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan loudly and arch your back.

“It’s okay baby. Daddy doesn’t mind.” he growled, eating you out like a starved man.

“No please daddy stop” you begged as you felt your pussy contract around nothing, your bladder also contracting dangerously. “It’s gross daddy” you complained, kicking your feet as the pleasure kept on rising.

“If it’s too much for you, just let go, okay angel?” He cooed against your folds.

“Please daddy…” you inhaled sharply, feeling yourself filled to the brim with piss. “Gonna p-” you whined but Seonghwa interrupted you.

“Just piss in daddy’s mouth baby” he said, pushing on your hips angling them just right. And you just couldn’t hold it in any longer. You let out your hot steamy piss right into your boyfriend's mouth. Seonghwa backed up a little and stuck his long tongue out as the powerful stream hit him right in the back of the throat letting out gurgles of satisfaction, gulping down as much piss as he could, mouth rapidly filling up to overflow and wetting his gray sweatpants.

When the stream started to slow down he wrapped his lips around your clit again and shoved two long fingers inside your cunt that he curled right into your g spot, pressing against your bladder again. The stream of hot piss picked up.

He wanted to drain you, take all of your piss for himself.

He started to pump his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt rapidly.

“Fuck daddy loves your piss much baby” he briefly said before sucking and licking your clit again, swallowing more of your delicious nectar.

“Daddy I'm cumming” you cried out.

“Cum for daddy baby” he allowed. And you finally leap over the edge. The orgasm is one of the most intense ones you’ve experienced. It completely rips through your body and shatters the earth beneath you as your legs tense up and your hips shake uncontrollably. Your hungry little cunt violently twitching around Seonghwa’s relentless fingers still pumping in and out of you, accompanying you on your descent, grunting and humming against your folds and he licked and sucked on your swollen bud until the pleasure died down and your legs fell limp, hanging over Seonghwa’s toned shoulders.

Seonghwa took a moment to admire your red and swollen cunt, occasionally twitching with the remnants on the strong orgasm your felt, sticky juices still lazily oozing out your entrance. He licked out one last stripe from your entrance and parted your lips with his tongue to twirl around your pee hole one last time.

“I think you’re cured now” he beamed at you smacking his lips, relishing in the intoxicating taste of your slick and piss one last time.

What a good boyfriend he was making sure you drank enough and making you cum to prevent your headaches.

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a/n: im still so self conscious about publishing watersports and this one was very filthy sooo pleaseeeeee comment and tell me if you enjoyed okay? just drop an anon ask if u dont want to leave ur userid on here! i would appreciate it so much <333

#seonghwa smut #ateez smut #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fic #ateez fic #kpop smut #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #seonghwa hard hours #seonghwa hard thoughts

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rachalixie · 3 months

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hey, i got this ticket? it says “one free cute jisung thought because i said so”. can i cash it in?

a/n: anything for you <3 (gn!reader, jisung fluff, alcohol mention but it's up to you to decide if they have been drinking or not). also i did not proofread this. sorry.

11:59 pm.

you glance at your phone for a moment, clicking it off and returning your attention to the girl enthusiastically telling a story across the room. and you wait. and wait, for what seems like several minutes.

you glance at your phone again, and -

12:00 am.

how has it only been one minute? your friend, your trusted ride for the evening, was slamming down another glass of wine and giggling into her glass in a way that indicated that she should not be behind the wheel.

you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home right now, but that meant that you had to walk the three blocks to your apartment alone, at midnight.

was that a risk you were willing to take? as you looked around the room at the people growing increasingly more drunk by the minute, you decided that yes, you were willing to take it. no one noticed as you walked out of the room into the foyer, your friend didn’t take out her phone when you texted her that you were leaving and that she was not allowed to drive herself home, not a single head turned when you walked out of the door and closed it with a soft click.

or so you thought.

you didn’t make it three steps away from the building before you felt a presence behind you, approaching quickly, and you ball your hand into a fist in preparation for an encounter that you really didn’t want to deal with. your hand falls to your side when you realize that it was jisung, your friend and neighbor and, to your embarrassment, the man you were totally head over heels in love with. the man who you spent all evening avoiding, the image of him sitting next to someone else, pressed against their side, burning in your eyes when you close them. the man who was the real reason why you left.

“where are you going?” he says, slightly breathless from how he had rushed out after you.

“none of your business,” you quirk an eyebrow up at him, absolutely not endeared by the way his cheeks puff out with the breath he holds in before sighing out. “i’m going home, you can go back. i’m okay.”

“well, let me walk you back,” he matches your stride as you turn back towards the sidewalk. “i was about to leave anyways.”

“why?” a spark of annoyance tingles up your spine and you tamper it down. “you think i can’t defend myself?”

“well, no, i know you can,” his eyes flicker down to your hands for a moment. “but do you want to be in a position where you have to?”

and the truth was, you didn’t. the annoyance fizzles out and you realize that you’re grateful for his presence by your side, a warm welcome against the cool night air. if there was anyone whose company you would never deny, it was his, even if you put on a front. your hands brush against each other’s as you walk in comfortable silence, each touch lighting a fire inside of you.

he walks on the end of the sidewalk closest to the street, and despite there being no cars out this late you find the gesture sweet. you imagined that if he was wearing a jacket that he would offer it to you - you wished he would offer you his hoodie, if only so you could keep it.

“well,” you rest your hand on the doorknob, sighing at its familiarity after a long day. “this is me.”

“okay,” he falters, taking a step closer to you and running a hand through his hair. your eyes catch on a vein trailing up his wrist to his hand and you don’t realize you’ve been staring for maybe too long until he clears his throat. “i was wondering - and please let me know if i got the wrong idea but. can i come in?”

“you spent all evening next to someone else,” you’re a little confused, a little more angry, and very caught off-guard. “and now you’re asking to come into my home? what are you playing at?”

“so it worked?” he smiles, a bit bashful as the blood rushes to the top of his cheekbones. “i wasn’t sure if it would, i saw it in a movie once. make them jealous and you’ll know if they like you back by how they react, right?”

you blink at him. one moment passes, and then the next, in shocked silence. his gaze on you is unwavering, slow blinks of his eyes a tell of the passing time. his eyes are burning on you, you feel so utterly exposed in front of him and -

“god, you’re stupid,” you blurt out, a laugh made up of relief, surprise, and embarrassment bubbling up in your chest. “i can’t believe i like a fucking loser.”

“so, you do like me then?” his smile turns into a full grin, and you can’t help but think that satisfaction looks way too good on his face. instead of answering, you swing the door open and pull him inside by the collar.

you’ll show him satisfaction.

and then they have sex and get married yeah.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #jisung fluff #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff

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musings-of-a-rose · 3 months

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Weighted Blanket

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 860+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Chatting about what a great weighted blanket this man would make and so I dedicate this to @laurfilijames. This was not beta read.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

Today had been the day from hell. You knew it would be, especially since you’d been out for several days being sick. Morning meetings ran long, everyone scrambling to prepare to open, and then the patients? Don’t even get me started.

When I finally get into my car at the end of the day, I turn on the ac and rest my head against the headrest taking several deep breaths, just listening to the vents pumping cool air into my hot car. I just have to make it home. A shower is waiting for me and Will should be home today.

Will.

My amazing boyfriend of a year and a half. Will had to go away for work for a few days and was finally coming home. I know a few days isn’t that long but it killed him to leave me when I was sick. And to be honest, I hated not having him there, sick or not.

His truck is in the parking lot when I pull in and I smile knowing he’s upstairs. I hurry to our apartment and push my key in the lock, quickly shedding my shoes and tossing my bag down on the little side table before heading towards the kitchen, where sounds and a delicious, heavenly smell were emanating from. I lean against the door frame, just taking in the sight of him. Will, standing at the stove with his back to me, casually making my favorite food, his hair still wet from a shower, navy blue shirt stretched thin over his broad back and thick arms, grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. He clicks off the burner and divvy’s the food onto 2 plates before turning, his face lighting up when he sees me.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was work?” When I don’t answer right away, he let’s out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”

I nod, pushing off the door frame. “Nothing I didn’t anticipate. Still sucked though.”

“You hungry?”

“Starving. But first I need to shower. I feel so gross.”

Will sets the plates down and takes a few large steps towards me. He moves for a hug and damn do I want one, but I’m gross. People actually spit up on me today. So I sigh, stepping back and Will puts his hands up, freezing in place.

“Must have been really bad.”

“You don’t even want to know.”

He winks and blows a kiss at me, turning back to finish up dinner. The shower was glorious, the hot water and bubbles relaxing me somewhat, and washing away all of the gross from my skin and hair. I don’t linger, my stomach grumbling as I pull on some pajamas and head straight for the kitchen table, where Will had just set down drinks for us. Before I sit, he pulls me to him, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hands cradling my face.

“I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I really missed you too, Will.” He starts to deepen the kiss, but is interrupted by the loudest grumble yet from my traitor of a stomach. He laughs, placing a hand on my tummy.

“Let’s get some food in you.”

—----

Dinner was delicious, as usual when Will cooks. It’s not just that he follows the recipe to a t, but he has his own personal flair to it. Will’s cooking can make any sour mood turn sweet. Or maybe that’s just me.

After our bellies are full, we sit on the couch and I curl my body against his, feeling his large arm wrap around me, the warmth from him seeping into my bones. He kisses the top of my head and rests his own there, both of us content to just be with the other. But my day was hard and before long, I feel my eyelids drooping. Will must have noticed because I swear I blinked and somehow ended up in bed, Will pulling the blankets up around me before crawling in next to me. He tries to pull me to him, but it’s not what I need. He crooks his finger under my chin, lifting my head to look at him through sleepy eyes.

“Do you need Will blanket?” I nod, my eyes barely open.

Will helps me lay down on my back, making sure my pillow is adjusted before he drapes half his body over mine, linking one of his muscular legs with mine as he tucks himself over me. His arm drapes over my body, rubbing small circles into my opposite arm. I turn my head and realize my nose is in the perfect spot to nuzzle into his hair, so I do it, inhaling the scent of him. The weight of him on me settles my nerves, the last bit of overstimulation and wired emotions leeching from my body the longer I feel his breathing, his body pressing into mine.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.”

It’s so tender and loving, full of care and I think about how much I love this man as he gently lulls me to sleep.

In the morning, he has different plans for me and I’m so glad I got the rest I needed.

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

#will miller x reader #will miller x you #will miller x f!reader #will miller x female reader #will miller #william miller #willilam ironhead miller #will ironhead miller #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fan fic #triple frontier ff #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam character fanfic #charlie hunnam character fanfiction #charlie hunnam character ff #charlie hunnam characters

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ed-recovery-affirmations · 2 months

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I just made myself a cup of a new tea, one from a set that a friend sent me. I was super curious to try it with and without milk in it, so after I take a sip without, I'm going to add milk to my tea.

That may seem like such an inane little story to post on a blog, unless you have an eating disorder. I'm sure many of you know what a big deal milk in tea can be, and what an important act of self-love it is.

It was poured into many of our ears, approaching teenhood in the mid-2000's, not to "drink our calories." For those of us whose restriction was weight-based, many of us practiced filling ourselves with water, with our coffee black and unsweetened whether that was how we liked it or not, and with tea that never contained milk.

Like many people who've struggled with binge eating and with restriction, I struggle with creating anxiety-inducing rules about when is okay to eat, especially if I'm between meals and worrying if I should allow myself a snack, or if it's okay to quench my thirst with anything other than water. This is especially true between meals. For some reason my brain has accepted the "extra" caloric intake as part of a meal, but still balks at the idea of introducing these things independently into non-meal parts of the day. I would like to note that my chronic illness and my body's reaction to food has also influenced this weird relationship between me and my favorite treats, such as a piece of candy, or a beverage that might happen to contain a greater-than-zero calorie count.

But tonight, before bed, I want to try this tea. And it sounds like one that'd be super tasty with milk, as it has cocoa powder and vanilla in the blend. So I let my tea cool in the room with me as I type this, telling myself that I can get up and go back for milk after I taste it.

Now I have gone to the kitchen.

Now I have poured in a splash of milk and tasted. It's soy milk, as regular milk sometimes hurts my stomach and I don't want my sleep to be disrupted. Due to my chronic illness, this is still something I have to think about, and I'll be honest, I hate it. Things like this make it so hard to tell myself I can let go of my food fears, because my brain knows that some of my food fears will turn out to have validity, and so what if they all do?

Now I have poured in another splash. Tasted.

Now I have poured in a third, much larger splash. Tasted.

Oh, this is it. This tea tastes like a warm dessert. But now it's too cool, so I need to microwave it back to its best heat. I used to not want to microwave my food. As a teen I heard a hippie say that microwaves destroy the nutrients in your food because the radiation breaks down their molecular structure. This is absolutely false. In fact, it's been disproven that microwaves break down nutrients any more than other methods of heating food, but for a long time I believed it. And even after I learned the truth, I still found it hard to convince myself it was okay to use microwaves for a very long time.

I have just finished my tea in my room. I took the time to identify that I wanted it. I took the time to truly taste it in several different ways, consider how I felt I wanted it and bring it to those specifications. It wasn't planned for any specific time or day, but I agreed to give myself this the way I wanted it anyway. I've been drinking my coffee with milk every morning, too. I actually like black coffee, but I like it better with milk. And I give myself things throughout the day that I enjoy, to enhance my experience of my existence. Life is hard, and it's okay to allow yourself, to the fullest extent you can, the small joys that bring you through the day.

I wanted to share this with you. I hope you don't feel the crushing weight of morality when staring at a bottle of regular soda and the sugar-free, when you wake up with your morning coffee, when your self-care regimen includes a cup of tea. I hope you practice actively giving yourself the love you need this week. And I hope you give it to yourself exactly the way you need it.

#recovery diaries #ed recovery #restriction recovery #self care #food cw #long post

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bee-nutauthor · 3 months

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Dimitrescu Sisters If they were Content Creators Headcanon (for fun)

Bela Dimitrescu

-The most wholesome, mom-esque content ever

-Will give you good life advice, whether it be shopping tips on how to get more groceries for less, or tips on how to manage your finances

-Makes cooking videos, sewing videos, make up videos, candle making videos, nail painting vidoes- basically anything to do with crafts and she's probably done it

-Speaks in a calm tone, has mellow music in the background

-Uses very calm colors in her videos, meaning her shirts are in cool tones of blues, grays, whites, and blacks.

-Her backdrop is a clean and organized space- a light wood bookshelf, plain walls, some minimalist flower vases, and a diffuser

-Is very organized with her schedule. Her videos are always up at the same time and day, and she follows a rotating schedule of what topics she will make videos for

-Controversies? None, unless you count the time she roasted a company who wanted her to do a paid promo for actually being toxic and causing them to shut down

-She is affectionately called 'Internet Mom'

-She does not understand the 'sorry, mommy' jokes and does not wish to

-Does not collab with other content creators, which lead to a conspiracy theory whether she actually existed in real life or was a robot

-Is sponsored mostly by clothing brands

Cassandra Dimitrescu

-She is a storytime channel, telling the most outlandish stories ever

-And they're all true. Her life is just like that

-She travels a lot for work so often she'll film travel vlogs or behind the scene vlogs

-Collabs all the time with other content creators

-Always has famous people on her channel

-Does Q and A's

-Her video uploading schedule is not super consistent due to her traveling a lot, and sometimes she'll post several videos in a row and then there will be nothing for a long time

-She has cycled through 5 public relationships within the first three months of her channel

-Has released music videos on her channel and is planning on releasing a full album. She always puts a lot of effort into her sets and costume design. Her singing is amazing as she's classically trained and can do opera too

-Has starred in other content creator's mini series on youtube and always draws the most views in

-Outfits are always changing depending on if she's traveling or making music videos

-Has made a few comedy skits here and there

-Controversies? There is a lot of drama circling around her and who she's hooking up with or who she'll go for next. A few people tried to call out her melodramatic behavior and instead of making an apology video Cassandra winked at the camera, sent the viewers a kiss and said "you know you love me like this," and ended the video like that.

-She was right. Her views only skyrocketed after this

-Gets many sponsorships, but donates the money from them to art or dance studios

Daniela Dimitrescu

-A streamer, she streams several hours a day in a row

-She does games mostly, with the occasional video filming her attempt to cook some horrific dish she found on the internet such as the toducken

-Has posted a few videos of herself doing tricks on her skateboard

-Has posted a few videos of her work out routines. Those have millions of views for reasons relating to her crop top and abs

-Has a set up with RGB lights in the back, and a mini fridge full of energy drinks

-Has the latest technology to play games on, but wears the same outfit almost always to her streams: a black tank top, a black hoodie with neon green writing on it, and a pair of headphones with cat ears on top

-Has dyed her hair many times but commonly sticks with her red hair, shaved on one side

-Has tattoos of her favorite video game characters on her arms and legs

-Will stream with other players and has done a handful of collabs but prefers playing single player games

-Rarely sleeps and has done several 24 hour streams for charity

-Controversies? She was accused of cheating when doing a speedrun but it was only the haters claiming she couldn't play

-Sponsored by raid shadow legends and other game companies

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident lover #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #the dimitrescu's as influencers

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everythingne · 5 months

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marketing ploy ln4 - ch 6

Austria goes to shit. Great Britain follows.

piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating

warnings/notes: inappropriate comments, lando being overprotective, arguments/cursing, mildly severe car accidents (guys its an f1 fic what we were expecting. gotta do the cliche for my first fic), vague descriptions of injury, a few sexual comments, this is SO LONG. like 5k-6k words?

prev | next

01 JULY, AUSTRIA.

I woke up with a bad feeling in my chest and an odd headache. My lone hotel room, to give Oscar and Lily some space since she was finally able to tag along again this season, felt so enclosing. Slowly pulling myself out of bed, I groaned and immediately went to get ready when I noticed the time. Luckily, it was only qualifiers today, so I didn't have much to do other than hide in my office and make sure no one's car was going to explode.

But god, on my worst day, everything has to go wrong.

First, Max's tires never got warmed. Something was broken, and I had to do so much boring bullshit paperwork. Then, Checo's brakes got sticky and we had to have him DNF. Then for some reason, half the fucking sensors hadn't even recorded anything so I couldn't even tell why they had gotten sticky. But I did feel a bit better (not at all) knowing it had also happened to a few other drivers so it wasn’t just us.

So I was having the greatest time, sarcasm fully intended. And then I completely missed seeing Oscar and Lily for lunch because I was in an emergency meeting. And by the time I got out of Red Bull's garage, it was nearing five at night and I hadn't had anything to eat or anything to drink after one water bottle and my headache still had gotten worse because of it.

And then got immediately swamped by reporters.

Luckily, I saved some class and patience and was able to make it through fine but by the time I got to McLaren's garage, I was about ready to snap at someone.

"Ollie!"

Thank god.

"Oscar." I hum as he wraps an arm around my shoulder, and then he makes a face as he notices just how exhausted I am.

"You guys had it rough today." He says and I just nod, rubbing at my jaw and rolling my neck as he steps back, leans over, and hands me a packet of some sort of assorted chocolates.

"I love you so much." I sigh as I open the packet and he laughs, dragging me further into the garage where everyone else is settled and just relaxing. McLaren had a really good day, both Lando and Oscar in Q1 and I can see everyone laughing and celebrating. A completely different feel from the tense garage at Red Bull. Lily gives me a tight hug when she sees me and urges me to come sit with her so we can catch up, we end up in a bit further and in a corner so we can have a bit of privacy. All is fine, and Lily is very quickly improving my mood as we giggle and share stories (and I happily answer all her questions about Lando and me) before we're approached by a guy I don't recognize.

"You guys need water?" He asks innocently, and though it's not extremely hot in Austria, I take one from his hands. Lily denies it, showing off the water bottle she's still drinking, and the guy seemingly just blips out.

"Weird." I hum, cracking open the water bottle and taking a sip of the cool liquid, "Never seen him before. Maybe he's new?"

"Or a volunteer?" Lily suggests and I shrug in response, eventually, Oscar comes over and wraps an arm around Lily's waist and she grins, popping a kiss on his cheek. Finally, the two of them were actually looking like a couple in public. Which, is probably what happens when two introverts start dating. I swear they didn't hold hands for months.

"Lando's being interviewed if you wanna wait for him for the media shit." Oscar pokes my hand and I pretend to flick the water bottle at him. The two of us make faces for a few seconds before I nod, taking another sip of my water bottle.

"Yeah, he and I are going out to eat again tonight. Andrea's idea." I sigh, looking over my shoulder where I can see Lando sitting with some people with a microphone in hand. I notice though it's not Sky, but rather ESPN, and I hum before turning back to Oscar and Lily and wishing them on their way. I pull out my phone, answering a few texts before someone walks up beside me. And it's the same guy from earlier.

"Oh. Hi." I say softly as he smiles at me, looking a little flustered for a second before he starts talking.

"Just wanted to say hello, I'm one of the mid-season hires. I'm an engineering assistant, Jordan." He held out his hand and I grinned, shaking his hand firmly.

"Olivia Piastri, Oscar's younger sister. I'm Red Bull's head analyst." I let go of his hand and Jordan nods, he wrings his hands before he continues talking and I feel the confidence he's trying to exhume here.

"Ah, I've seen a bit about you. Kinda hard to miss such a pretty face." Jordan grins, running a hand through his hair and tilting his head with a tiny grin.

Is he flirting with me? Is this guy daft?

"Well, thank you. But uhm--" I look around the garage, hoping to maybe signal another person in the garage to come over and get me out of this just terribly awkward situation. Lando's wrapping up his interview, handing back his microphone and laughing softly as he shakes hands with the reporters.

"Seriously, you're by far one of the most gorgeous girls I've seen." Jordan steps a bit closer and leans on the wall beside me with his body covering my view of the majority of the garage, "are you free tonight? I'd like to get to know you better."

I step back, putting myself back into the view of the garage as I try to keep my patience and shake my head no. I'd never had this issue before, how exactly does one stop unwanted advances? I'd never had to, I was never alone when these sorts of things happened to me.

So, I stammer, "Ah, I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend and.."

"Ay, is he here? Because I don't see anyone staking their claim on you." Jordan grins and I tighten my grip on the water bottle and click my tongue against my teeth. Okay, if he was gonna be like that I could be bitchy too. I glance back across the room one final time, making eye contact with Jon who gives me a sharp nod, but I don't see Lando anymore. Which... could be good or bad.

"He works for McLaren, and is a part of your team, so you might wanna... not... flirt with me?" I turn back to Jordan, make an uncomfortable grimace at him, and end up tightly crossing my arms over my uniform shirt, "So..."

"Yeah, who's your boyfriend then?" Jordan hums, looking over, "Jon?"

"Me," A hand slides across my waist, fingers digging into my skin harsh enough to likely leave bruises as I'm tugged back into Lando's chest. With one hand still firm on my waist, his other hand comes to my jaw so he can turn me to press a soft kiss to my lips before he leans back and whispers, "Hi, baby."

"Hi, Nori." I smile, turning back to Jordan who raises an eyebrow. And I can already tell this is going to be terrible because he hasn't exactly backed down. I see a reporter tilt their camera at us, and I grip Lando's wrist to tell him to back off. But Lando stays close, and my cheeks tint red as Jordan starts to speak.

"Got yourself a good-lookin' girl there, Lando." Jordan grins, winking at me and making my skin crawl. Lando's hands tighten on my waist, pulling me into him a bit more if that's even possible, and now I'm not even mad that he's doing this anymore. I wanted to be doing anything else than being here.

"Mhm. Olivia's my girl, don't you know? She's been my girlfriend for a while, so why dont'cha step back?" Lando smiles, but his threat is not hidden very well.

"Ay, it's all good Lando, I don't like to share my meals."

"Oh-kay!" I shout but Lando takes over, stepping around me to point at Jordan and get in his face. I see half the McLaren garage turn, and someone shouts to send the media out of the garage as the cameras scramble to try and take photos and videos of the altercation.

"If you know what's good for you--" Lando grits, eyes narrowing as Jordan smirks in his face. His confidence was a far cry from the scrawny guy who had walked up to me prior, Lando continues through his teeth, "You won't say anything like that again or I'll make sure you can't speak anymore."

"Sorry, man. Didn't realize this would piss you off so much," Jordan takes a step back, his smile making it known his apology was fake, and my tight grip on Lando's wrist makes it so he won't follow.

"Bye, Jordan," I say, voice soft but level. A sort of period to the end of whatever conversation Lando and Jordan had silently through their eyes before Jordan backed off and slipped into the crowd of McLaren officers off to the side. I keep my iron grip on Lando's wrist and he slowly turns around to look at me. At this point, my exhaustion and anger from the whole day is bubbling just under my skin. Unlike my twin, I was never good at completely holding myself back when I got like this.

"Lando." My tone comes out much colder than I'm expecting, and I grab his wrist again and forcefully tug him to my side as I hiss, "What the fuck was that?!"

"Did you hear what he said?"

"Yes! But was that worth threatening him?"

"What did you want me to do?" He said and when I peeked over his shoulder and saw everyone watching, I grabbed Lando by the collar and pulled him into Andrea's vacant office, slamming the door shut and pointing at him.

"I had it handled, okay?" I snap, "He was just being a jackass, you didn't have to threaten to make him unable to speak--Lando! Who the fuck says that?!"

"Did you have it handled? That was you having it handled?" Lando asks, incredulously, sitting on the edge of Andrea's desk as I stay at the door, using my heel to keep it closed just in case someone tried to push it open at any point since I knew the door didn't lock.

"You don't need to protect me like that, Lando, it's not your job!"

"It's not, I'm your boyfriend--" And the rest of what Lando says fizzles out in my head. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word that had been taunting me for weeks. Lando Norris, my boyfriend for the media. The boy who could never be mine. And something in my chest breaks, I can feel the tether finally snap, and I shout.

"No, you are not!" My volume surprises me, and I know McLaren can probably hear us immediately after saying it, so I drop my voice down to a hard snapping tone, "You aren't my boyfriend, Lando. You aren't! You can't be, no matter how much I love you, or you love me, or if we fall in love after all of this is over--you are not my boyfriend and you will never be because we can't be in love, Lando!"

"We can't? Who said that?!" He snaps back, "Do you think I've been doing all of this for media? For a fucking paycheck? God, no Ollie. I fell in love with you the first time Oscar brought you around! Do you think I agreed with this for a check? No, I agreed to that stupid contract because it's you! If it was anyone else I would've just walked the fuck out of that office, it's you I want, only you, only you, Olivia."

"But you know you can't have me, so why string me along like this? We can't be together, no matter what we want, we're gonna have to break up at some point! So why should we even try?"

"Who cares what they say? Zak, Andrea, Christian? You're gonna let them run your life?" Lando steps closer to me, taking my jaw into his gentle hold, voice so soft I feel my heart drum against my lungs, "We do what they say, sure, but once we've completed that contractual obligation... can they tell us we can't ever be this again? Be... us, again?"

"I can't do this Lando," I whisper, bringing my hands to my chest and he steps back. The space between us suddenly felt so vast, and something in me clicked and I knew something irreversible was going to be said. That maybe I had started the downfall here, and Lando's hurt expression tells me I have.

He can only whisper, "Why?"

"I just..." I stammer, making a vague gesture to the room. There's no way for me to express the thousands of thoughts that race through my head, a constant loop of some F1 circuit of emotional mess slamming into every reasonable thought and fizzling out reason.

"Because you're scared of being loved? You're scared of what will happen if you fall in love?" Lando accuses and I can't answer those questions, because I am. I'm so scared. But not because of Lando. Because of media. So I shout the next best option.

"I never wanted the attention! I didn't become a driver because I can't handle the media like you all can! And yet I end up here, and--" I go to keep talking and Lando holds up a hand, shouting over me,

"Okay, then back out! You clearly want nothing to do with me, or this, or everything that's happening, so go tell Christian you're done!"

Silence. I swallow thickly because no. I don't want to be done. I want to fight tooth and nail for everything in this relationship, but also, was this what was best? Should I back out now, before everything we've done catches up to us? A hubris that needs to be checked? I knew from the beginning I was going to burn, but not like this. Never did I think it would be like this.

"Olivia..." Lando whispers, and I feel something roll down my cheeks. I'm crying I realize. The world is blurry, my throat is dry, and I'm crying over a relationship I can now see we both want but... at least to me, we can never have.

Do I ask Christian..?

"No, Lando." I sigh, doting under my teary eyes, "This is why. This is why. We will end up here one day, and I can't do that. I... I'll talk to you later."

"Ollie, wait!"

I turn, leaving the office in a hurry. I shove through the McLaren workers who try to stop me and once I'm in the clear, I run. The Red Bull paddock isn't far and once I get there I can't breathe, shoving through people who now wear the same uniform as me. My office doesn't even feel safe, the flowers on my desk mocking me, and I grab them and in a fit of rage, I throw them across the room. It doesn't make the pain in my chest leave.

“Olivia!” Someone shouts and I turn, Christian just barely in the doorway. I shout, without thinking, without even pausing.

“I’m backing out! I’m done with that media stunt—!” And a hiccup breaks my sentence, “Get me out of it!”

“I—“

“—Now, Christian!”

The garage is silent after my scream, and poor Christian looks horrified as he nods, and shuts the door to my office. I let a shaky breath out as I realize what I’ve done is irreversible, but there’s so much pain in my whole heart I can’t tell if that’s what’s hurting me. I sink to my knees on the floor, a hand on my chest, a hand on the carpet, and I sob.

I don’t even know why I’m crying.

An arm is around my shoulder, a set of hands resting on my elbows as someone whispers to me. I don't even know who the people are when I look up, and the sight of both Max and Checo kneeling in front of me makes the tears double. At some point, Checo leaves, once I've calmed enough for Max to convince me to lay down with his jacket covering my legs as I hiccupped and slowed down my breathing with Max's hand applying solid pressure to my chest.

Charles and Daniel come back with Checo, who then leaves the room entirely, and I end up with my weird little mixed driver support group on the floor in my office.

Something so odd, something that should not be happening in any way, but yet here we are.

Somehow, one relationship shattering had made the other relationships in my life more clear. Relationships that had started casually and professionally, and ended up with me now having twenty or so brothers at this point.

Brothers.

Just like Oscar.

Max drops me at Oscar's hotel room a few hours later when he returns from his date with Lily. She ends up going off on her own, with a few of the other WAGs, to give Oscar and me privacy. I settle on the couch, sipping a water bottle as Oscar looks out the window. I hadn't told anyone else what Lando and I had argued about, Max had kinda picked up on it as had Charles, but they had given me a berth. A space to explain. When I didn't take the invitation, they didn't try and pull me in to say anything. Which I appreciated beyond words.

"What happened?" Comes the soft voice of my twin. I knew Oscar wouldn't have been like them though.

“I backed out,” I say, rubbing a hand along the fabric beneath me.

"What?" Oscar turns to face me, "You backed out?"

"Of the shit with Lando, I can't do it anymore. I can't have my emotions being toyed with like this anymore. And we both like each other but one day they're gonna come along and tell us we need to break up and we have to listen to them." I find a stray string in the couch stitching and begin picking it. My nails dig into them, making a slightly bigger hole. It feels like the way I'd ripped a hole into my own heart earlier.

"I had a feeling this was gonna happen." Oscar walks across the room to sit on the arm of the couch, looking over at me, "what happened?"

"I just had a shit day, and... and when this guy at McLaren started flirting excessively with me he got super overprotective and threatened the guy. Which... isn't the worst but he could've handled it better." I wave my hands, "But I had such a shit day I just blew up at him over it, and we fought, and he told me to back out if I couldn't handle it... and when I got back to Red Bull I just did it. I didn't even think and now I think I made a huge fuckin' mistake but I can't go back on it now."

"Could you talk to Christian? Ask him to wait?" Oscar hums, his hand coming up to card through my hair again and I melt into his touch as per usual.

"I dunno." I murmured, closing my eyes, "I just wanna sleep the rest of the day off."

"We can talk about it tomorrow after the race, okay?" He says, looking down at me before turning to look at his phone as it buzzes on the table. I look up at him and see his jaw tense, hand pausing on my head as he makes a face.

"Oh, Christ." He whispers, turning his phone to me. I climb up to sit next to him, eyes widening as I look over the post he shares and my stomach falls to my chest.

"This is not what Christian told me would happen," I whisper, Oscar's hand squeezing my upper arm in some sort of semblance of support. Of course, getting out of this mess with Lando wouldn't be easy.

Now I needed to talk to Christian. As soon as possible.

01 JULY, TWITTER ↴

written by Julia Sine, 01 July, 2024.

Cars aren't the only thing racing down the track in Austria this weekend, so are some hearts! In an exclusive interview after the qualifier today, multiple McLaren and Red Bull workers spoke with reporter Julia Sine about what might become the next 'it couple' after Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift.

"Lando and I first spoke about it in Bahrain. He said the two of them have been close since Oscar's rookie season last year and he was worried Olivia's job would be at stake if their relationship ever leaked to the public," Steve Atkins, McLaren's Head of Communications explained while standing in the paddock with Chief Executive Officer Zak Brown and Team Principal Andrea Stella, "I went and spoke with Christian Horner, the Team Principal of [Oracle Red Bull Racing] and we agreed that since they were on separate teams, and Olivia was an analyst and not an engineer, there was no conflict of interest. Olivia did sign an NDA, just to make sure she wasn't leaking race information to Lando but it was never brought to our attention if Olivia and Lando ended up dating."

"If the two of them are dating, which again I've had nothing clarified to me if they are or aren't, I'd imagine they've been keeping it private due to concerns with the media and fans."

"Olivia and Lando have a very unique connection, and we here at McLaren are all supportive of relations between teams. All our drivers are friends at the end of the day and we support [Lando and Oscar] being friends with any of the drivers outside of racing. However, I will say we have seen some tensions growing between our drivers and Red Bull." Andrea spoke with me and Zak right before leaving for a meeting, Zak agreed with Andrea, and he further stated, "A lot of the tension we've been seeing with Max and Lando on the track stems from this, in my opinion."

When I made my way to Red Bull to ask some more questions about the situation, I was only able to briefly speak with Alice McLoughlin, Red Bull's Head of Communications who said, "The relationships our staff members get into is not any of our business as long as it's not a conflict of interest or damaging to the staff member themselves. I have not been told if there is for certain a relationship, but if there is I wish both of them well but we will be waiting for their announcement before we decide anything.

read more online at popsugar.uk!

04 JULY, 2024 - MILTON KEYNES, UK.

My phone ringing breaks the three hour silence I've subjected myself to after my meeting with Christian and Ada. The meeting where I had said me wanting to back out of the contract was emotionally charged and said I no longer wanted to. Luckily, they hadn't started the process of backing me out of the contract yet, so it was pretty easy for me to stay.

Reaching over, I grab my phone and read the contact, pausing before lifting it to my ear, "Lando..?"

"Ollie, hey... uhm, how are you?" He sounds uncertain, almost like he wasn't sure if I was going to pick up. I can't blame him for thinking that, since our last conversation was that big fight.

"Tired." I admit, but don't say it's because I've lost sleep thinking I was going to lose him, "I'm working late again tonight."

"Oh, sorry... do you want me to call you later?" I hear what sounds like a gear shifting, and I briefly wonder if he's on his sim.

"No, I'm just uploading files. And your voice is honestly more welcome than the silence of a nearly empty Red Bull garage... why'd you call?" I turn to look out the windows at the slowly setting sun, watching as the world is beginning to be coated gold.

"I wanted to apologize for the whole thing with Jordan, I shouldn't have threatened him like that." Lando's words come out rushed and squishy, like he's holding out his heart and expecting me to step on it.

I like to imagine gently covering his heart, protecting it, as I speak softly, "No, no you're fine. I was having a shitty day and I took it out on you. I really should be the one apologizing, you didn't do anything wrong. You were protecting me. Thank you for that."

"Yeah, it's fine. I'd do it a thousand times." He says, then theres a long pause. It's not akward, if anything it allows me to feel the emotions roll through me-- embarrassment at my past behavior, nervousness for his call, and a sick sort of love building in my gut that I, for once, did not push away.

Finally, Lando whispers, "did you back out?"

"I was going to, but... I talked to Christian this morning when I was a bit more level headed and we agreed I'm gonna stay." I say, and I hear him sigh with relief. A small smile bubbles across my lips, letting the giddy feeling fill my body as I tap my toes along the floor and spin my chair.

"Can you come outside?" Lando's question catches me off guard.

"What?"

"Look out your window." He says, and I scramble up from my desk and walk to the big glass panes that cover my office, looking down into the mostly vacant parking lot and there he is.

"You are something else." I whisper, then look back at my computer. I could finish the work tomorrow, "I'll be down in ten."

I scramble to save my work, kicking off my work shoes for the actual nice YSL heels I'd worn in. Once they're secure on my feet, I touch up my makeup and spritz myself with perfume. The whole time I'm giggling to myself, smiling as I pack up my desk and then throw my belongings into my purse and find myself half running to the elevator. I hurry to text Oscar that I'll be back a bit later than expected as the floors ping, and when I hit the ground floor, I throw my phone in my bag without a care, clock out and scan out, and open the door to the cool night breeze rippling across my blushing, hot skin.

God, it was so good to let myself feel this raw emotions again.

Lando pushes himself off his car, hands still in his pockets, and I bee line to him. Luckily, he kinda gets the hint of what I'm asking, and his hands come to rest on my waist when I reach him.

I pause to put my purse on the hood of his car, and then grab his collar and pull his lips to mine.

He laughs into the kiss, our teeth briefly smashing before I right us and press in deep. His arms wrap around my waist and he tugs me closer, one hand sliding up the side of the dress shirt I wear before tangling its fingers in the hair at the base of my neck. When we pull back, briefly, I giggle as he peppers kisses to my hairline before pulling me back in.

"Fuck, I missed you." He whispers against my lips and I step back, just enough to see him--and he looks exhausted. My hands come to his face and he melts into my touch, almost like he's craving it.

"I missed you too." I murmur back, watching the way he holds his eyes shut. I can see the layers of stress physically peeling away from him and being swept away by the hand I raise to run through his curls and the other hand I slide down to apply that comforting firm pressure to the chest--right under his collarbones, and then his head falls to the crook of my neck. One innocent little peck placed on my collarbone that has me shiver.

We stand like that for a while. Two silent beings in the windy, cold, English night, and eventually I convince Lando to sit in his car when my thinly covered legs start to get cold. We end up just... driving. A silence enveloping us as I rest my head on his shoulder and he keeps that damn hand on my thigh. It's gonna be the death of me. He is going to be the death of me.

But, loving Lando Norris is a death I would welcome with open arms.

04 JULY -- INSTAGRAM ↴

OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen, and 145k others...

oliviapiastri: my pretty boy <3

landonorris: this mystery guy needs a haircut hes stealing my look >:(

⤷ oliviapiastri: you'll get over it

maxverstappen: i want u to know kelly shouted 'THANK GOD' when i showed her this post

oscarpiastri: OH SO THIS IS WHY YOU MISSED OUR FUCKING MOVIE NIGHT??

⤷ oscarpiastri: ANSWER ME HELLO?

⤷ oliviapiastri: BRO HOLD ON I AM DOING SOMEONE

⤷ opheliapiastri: OLIVIA????

⤷ oscarpiastri: HOLD THEFUCKON??? OLIVIA LOUISE RAY PIASTRI.

⤷ oaklynnpiastri: moment of silence for our mystery guy. oscar is approaching his location at rapid speeds.

⤷ landonorris: rip

⤷ oscarpiastri: shut.

⤷ oliviapiastri: @ oscarpiastri I MEANT SOMETYHIN. I MEANT TOT TYPE SOMETHING. DO NOT SHOW UP TO HIS HOUSE.

christianhorner: geri said 'good that little fucker didn't break her heart' and slammed the steak knife back into the knife holder.

⤷ oliviapiastri: OH MY GOD?? THANK U MOM?? @ gerihalliwell

⤷ gerihalliwell: of course :)! girls stick together!

09 JULY -- GREAT BRITAIN.

"Max, make sure you're giving space here. These turns can get tricky." I hear someone say in the radios, my hands fidgeting with my keychains as I watch the race on the screens, and then glance over to the sensors. All was running well, back tires a bit hot, but nothing we were concerned about.

"Ollie, tell your brothers best friend to get out of the way." Max frustratedly huffs and I laugh, leaning forward to speak into the comms.

"Logan is in P9, actually, not P1." I chime, luckily getting a soft chuckle from Max. We'd been doing exceptionally well this season as per usual, even if I had sort of stopped paying attention a bit. I did note the tensions between him and Lando were really high during this race. The two had been neck and neck since the beginning, and everytime they got a one-up on the other it just made them push harder. They had a pretty good gap between them and the rest of the racers, with Oscar holding his own in P3. It seemed like another weekend with those three on top, but at least watching this race was interesting.

The breaking sensors start flashing, indicating they're running too hot, so I chime, "Max, ease up on breaking. We might want to look into getting your tires swapped for mediums soon."

Max doesn't respond, but he does ease up on the breaking. Which makes me feel a bit better.

"Lando's coming in hot to the pit." Someone says, and I glance up over the computers and my eyebrows knit. He's driving weird. Like... almost as if he doesn't have control of steering. I see the safety car prepare for a possible departure and I stand, looking down at Max's sensors, and then someone shouting brings my attention back up.

"He can't stop!"

There was a moment where it felt like everything froze. My hands couldn’t find my mouth fast enough to hide my shock. Lando’s car slams probably two hundred kilometers into the barrier that leads into the pit lane and skids along the wall all the way inside the lane until it spins and slams into another one of the barriers. Red Bulls paddock is first in the pit this round, and I can see the smoke beginning to billow around Lando's car immediately once the car fully stops. People are shouting, McLaren engineers sort of straggling by the exit to the track as a yellow is waved, waiting for a command. I see Jon amongst them, shouting into his headset, and I hate the silence lets me hear his voice strain as he hollers,

"Lando! Lando, are you alright?"

I can't hear a response from the McLaren driver even if I strain my ears.

“Lando—come on.” I find myself saying, hearing Max and Checo on the radio asking for clarification of what happened, but also hearing someone say it was clear for people to go and get Lando out of a burning car. My headphones are yanked off my head and Christian’s hand firmly pushes me forward.

“Go.” Is all he has to say.

I’m running faster than I can carry myself, stumbling over numb legs as I sprint to the car. My hands scrape the concrete as I nearly fall, but I save myself the embarrassment of wiping out with a quick stumble and keep running. I can hear more people behind me as I climb up, holding onto the halo to stabilize myself.

“Lando!” I shout as I grab Lando’s helmet and slowly slide his head back as I start to detach him from his seat belts. Jon is there immediately, helping my shaky hands undo the devices. I keep looking at Lando's visor, trying to catch his eyes, but there’s no time to waste as I smell and hear the various engineers who'd run out trying to extinguish the car. I get one side of the belt off, starting to detach the hands device from the helmet by Jon's command when two hands grab my wrist.

Snapping my gaze up, I meet Lando’s eyes from where I’m sitting, one leg wrapped around the halo so I don’t fall, one hand on his neck as I hold the clasp to the hands device, the other on the back of the car as his eyes meet mine.

I’ve never seen Lando look so…terrified. His bright eyes are staring me down, pupils small and shaking as his grip tightens on me. I know my own eyes can’t look much different.

“Ollie?” He whispers and I shush him, detaching him from the car fully as I grab him by the shoulders.

“I got you, Nori. Jon and I got you.” I say softly, looking up to where other drivers are stopped on the track—standing up in their cars to get a better view, “get up so everyone knows you’re okay.”

Lando’s hands grab my shoulders, my hands sliding to his ribs as I slowly help him to his feet with Jon on standby. Medical and McLaren officials swarm around us, hands out and ready to help as I slowly unlatch my leg and slide off the side of the car. Lando’s weight on me is nearly crushing, but once we get him out he collapses even further into my arms in a cry of agony. Two hands find my back, medics reaching to grab Lando and I almost fight them in retaliation.

“Ollie!” someone shouts and I turn to see Jon running along to the medics side. I feel stuck, trying to swallow something that makes my eyes burn. Lando’s still got a vice grip on my wrist and when the medics try to separate us—it only tightens.

“Mr. Norris—“ The woman tries.

“Lando.” I finally find the courage to move forward, they’ve got him on a gurney now, trying to lay him back but he keeps fighting them. I can’t begin to understand why, “you’re okay. Let them take care of you.”

They tilt his visor up, and I gently lay him back, Jon reciting medical information over my head as they begin to assess his damage, still pulling us further away from the car which I note is now long extinguished. They stop us at McLaren's paddocks, Jon dipping inside to grab Lando's things as we wait for an ambulance to meet us here.

“Olivia.” I hear Lando’s muffled voice and I feel tears fill my eyes as I lean down, pressing my forehead to where his visor now lays and let out a shuttering sigh that makes my body ache just as much as my heart.

“You’ll be okay, Lando. But you have to let them help you.” I speak in a strained voice, feeling one of his hands come to wrap around my waist. I find his other hand and squeeze it, before that hand comes to rest under his helmet, “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“I don’t wanna go without you.” he whispers, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces at his soft plea for me to stay. But I know its useless.

"I'm so sorry, baby." The words feel forced out of my mouth with how much effort it takes it whisper them, "You gotta go. And I have to stay."

"Ollie, please..." He whispers, and I press a kiss to the spot on his helmet where his lips would be, then take his gloved hand on my waist and lift it to my lips and kiss his hidden knuckles. The barrier feels unfair, but I'm doing what I can.

"As soon as I can be, I will be by your side." I say as Jon reappears, the ambulance coming up screaming besides us.

"You promise?" Lando says under the sirens and the shouting and I nod.

"I swear on my life."

That's what ends up being enough, because Lando finally lets go of me after one more final kiss to the 'mouth' of his helmet. The medics and EMTs swarm us, carefully moving Lando who groans and gasps in pain. I can't imagine what injuries he might have as they slowly and carefully load him into the back of the ambulance. Jon speaks with Lando all the while, and right before the doors slam he turns to me and shouts,

"I've got him, Olivia!"

And all I can do is nod, blinking back tears as the doors shut. The second they're pulling away I find myself crying, full body shaking that wrecks me, and I manage to be pulled into the sanctuary of the Red Bull garage by Kylie and a few other employees before it can really be taken advantage of for media points.

But I know I'll keep on my promise. Especially when Christian tells me to just do one thing.

"Go."

taglist (thank you!)

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#f1 fanfic #formula 1 #ln4 fic #lando norris x oc #lando norris fic #f1 smau #ln4 smau #ln4 fanfic #lando norris smau #lando norris au #lando norris fanfic

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unreliablesnake · 5 months

Text

You're mine (Tangerine x reader)

Summary: It always begins with a drink, continues with something stupid, and ends in the bedroom. But when you having a boyfriend endangers your situationship, Tangerine decides to show you who you belong to.

Note: I was listening to Bad Memories months ago and had this idea. Today I finished this story. I hope you'll like it. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Warning: if you squint, there's a smutish part. f!reader. i didn't do any proofreading. oops.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Lemon warned.

Tangerine didn’t care much about these words while he buttoned up his vest. It was past nine when he had called to see if you were up to going out and having some fun with him, and ever since then, Lemon had done nothing but voice his concern regarding this little plan of his.

And just as he put on his favorite striped blue jacket, Lemon went on. “You go out with her, you drink a lot, you do some stupid shit, and then you spend the next weeks dwelling on her going back to whatever guy she’s fucking at the moment,” he explained.

“I’m not dwelling on anything, for fuck's sake,” Tangerine stated with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t care about who she’s with, I’m not looking for a relationship.”

Lemon snorted at this. “Then why do you always look like a kicked puppy whenever you see pictures of her and her boyfriend on social media?” he asked with a questioning look.

He opened his mouth to respond to this, but eventually Tangerine decided to remain silent. It wasn’t worth the fight, he was in too good of a mood for that. So he picked up his phone from the coffee table, waved goodbye, and left the apartment they shared.

As he was heading to the bar where you were supposed to meet, Lemon’s words came to his mind to haunt him. He would have never admitted it, but his brother was right. He hated to see you with someone else despite your relationship always being casual.

The cool spring air helped him calm down, the barely detectable panic about what would happen after tonight disappearing without a trace. You were good for him, especially after spending a lot of time doing job after job. You were his stress relief, a little vixen who could make him feel oh-so-good with just one intoxicating kiss.

And tonight he wanted to take his time enjoying you in every possible way, from drinking to sex, he had several ideas about how to fill the night. You were usually down for anything, that was one of the things he fucking loved about you. He had once stolen a motorcycle someone left unattended when you were out together, while another time you broke into a public bath to skinny dip in the middle of the night.

Inside the bar he sat down at a table, his phone in hand as he waited for you to arrive. He was early, he knew that, but he simply couldn't wait to see you again. Fuck, maybe Lemon was right, maybe he was taking it a little more seriously than he should have.

After all, he was painfully aware of the lack of posts on your social media accounts. In the past two weeks or so you hadn't posted a damn thing, so he had no idea what was going on in your life.

And then, after about fifteen minutes of agonizing waiting, his eyes finally fell on you. You were breathtaking in the tight red dress you were wearing, sliding through the crowd with ease and grace, and his mouth was already watering at the thought of having you at his mercy at one point tonight.

“Well, hello, stranger,” you greeted him happily, moving closer to give him a hug once he stood up.

Tangerine let his arms wrap around you a little tighter than usual, palms flat against your back as he pulled you into his chest. He inhaled the scent of your perfume, then let his lips brush your cheek as he pulled away.

You didn't make a big deal out of this move of his, in fact, you acted like nothing even happened. When you let go of him and stepped back to put your purse on the table, he felt terrible from the sudden lack of contact. Normally you would be all over him by now, what the hell was different this time?

“Is everything okay?” he asked cautiously.

You flashed a bright and beautiful smile at him. “Everything's great. I'll get a drink then we can talk.”

He raised his hand to stop you from leaving. “No, please, let me handle that. The usual?” You nodded without thinking. “I'll be right back.”

There was no ring on your finger, he checked that. So if you weren't engaged, then why were you keeping your distance? Were you in a serious relationship? Shaking his head with a groan, Tangerine walked over to the bar and tried to get these thoughts out of his mind. He wasn't in love with you, why would it matter if you were seeing someone?

It had been four months since you had last met, maybe you just needed a drink or two to loosen up a bit. Yes, this must have been it.

When he returned with your drink, he saw you type something on your phone with a loving smile on your lips. He had seen that smile in photos before every time you were in a serious relationship. The little green-eyed monster awakened inside him, making him angry that you had someone in your life now.

He came to a sudden halt a few feet from the table as realization hit him like a train. He did care about whether or not you were in a relationship with someone else. Fuck, that was never the plan. This was supposed to be a casual thing, just two adults having fun every now and then without emotions being involved.

Maybe he should focus on having a perfectly innocent conversation with you, and once his glass becomes empty, he should leave and go to another bar to pick up someone who was available. Just a one-night stand to release some stress, nothing more.

“Tan, you okay?” you asked when you put down the phone with a frown.

He put on a fake smile and nodded. “Yeah, I'm good, just thought I saw someone I know over there,” he lied. Once he handed you your cocktail, he took his place and folded his hands on the table. “What's going on with you lately? You barely post anything on social media, I'm not used to that.”

You let out a laugh before taking a sip of your drink. “My boyfriend likes to keep his private life private. Thought I should try what that's like. So far so good,” you reported to his surprise.

You had always been the type of woman who wasn't afraid to show off online, making your friends and acquaintances jealous for you having such an exciting life. You didn't have a nine-to-five job, you were living off of the money you inherited from your late and rich uncle who had no children or wife, but liked you very much.

“So it's pretty serious, huh? I'm surprised. Even in serious relationships you never had a problem with living your life like you wanted. And never cared about having fun with whoever you liked,” Tangerine added, immediately regretting being this straightforward without discussing what would happen later tonight.

“Yeah, well, people change. I was a bitch for cheating on my exes. I would never do this to Oliver,” you told him with a sigh.

He flinched when he heard the last part. “He has a name. Good to know.”

Suddenly you leaned forward and narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you jealous?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head, hoping this would be enough for now. But you didn't buy it. “I know this was a booty call, Tan, but I literally wrote it in the message that I'm meeting you as a friend this time. You didn't reply so I thought you were okay with this,” you told him with a hand on your forehead.

“You never sent me that message,” he said as he picked up his phone and opened the messaging app to show you the conversation.

And sure enough, you quickly realized he never received that one. You glanced at your own device and let out a groan when you noticed the goddamn app didn't send it. “I'm so sorry. I feel stupid.”

Tangerine reached out to put a hand on yours. “You're not stupid. But answer me this. Does he fuck you as good as I do?” he asked, deciding that being bold was the right move in this game if he wanted to get his fix from you. But you didn't answer, you didn't even look him in the eye. “Come on, love, answer me. Does he make you come as hard and as many times as I do?”

When you still refused to answer, he let go of your hand so he could pull his chair next to yours to wrap an arm around your shoulder while his other hand grabbed your chin. He leaned so close to you that his lips almost touched yours. You froze like a deer in the headlights, your eyes locked on his piercing blue ones.

“Just one more night. One more, and if you still don't want anything from me, I'll disappear for good,” he told you quietly, but with such confidence that he already knew he won.

But you hesitated. You still hesitated and he hated it. You hadn't been like this before, back in the day you would have said yes without thinking. So he did the only thing he could think of–he kissed you. His lips were moving slowly against yours, tongue swiping over your bottom lip to gain access to your mouth.

“Tan,” you tried weakly as you pushed him away a little.

This only made him more determined to get you. So he put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you closer again, gripping you tightly enough to make it impossible to escape. You gave in eventually, your lips moving in perfect sync, just like in the good old days. This was all he wanted, you submitting to him once again.

Just when you buried your fingers in his neatly combed hair, you moved on to kiss his jaw before you moved closer to his ear. “I fucking hate you,” you whispered.

“Not for long, trust me,” he said with a satisfied smirk when he looked you in the eye.

Since you had a serious relationship now, you couldn't go to your place so the neighbors wouldn't accidentally talk about your little affair, while his home was also out of the question because Lemon was there. So he did the only thing he could think of and took you to a nearby hotel. He was looking for something fancy, something that would be good enough for you.

He ordered champagne, but only after the first glass he was all over you again and you didn't stop him. Tonight was all about proving to you he put you first, that drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you with only his fingers and mouth was all he wanted.

Then came the begging. You were whining weakly under his touch, overstimulated and needy, eventually begging him to finally fuck you. And Tangerine was more than happy to give you what you asked for, ready to make you cock drunk and brainless. Once he was done with you, you wouldn't even remember that stupid boyfriend of yours.

In the morning he woke up to a phone buzzing nearby. It wasn't his, he knew that since it was on the nightstand, so it must have been yours. He glanced over at you, but you were still sleeping, so he got out of bed to check your bag. When he saw the name Oliver on the screen, he couldn't hold back a laugh.

A laugh that successfully woke you up.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily as you rubbed your eyes.

Tangerine showed you the phone. “Your boyfriend wants to talk to you. Do you wanna talk to him?” When you opened your mouth to respond, he was quick to interrupt you. “Or we can forget he called and pick up where we left off last night,” he offered with a mischievous smile.

Three hours later he stumbled through the front door of his apartment, meeting Lemon in the living room. He had been watching TV, but now his eyes were focused on him, the disapproving look making Tangerine almost nervous. He raised an eyebrow, waiting to hear the lecture he knew his brother was already preparing in his head.

“Good news or bad news?” was all he asked in the end.

Tangerine flashed a smug smirk at him. “She's still mine.”

#tangerine x reader #tangerine #bullet train #lemon #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #bullet train movie

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cobaltperun · 14 days

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Lost (24) - Landing in London

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 2.5k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-And when the night falls in around me, I don't think I'll make it through, I'll use your light to guide the way, 'Cause all I think about is you-

She used to be lonely as a child. Woodsboro was a small place, children often met through parents, and her mother had her when she was young. So, Sam was lonely, Sam was alone, quickly learning that she couldn’t really go to anyone for company. Kids at kindergarten talked about watching cartoons with their parents, but Sam never had that. Her father, the only father she ever knew, even if she wasn’t his biological daughter, did his best, gave up on his dreams so he could take care of her. Her mother did the same thing, working, coming back home, taking care of Sam. They didn’t really struggle, they weren’t rich, but they had plenty, but Sam was lonely.

And then the greatest gift Sam ever received in her life made the loneliness go away. Tara was born, a month earlier than she was supposed to be, and sickly, soon to be diagnosed with asthma, but she always, always looked at Sam with those expressive brown eyes and a happy smile that made Sam promise she would always protect her little sister.

Her parents didn’t count on a sick child though, they didn’t count on all the medical bills, on all the time they’d need to spend taking care of Tara and taking her from one doctor to another. Looking back, perhaps finding out Sam wasn’t his daughter was only the excuse her father needed to leave them, because he could no longer handle having a sick child and now that the other one wasn’t his, well, it just gave him another excuse. Not to mention Christina was starting to drink some time before he left. He ran away, never to be heard from again, and Sam hated him for leaving Tara like that.

So, with him gone, money became a bit of an issue, and the only reason people didn’t really notice was Christina’s inherited house. Hell, Sam had no idea until several years later that Christina took money for Sam babysitting Chad, Mindy, and Wes. Sam didn’t say anything, because that money was used to pay for Tara’s medicine, and Sam would always protect Tara.

That was how she, now an angry teenager swung first before asking any questions when she saw an unfamiliar kid talking to Tara. That kid turned out to be you, trying to help Tara, but Sam didn’t know that at the time. She wouldn’t have even remembered your first meeting if Tara wasn’t angry at her for attacking you like that.

It was almost funny how the two of you were so drawn together, how Tara, without even knowing your name got angry at Sam. Tara was shy though, but she kept seeing you every now and then, and even though she never approached you, she’d tell Sam she saw the ‘cool girl’ in the hall between classes.

Sam still remembered her anger when Tara, near the end of that year, and sicker than she was in a long time, told her how their mom didn’t pick her up from school and how she stood in the rain for an hour and a half. Yet, despite the temperature that was too high for home-made medicine, despite the cough and runny nose and all the other symptoms, Tara still looked happy, because she properly met you, and you carried her home in that rain. And when you dropped by the next day to check on Tara because she didn’t show up in school Sam saw the admiration in Tara’s eyes and somehow, without an explanation, she felt at peace.

And then you became a constant in Tara’s life, acting as her shield from the world. Sam remembered it as if it happened yesterday, the scene she walked into a few months before she left.

~X~

Tara hadn’t been this sick in a long time, she couldn’t even lie down without having a coughing fit, but Sam couldn’t panic. She couldn’t do much more than pick up medicine or make Tara some tea. She had to put faith in her mother to take care of Tara, because sooner rather than later Sam would leave and Tara would be left only with their mother.

She still called her mother, just to ask how Tara was.

“W-what is it,” her mother answered and hiccupped, drunk, and Sam’s blood ran cold.

“Where are you? What about Tara?!” Sam demanded, for a moment wondering if she really could kill her mother, because she wanted nothing more than to do that, and that desire frightened her, strengthened her need to get away from Tara to protect her.

“At home, she’s fine~,” her mother drawled and Sam wanted to crush her phone, to let her rage out, instead, she just ran home, barging in and running upstairs to Tara’s room. She didn’t hear coughing, she didn’t hear anything as she ran down the hallway, and she was frightened of what she would find when she opened the doors, but instead of Tara in pain or not breathing at all, she found Tara with you.

You were sitting in a not so comfortable position, leaning back against the rather uncomfortable headboard. You held a pillow to your chest, and Tara was right there, leaning on it and sleeping peacefully, half lying down, half sitting, but not coughing. She had the yellow teddy bear Sam bought her years ago next to her, and she was holding your hand. From the corner of her eyes Sam noticed an almost eaten plate of soup, one that her mother definitely didn’t make. It was from a local restaurant, so you must have bought it for Tara.

Sam’s knees nearly buckled from relief, but the look in your eyes made her freeze, you were angry, but you couldn’t move.

It was you. When Tara was sick and left alone by her mother, she didn’t call Sam, she called you, and you came. With how sick Tara was, she barely remembered calling you, she vaguely remembered you were there, but she most certainly didn’t remember sleeping while leaning back on you.

~X~

The next time Sam saw you and Tara like that was after Tara was attacked, only there wasn’t a pillow between you two this time. Sam could never repay you for how much you cared for Tara while she was gone, because she was sure you’ve spent countless sleepless nights taking care of sick Tara, or simply keeping her company when she felt alone, abandoned by everyone else.

Tara was always the happiest when you were with her, and Sam would forever cherish the memory of Tara laughing while the two of you danced at your wedding.

It was, naturally, a small wedding, the two of you, her and Danny, Chad with his girlfriend at the time, Mindy, Anika, Gale, Sidney with her family, and Kirby. And Tara looked more beautiful than ever, laughing, unable to keep the smile off her face for a moment, and her happiness was contagious.

Sam would have given everything she had to go back to those times, to the time when Ghostface was a thing of the past, and not a threat she once again had to deal with. To sit at the dinner table with Tara and you, making plans for whatever you wanted to do this week, instead of sitting at her computer, yet again realizing that the cult dedicated to Ghostface actually existed.

She should have known it was only a matter of time before he came back, and in the darkness of the night she looked at her window, seeing him there. Her real father, taunting her, putting the mask on her reflection, his mask, the same mask she put on when she killed Bailey.

“I like the design,” the monster told her, and she knew exactly what he was talking about, the dog painted on the mask, proving the belonging to the cult.

Sam got up abruptly, her chair scrapping against the floor. She needed to tell Tara and you, she needed to make sure you were ready and careful. She found you and Tara in the living room, on the sofa, with Tara sitting on your lap and flipping through a magazine while you hugged her from behind and rested your chin on her shoulder, occasionally kissing Tara on the cheek or the side of her neck.

“Sam? What’s wrong? You look worried,” Tara noticed, of course Tara noticed.

Sam should have told her right then and there, she should have told Tara everything. How she’s been lurking online, looking for any signs of Ghostface coming back, how she saw her father more and more often and the medicine was no longer working as well as it used to. Instead, seeing how happy you two were, she shook her head, staying quiet. “Just something at my job. What got you two so excited?” she tried to put on a smile.

Tara and you remained silent, as if exchanging a silent conversation by just briefly glancing at one another. “We’re having a baby!” Tara’s words shattered what little sense of relaxation Sam had left.

Tara would more than likely be the one getting pregnant. She’d be in even more danger than usual, and the child would be in the constant danger from Ghostface, no matter where Tara and you moved to.

“Sam?” you spoke up when Sam didn’t respond.

“Oh! Sorry! That’s great! Congratulations!” she put on a fake smile, but her mind was already creating plans to infiltrate the cult. She’d just take the place of the one with the dog on the mask. She just needed to find him or her first.

~X~

She did it, she easily killed the woman that had the mask with the dog, but it also frightened her, because the woman was only a few miles away from where Tara and you lived. She moved there two weeks ago, and Sam was willing to bet she was going to attack Tara and you, or Sam herself, soon.

Sam stopped her before she could try. It was ridiculously easy, the woman was nowhere near as capable as anyone she faced before, seeing as Sam easily took her by surprise. And she got lucky, the cult meetings required the mask to be on at all times, and that they would use a voice changer, which meant no one really knew who the other Ghostfaces were. But she got into the cult, and though she wanted to start slaughtering them, she couldn’t get close to anyone without raising suspicions.

And then an opportunity that she couldn’t pass up on came up. The leader wanted to kill your father, and then get your mother to give him as much money as she could in return for her life. That would fund the next step of the leader’s plan.

Sam volunteered, killing your father in an apartment falsely rented in your name, in cold blood, stabbing him multiple times, taking her revenge for everything he and your mother did to you. Taking her revenge for them hiring Thomas and making Tara cry while you were in a coma, for making her cry for you, for nearly successfully arranging your murder… She may have stabbed him a few times too many in her fury.

“That’s enough, Ghost-Dog,” Ghostface pulled her away from the body and she shook him off, wiping the knife clean of blood and breathing heavily as she stepped away.

“Still, this will look convincing. Now, I’ll go deal with the Mrs. L/N, you need to get Y/N L/N t come here,” his words made her heart stop for a moment.

Why did he want you there? What did he plan to do?

“Ghost-Dog? Call Y/N and get out of here, let the police do the rest,” she could hear the confusion in his voice even through the voice changer-

They were framing you? They were making sure you were locked up?

But Tara was pregnant! You couldn’t protect her from jail!

Still, if she didn’t follow the orders she’d lose her chance and Tara would be in an even greater danger.

So, Sam nodded. “Yes, sir,” she spoke evenly, once again seeing her father tauntingly smirking at her.

When the leader left and Sam was sure she was left alone she turned off the voice changer and called you.

“Sam?” you sounded relieved to hear her. “Do you have any idea how worried Tara is, you asshole. Come back home!” you still scolded her, and despite blood dripping from her hand Sam still smiled a bit. If she could protect Tara, if she could only protect Tara…

“I don’t have time to talk, I need you to come and meet me somewhere, right now,” she didn’t need to fake urgency, she knew exactly what she was doing, she knew it would be unforgivable, that you would never trust her again, but she still set up the trap for you. And you walked into it, like a fool that trusted her.

~X~ March, 2027, present day ~X~

Sam sat at a bar, drowning her sorrow in whiskey. Danny was dead, Tara was captured, and she had no idea where she was. After getting you framed she became somewhat of a second in command, seeing as she basically took care of the greatest threat, so she wasn’t assigned to whatever location they were holding Tara in.

She tried to keep Tara safe, and all it accomplished was the death of her boyfriend and her beloved, pregnant, sister, now being in more danger than ever before. Everything she touched she ruined, that was the summary of her life and she felt awful.

“Your tip saved Sidney’s life,” she heard Kirby’s voice coming from the side and just barely lifted her head to look at the FBI agent.

“And Gale?” she asked, even though she felt the answer in her bones.

“Dead. It took too long for my mole, Ghost-Wolf, to take the snake mask and go after them,” Kirby sat down in front of her and slumped back against the chair. “Things aren’t so bleak though. Our newest ally found Y/N,” she manage to smile a bit, despite the circumstances.

Sam nodded. She failed to protect Tara, but you would be able to do it. You’d keep Tara and your child safe. “Good, I’ll finish this, three nights from now,” she decided right then and there, she’d put and end to the cult, or die trying.

A/N: Well, there you have it, the part of the puzzle related to Sam.

Taglist: @alexkolax

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x female reader #scream #jenna ortega x reader #sam carpenter

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nexility-sims · 21 days

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𝐍𝐎. 𝟑 ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜ | NAKAWE, 2023

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ Karolina Teague was hardly famous. Her name carried a certain heft among culture critics whose heyday had passed, but she liked the anonymity that came with being washed up. All of her favorite people were has-beens, after all, and she wasn’t ashamed to spend her time reminiscing about days past with them or anyone else who would listen. Today, she welcomed a whole crew of listeners into her Nakawe home—a film crew to be exact, led by a director-producer duo who had known her name well before a previous interviewee mentioned it to them. She wouldn’t be the star of their documentary, but they believed from its inception that the story wouldn’t be complete without her thoughts.

❧ honestly very proud of the scrapbooking !!!! this is basically just shameless exposition, but i am convinced i picked a creative vehicle for it :^) i watched that 90s docuseries on hulu a year ago and this specific story post was born fjdhjf anyway, canonically, no one would be writing or printing in script like that but i am simply NOT that committed to my worldbuilding sdkjfsf consider this whole thing an english language reimagining (^:

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Karolina took them on a tour of her colorful seaside house, one concluding in a room already set up for their perusal. It was the archive, she explained. This was what they came for; her recollections were valuable, but she had so much more than her own memories. Photographs waited on the tables, and an old television screen teased some scene from exclusive VHS tapes. Karolina plopped down onto a sofa and gestured widely, saying, “Have a look. I’m ready when you are.”

The director, a woman named Ildaria, picked up a photograph.

“Can you tell us about her?”

Karolina beckoned for the photo, and Ildaria walked over to hand it to her. For a moment, she peered at it, keeping everyone in suspense. Finally, she replied, “Sure. What’s she going to do, sue me?”

“Maybe,” a cameraman elsewhere in the room snorted.

“I’ll take the risk,” Karolina laughed. “Look, I don’t know Princess Leonor, but I met her plenty of times. She was at The Den at least half the nights in 1991, for sure. Probably into 1992, but I didn’t really keep track of her comings and goings. Definitely not after 1993.”

The producer, Eilo, held up another photograph. “What’s the story here?” he asked.

Karolina reached for it. Unlike the other photo, this one was a proper candid. There were several people in the frame, but Leonor was at the center, kneeling by a table with her hand draped across Renzo’s thigh as he held her head in his palm and said something beyond the capture of still photography.

“It wasn’t anything formal,” Karolina explained. “Renzo didn’t date anyone in those days, and I don’t think she did either. They liked each other. It was mutual fascination with zero understanding, is how I saw it. They hung out—liked each other’s company. Hot and fast, burned out quick, that’s what it looked like.” She shrugged. “That was Renzo.”

“And Leonor?” Ildaria asked, having sat down nearby.

“Like I said,” Karolina began. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “I didn't know her. Seemed like a cool girl. I’m older, mind you. I think she wanted to get a little wild and try new things—this is off the record—and The Den was for her what it was for everyone. You could kick your shoes off. Scream along to your buddy’s new song, have a movie star tell you his woes while he pours your drink, get high in the dressing room and probably be fine—”

“Did she do that?” Ildaria’s eyes were wide.

Karolina cleared her throat. “No, of course not. Not everyone did! Enough, sure. We all know the quote-unquote horror stories.”

The crew listened, rapt, having stopped flipping through albums and poking around the bookcases, eager to hear something explosive. They had set out to make a documentary about a particular time and place. The Den at the turn of the century was their subject. That glorious decade solidified its place in celebrity culture, to say nothing of its place in music history. The princess was just a footnote in that story. Nonetheless, it was a tantalizing footnote. Most people below a certain age were shocked to hear that she hadn’t been a humorless, buttoned-up bureaucrat her entire life. The idea that someone whose day job involved keeping the country afloat may have once been young and reckless intrigued. That she was adjacent to the salacious stories of sex, drugs, and rock and roll they knew better nearly crossed the line into unbelievable. Yet, people in Uspana also knew their royals had been wrapped up in the glamor of celebrity for decades. Even now, they continued to rub elbows with rock stars, including the one elder princess who was herself a music star.

“She’s a different person now, clearly,” Karolina continued. She spoke tentatively still but nonetheless addressed what everyone wanted to know. “But, for a time, she was at The Den with everyone else, drinking too much and carrying around a pharmacy in whatever cute purse you had that night. You may remember there was a big Reyes death around then. It’s like—when my mother died in 2009, I lost my shit, too.”

Karolina shrugged again. “She was having fun. I was doing worse, alright, so I only feel judgmental about it insofar as she’d probably be embarrassed if you asked her about any of it today. Royals are supposed to do their sniffing in private, right, not in a bathroom Renzo forgot to hire someone to clean. She was snobby, but my sense was that she liked pretending she wasn’t—roleplay, you know, transgressing or whatever.”

Someone coughed. The rifling through materials resumed. Ildaria and Eilo shared a look.

“You haven’t talked to her since ‘92?” Ildaria asked. Eilo, meanwhile, had pulled out his cell phone and was typing with fast fingers.

Karolina shook her head. “So, she knew I’d asked Renzo to let me collect photos and bring along my Zenith. I got a weird email in 2000 inquiring about them from someone who worked for her.” She grinned, then added as an aside, “Only one recording, by the way. The Den had a strict no video policy.”

“We’d like to see them sometime,” Ildaria responded.

Karolina nodded, then shook her head and clarified, “Which—my tapes or the email?”

Eilo answered without looking up, “Both.”

He finished what he was doing after a moment of quiet, then held his phone up for Ildaria and Karolina to see. “Seems like she’s still in touch with people,” he said.

They leaned forward to view the screen while he swiped at it, then Karolina laughed. “Okay, maybe she just didn’t like me!”

While they watched, Eilo moved through a hastily thrown together slideshow of the princess with various people Karolina knew well. Some looked like event photos. Others were captured with long lenses—paparazzi shots that made money but didn’t always generate enough interest if the other person was a comparative nobody. Not everyone had evolved in the last thirty years. Plenty of people who visited the bar during the decade of Renzo’s ownership continued to have flourishing careers. They were, at the time, young and beautiful and painfully unprepared for the lifetime of celebrity ahead of them. That’s what they brought to this place more than anything: their pain, which, being creative types, they eagerly spun into something beautiful and private.

That’s what The Den gave them. These impossibly talented, dedicated stars created fleeting things for each other and no one else. Bands and dance troupes formed. An endless stream of songs and poetry and performance art kept the bar’s little stage occupied nightly for years. Offstage, people with no reason to meet in the real world bonded in this space of both contrived and undeniable intimacy. For some, the reprieve helped them endure the difficulty of becoming that invariably attended a rise in fame. It was detrimental to others. These were the ones who didn’t evolve—people who gave up their relevance to live forever in this meaningless, generative privacy or people who couldn’t make the choice and lost everything in the process.

Karolina hadn’t evolved, but she hadn’t died or wanted to die either. From her perspective, what people like the princess and even Renzo himself had done wasn’t evolution. It was more like a revelation. People don’t change, she would tell Eilo and Ildaria later, over dinner, when the conversation had moved far away from the royal footnote. She believed people just uncover deeper truths about themselves, knowingly or unknowingly, and those became harder to conceal once they were exposed.

Have you felt that way before? she asked them. Exposed, like when you break your leg so hard the bone snaps right through your skin? They had. The conversation detoured to childhood misadventures, but Karolina had a point to make. She pulled them back. Some people get comfortable with that feeling and learn how to live in it. Other people, you know, they deny and lie and call it growth. That’s my opinion. I’ve seen it—artists are the worst for it, I swear. Artists who don’t want to be artists anymore? Worse than that.

Can I say you sound bitter? Ildaria laughed.

Now, Karolina threw her hands up. She exclaimed, joyful, That’s my truth, baby! I took too many bites of the world, and I’ve been disgusted by it ever since. Some people come out of their mamas malcontent.

Later that night, Eilo was exhausted, but Ildaria’s hand hovered over the light switch with uncertainty. She heaved a big, put-upon sigh, then asked, “Is it bad that I want to give Mencia Cipac a call?”

“Give her a call?” Eilo snorted. “Sure, Mencia Cipac, whose number you totally have, definitely won’t ignore your calls because she, for sure, knows who you are and has endless free time to spare.” He sat up straighter, then added, “No more overloading on projects. You promised. Besides, you don’t wanna poke that bear.”

“Not a bear,” Ildaria retorted. “A jaguar. Roar!”

TRANSCRIPT:

KAROLINA | Have a look. I'm ready when you are.

RENZO (O.S.) | Get that thing out of here, Karolina!

ILDARIA | Can you tell us about her?

KAROLINA | Sure. What's she going to do, sue me? CAMERAMAN | Maybe.

KAROLINA | I'll take the risk.

KAROLINA | Look, I don’t know Princess Leonor, but I met her plenty of times. She was at The Den at least half the nights in 1991, for sure. Probably into 1992, but I didn’t really keep track of her comings and goings. Definitely not after 1993

EILO | What's the story here?

KAROLINA | It wasn't anything formal.

KAROLINA | Renzo didn’t date anyone in those days, and I don’t think she did either. They liked each other. It was mutual fascination with zero understanding, is how I saw it. They hung out—liked each other’s company. Hot and fast, burned out quick, that’s what it looked like. That was Renzo.

ILDARIA | And Leonor?

KAROLINA | Like I said, I didn't know her. Seemed like a cool girl. I’m older, mind you. I think she wanted to get a little wild and try new things—this is off the record—and The Den was for her what it was for everyone. You could kick your shoes off. Scream along to your buddy’s new song, have a movie star tell you his woes while he pours your drink, get high in the dressing room and probably be fine—

ILDARIA | Did she do that?

KAROLINA | No, of course not. Not everyone did! Enough, sure. We all know the quote-unquote horror stories.

KAROLINA | She's a different person now, clearly. But, for a time, she was at The Den with everyone else, drinking too much and carrying around a pharmacy in whatever cute purse you had that night. You may remember there was a big Reyes death around then. It’s like—when my mother died in 2009, I lost my shit, too.

KAROLINA | She was having fun. I was doing worse, alright, so I only feel judgmental about it insofar as she’d probably be embarrassed if you asked her about any of it today. Royals are supposed to do their sniffing in private, right, not in a bathroom Renzo forgot to hire someone to clean. She was always a snob, but I my sense was that she liked pretending she wasn’t—roleplay, you know, transgressing or whatever.

ILDARIA | You haven't talked to her since '92?

KAROLINA | So, she knew I’d asked Renzo to let me collect photos and bring along my Zenith. I got a weird email in 2000 inquiring about them from someone who worked for her. Only one recording, by the way. The Den had a strict no video policy.

ILDARIA | We'd like to see them sometime.

KAROLINA | Which—my tapes or the email?

EILO | Both.

EILO | Seems like she's still in touch with people. KAROLINA | Okay, maybe she just didn’t like me!

ILDARIA | Is it bad that I want to give Mencia Cipac a call?

EILO | Give her a call?

EILO | Sure, Mencia Cipac, whose number you totally have, definitely won’t ignore your calls because she, for sure, knows who you are and has endless free time to spare.

EILO | No more overloading on projects. You promised. Besides, you don’t wanna poke that bear.

ILDARIA | Not a bear. A jaguar. Roar!

#ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e04

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

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I'll Carry Your Heart with Me (Until I Find You Again): Part 3

And this is the third and final part of my hundred follower celebratory writing. The fic will continue past this, but it will be a while before I can return to it. I want to get back to Ghost!Robin and Bring Me Home first. This was a blast to write, though.

The angst starts here. Parts 1 and 2 were fun and fluffy. But things take a turn here. And it'll be quite a while before our boys can get back to happier times.

Mostly Jason POV with a short section from Danny's.

3.8k words. There wasn't a great place to break it up.

First, Previous

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Jason sighed as Danny flew out of his range of awareness, leaving him alone in his lair again. Though… he touched his lips which still tingled with cold and smiled to himself. At least this time he was left with some pleasant memories.

Turning his back to the swirling void, he entered the brick building that housed the most important parts of his home from before. Ignoring the kitchen, he walked through a door and into his bedroom. It was the only place he had yet to show Danny.

Though maybe he should change that?

He flopped down on his bed and touched his lips again before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. God, he felt like a teenage girl. Was this why Dick liked to meet up with girls? Jason had kissed girls a few times before, but with Danny… It just felt so much better.

Maybe it was because his mouth was cool? Kissing him felt like a drink of fresh spring water on a hot day. Or perhaps it was the way they could project their feelings while kissing. And not needing to breathe was definitely nice.

He sighed and moved until he was staring up at the ceiling. How in all the realms was Danny interested in him? A dumb kid who got in over his head and died because of it.

Danny was still alive, too. With a sigh, he pushed himself up. He didn’t want his thoughts to go this way—he wanted to bask in their first kisses some more.

Would Danny get too old for him?

Alfred would have been able to set him right. Let him know if this was doomed from the start or if he might actually have something. And Dick… Well, first he’d tease. But after. They’d go to the gym and when he was tired out and sweaty, they’d go and get milkshakes or something and Dick would give surprisingly helpful advice. The type he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask Alfred or Bruce.

Bruce would be insufferable, of course. He’d insist on researching everything he could about Danny. Would probably stalk him, too. But after he was convinced Danny wasn’t trying to take advantage, he’d tell Jason to invite him for dinner. He thought they’d probably get along, too. While their personalities were quite different, their morals were a perfect match.

But no. He’d never get any of that. Because he had to be an idiot and die.

Though… did death have to be permanent? Danny had come back after all. And hadn’t several members of the Justice League died at one point before returning to life?

Could he do that?

Restless now, he got out of bed and made his way to the gym. These were the types of thoughts that only made sense when he was doing something physical. One routine in particular was his “thinking routine.” His dad would always call Alfred in if he saw Jason doing this one. How would he be able to come back?

Most of the stories he heard required something happen to the body on Earth. But he didn’t have that option. He was limited to the Infinite Realms. But… these lands were infinite. There had to be someone or something here that could help him. Maybe there’d be some information in Ghost Writer’s lair? What other ghosts had Danny told him about?

And then he remembered: Desiree. He froze, leg in the air as he was halfway through a kick. If he’d still been human, he would’ve fallen on his face.

Desiree had been able to rewrite reality so that Danny and Sam had never met. In doing so, she’d erased his death from ever happening. If she could do that, bringing Jason back from the dead would have to be a piece of cake. So long as he phrased his wish correctly.

Now that he had a new mission, he fell out of his fighting stance and made his way to the library. He had a wish with a genie to craft.

-----

With how time never seemed to work right in the Realms, Jason wasn’t sure how long it took him to craft his wish. But he finally had it. And this one shouldn’t backfire on him.

I wish I was alive again with a healthy body and intact mind.

Though he did continue trying to think it through. Would it be possible to twist this one? If it was, Desiree would find away. At least if Danny’s stories could be believed. And Ember and Kitty insisted that Danny downplayed his stories more than anything.

Which was hard to believe, even as a former Robin.

Now he had to find Desiree. And as much as he wracked his brain, he didn’t think Danny had given him any sort of clue as to where her lair might be located. And he didn’t want to just ask someone straight out. They’d try and dissuade him from going. Even worse since the only ghosts he really knew were ones Danny introduced him to. Apparently it was normal for a ghost to not leave their lair much for the first few years after death, so he hadn’t yet done much exploring of the Realms.

Though Danny had once tried to sketch him a vague map. Apparently things in the Realms had a tendency to move around a lot, but clusters did form among people of similar background. Medieval European ghosts clustered together in one area, Kryptonians could be found somewhere else, and so on.

Now, where did the ghosts from the Middle East gather? He looked over the map Danny had given him and chewed his lip as he tried to figure out where things were in relation to him. No sun or cardinal directions made it so much harder to orient anything. Which was probably the point.

But he did have some anchors to recognize. After being to Ghost Writer’s domain, he could find that again. And he’d once gone to visit Kitty and Johnny with Danny. So that was another point of reference.

Finally, he thought he had at least enough of an idea to get close. It would have to do, though Bruce would have insisted on more research.

But Bruce wasn’t here which was the entire point.

Well, that and he didn’t want Danny to get older and not want to date or kiss him anymore. It’d be fine for a few years, but what about when Danny was twenty or forty or whatever and Jason was still the same fifteen year old kid?

He shook his head. That didn’t matter because he’d be able to grow up, too. Dick would be there to tease him about his boyfriend. And Alfred would give him a hug and his favorite meal. And Bruce would help him finish school and get into a good college and would celebrate every passing grade with him.

With those pleasant thoughts, he exited his lair. He gave it one last look before setting off in the direction he believed would lead him to Desiree.

He hadn’t been traveling very long when he approached a lair who’s ghost was sending off such strong stay-away vibes that Jason was forced to go around. Putting him quite far off course. The ghost must have been strong to control such a large area of the Zone.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to reorient himself to get back on track.

Which is when he heard a menacing chuckle from behind him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the whelp’s friend. You’d make such good bait. With you at the center of my trap, I may actually catch the boy and finally get his pelt for my wall.”

Jason spun, Robin costume appearing as he did. Behind him, his cape flared. “And you must be Skulker. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have.” Although his face was just a mecha suit, it grinned viciously. “But you will not find me so easy to escape.” Compartments on Skulker’s shoulders opened and a flurry of small missiles flew out at him.

A wave of Jason’s hand brought up a shield that easily deflected the projectiles. He turned invisible and quickly changed position, sending his own ectoblasts back at Skulker. After months of sparing with Danny, he knew how to handle himself in a ghost fight. He could even hold his own against Johnny when he came to visit.

Of course, fighting with Skulker was not on the agenda for today. He just wanted to get to Desiree.

“Can’t you see that I have better things to do today? Go bug Ember or something!” shouted Jason.

The only response he got was another missile sent his way. Only this one tracked him. Reaching into his core, Jason sent out a burst of flame, exploding it before it could get too close. There had to be something he could do to end this battle sooner rather than later.

At the very least, he could get some distance between himself and Skulker. He retreated a bit, wishing that the Realms had more cover instead of being mostly open void.

And then he felt it. The stay-away feeling from the lair he’d avoided earlier. Skulker shouted something else, though Jason didn’t bother to pay attention to the words. Instead, he made his way closer to the lair. To his satisfaction, Skulker followed.

It wouldn’t do to project his own presence, so Jason pulled in on his power, keeping it coiled tightly around his core. He focused hard on not projecting any emotions. Danny taught him how to hide his presence from other ghosts in order to prank Dani who had tagged along to visit.

Now, to make Skulker really mad. Jason turned to face his attacker and stuck out his tongue and waved his hands next to his head. “Na, na, na, na, na, na!” he called.

“Whelp!” roared the other ghost as he pulled out a huge bazooka and shot several blasts.

Jason immediately turned invisible and pulled his aura in even tighter, flying away from his position as fast as possible.

Not even a moment later, a loud booming voice called out, “Who disturbs my peace?”

Jason didn’t wait to see what sort of ghost it was, he just focused on escaping. After who-knows-how-long flying, he slowed down and looked around. He couldn’t see Skulker anywhere. More cautiously, he let his aura expand again. There were some ghosts around, but none of them felt aggressive or seemed to pay him any mind.

Now he had to figure out where he was and how far off course he’d gotten. Looking around, the doors and buildings he could see all looked old. Stone walls and thatched roofs. Weathered wooden doors. So he was in the territory of older ghosts. Excellent. Though the architecture definitely looked more European than Middle Eastern.

He pushed on. No way was he going to turn back now.

After passing who knows how many lairs, he stopped for a moment to try and get his bearings. Obviously just continuing on was not going to work.

“Thine garb is unlike any I have seen,” commented a voice from behind him.

Jason spun and came face-to-face with an elderly woman who he couldn’t help but describe as matronly. Her dress was extremely old and she had a head wrap, though wisps of shadow instead of hair were just visible under the fabric.

“No, ma’am. I’m just passing through.”

“A pilgrimage? Where dost thou go?”

“I… yeah. I’m on a pilgrimage. I’m trying to find the Middle Eastern ghosts. Er… Constantinople? The Ottoman Empire?” He had no ideas what the countries would have been called back when this woman had been alive and hoped he got wasn’t completely off. “In life, I had some teachers from that area and I wanted to see if I could learn more in death.”

She nodded in understanding. “Much can be learned in death that life left no time for. But thou hast been turned around. Thine destination is not in this direction.”

“Can you direct me?”

She smiled. “Certainly.”

Though once she started explaining the path, Jason sent out a few curses to the ancients. Why couldn’t things stay still in the Realms? From their current position, he was supposed to go down until he came to a lair which was a stone tower that flew red flags. Then he had to spin in a circle clockwise five times. When he stopped, he might be facing Queen Dora’s city. In that case, he had to fly in the opposite direction.

But he might also end up facing a fortress made of black stones and guarded by skeletons. If that happened, he should go left. If he found himself facing a forest with a waterfall, he should continue straight past it.

And for each option, another half dozen instructions followed. Thank the ancients Bruce had tested him on memorizing complicated directions constantly as Robin. He wasn’t sure how else he would have found the way.

“Thank you,” he said once she had finished.

“May thine journey bring thee peace.” And she was gone.

Jason repeated her instructions, going straight down until he saw the tower with the red flags. He spun. And found himself facing a medieval European city with a black and purple dragon flying in circles over it. On her head was a golden crown: Queen Dora. He turned his back to the city and flew in the opposite direction.

It took so long to come across the next landmark he was told to look out for that he was afraid he had done something wrong. But he had no other guide, so he kept going.

And eventually he found it. And the next one. And the one after that.

And finally, he noticed a change in the architecture. The towers became more graceful. The materials they were made of changed.

“Desiree!” he called.

No one answered. He kept going.

Every so often he would call her name. He let his aura spread to see if he could sense any powerful ghosts. The few ghosts that were around disappeared as soon as they heard her name leave his mouth.

For the first time, he started to wonder if this was a bad idea.

Just when he was about to give it up and turn around, a presence made itself known.

Amusement, curiosity, entertainment surrounded him.

The mix of emotions sent a jolt of fear up his spine. It felt so similar to how The Joker would laugh when he got them in a trap. How he laughed when he laid that last trap; the glee he projected as he smashed Jason’s bones with a crowbar.

“Who calls me?” echoed a woman’s voice in the void around him.

Jason forced his back to remain straight as he faced the direction he could sense the presence in. “My name is Jason! Jason Todd and I have a wish.”

Smoke gathered before him forming into a giant woman with long black hair and bright green skin. She smiled at him; it sent shivers down Jason’s spine. “Lucky for you, wishes are my domain. What do you wish for, Jason Todd?”

If he still had a heart, it would be beating fast in his chest. As it was, he was glad he didn’t have to breathe. Far easier to hide how much he was starting to regret this journey.

But no. He needed to do this. All his reasons for being here still existed. It was far too late to turn back now. “I wish I was alive again with a healthy body and mind intact.”

“So you have wished it, so shall it be!” Desiree waved her hands and Jason was surrounded in a wave of power. It twined around him. He was spinning and wind tore at his clothes. He slammed his eyes shut as laughter echoed in the tornado. He curled up, trying to protect himself from the unrelenting power.

And then everything was silent. It was dark and he was lying on his back. He pushed up and yelped when his head hit something hard right above his head. Where was he? What was going on? He banged on the top of the box he was in.

He needed out. He pushed and screamed. Something shifted and he pushed harder. It was cold, why was it so cold? Something broke above his head and he coughed as dust fell into his mouth. He closed his eyes and mouth tight and kept pushing. The surface gave. It poured down on him, but he pushed his way up.

Nothing could keep him trapped. Never again. When had he been trapped before? Where was he? He pushed through and his hand reached the other side of whatever he’d been trapped in. He pushed more. His other hand was free. He grasped and pulled himself free.

And finally he could breathe. And see. Someone was supposed to be here. Where were they? Why hadn’t they come for him? He needed to find them. They were here. They had to be. They wouldn’t have abandoned him. Not again.

Where were they? Where Were They?!

He pulled himself up. He stumbled. He kept going. He had to find them. The person, people?, who were supposed to be here. Why weren’t they here?

He took one step after another. They were nearby. A person! Right ahead! Was that them? No. It wasn’t. They were wrong! Why were they here? He pushed them away. They weren’t supposed to be here. They weren’t the right person. He kept going.

But everyone he found was not right. Why weren’t they right? Where were they?

The world got brighter. More people came out. They still weren’t right. It got dark. Where was he? Why was everything wrong?

Another wrong person. He tried to punch them. Only this time, his fist didn’t connect. They said something. The voice was wrong. He tried to kick, but that was stopped to. More people surrounded him.

His arms were pinned back. Then his legs. He couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? He tried to scream. Something was shoved in his mouth. He couldn’t scream. He struggled. He needed to get free. He needed to find the right person. Where were they? Where were they?

The world went black. When it lightened again, he saw a pool of green.

Green was safe. Green meant home and peace and an end to the fighting and the fear and the pain. He struggled, needing to get to it. But he couldn’t move his arms and his legs. And people were touching him. Surrounding him. Still the wrong people.

He thrashed and tried to scream. He wanted the right people. And suddenly he could move again. The people ran away from him. But that was fine. He didn’t want them near him. His legs hurt. And walking felt strange. But he stumbled forward. He needed to get to the green.

He sunk down deep and let the green take over. He breathed it in and everything made sense. This was right. This was home. The woman who brought him here was the right person. She was green and green was peace.

But when the green faded, all he saw was red. Red all over his hands and his arms and his clothes.

And he was so, so cold.

-----

Less than a week after their date (yes Jazz, he could admit it was a date now) at Ghost Writer’s lair, Danny returned to spend more time with his boyfriend. His boyfriend.

Only… when he got there, Jason’s lair was empty and abandoned. The island was entirely gone, leaving just the door. When he opened it, a layer of dust covered everything. The kitchen was filled with moldy food. Water overflowed the blocked sink. He floated above the floor, not wanting to step in the mess. What had happened? Where was Jason? The library. He had to be there. His hand shook as he turned the doorknob.

The mess in the library was almost worse. All the books had been knocked off their shelves and lay haphazardly all over the floor—spines broken and pages torn and bent. Jason hated damaging a book.

“No. No,” he whispered. This wasn’t real. A ghost’s lair reflected their state of being. Jason was okay. He had to be.

He backed out of the library. The gym. Jason always went there when he was upset. Only the gym was empty, too. It was in just as awful of shape. The punching bag had been split and it’s sand spilled over the floor. The weights were tossed about, the floor cracked under where they’d fallen.

There was only one more room. The only room Danny had never been in before.

With shaking hands, he opened the door to Jason’s bedroom. Clothes were strewn around the floor, torn and dirty. The bed was messy, but something was glowing under the covers.

He let himself land on the floor. He needed the connection to the world. Nothing felt real. The clothes piled on the floor meant his footsteps were silent, though his breaths echoed loud in his ears. It seemed to take forever to reach the bed.

His hand shook as he reached for the blankets and pulled them back one by one. Under the last one he saw what looked like a smoldering, black coal.

Jason’s core.

“No.”

Danny instinctively took a step back. That couldn’t be Jason. It couldn’t. He didn’t know how long he stared at the burning coal. He had to move. He stepped forward again and sunk to his knees by the bed. He reached forward and gently touched the core. It was barely warm to his touch.

It should have been an inferno. Jason burned so brightly. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He fell the rest of the way down, face pressed into the dirty, dusty sheets. He flared his aura.

The core felt like Jason. It was him.

Danny pushed himself up enough to cradle it gently in his hands. How could Jason be so small? He held him to his chest and curled around him. Whatever happened, he’d make it better. He’d find out who had hurt Jason and he’d make them pay.

His eyes burned and the world grew blurry as he cried, curled around Jason’s comatose form.

-----

So, don't @ me about the "intact mind" thing. I will address that later in the fic. I promise it's not a plot hole!

Tag List

@britcision, @echoednonny, @adorablechaos, @letoasai, @saphjack, @emergentpanda-blog

#dpxdc #danny fenton #jason todd #desiree (dp)#dead on main #angst #and now the happy times are over #jason and danny both have some long roads ahead of them #i apologize for butchering the early modern english i had the guide ghost speaking #things will get worse before they get better #but they will get better #they just have to earn their happy endings #i honestly planned to stop writing after the kiss #but the rest of this flowed so easily that i had to continue

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