#Dude. Little too far there like damn.

[flitsy]

[alonetogether]

i did not want to be That Guy but literally if i keep seeing that the only tags ppl leave on that peterick bunk cuddling art is about petes ass i swear i WILL start biting people like i know it’s meant for fun and trust me it was funny to me to begin with too but having smth like that said over and over. without any sort of like further. compliment or excitement at least after is just disheartening at this point

[firebirdsdaughter]

Honestly…

… That’s one of my criticisms of Ultimate Alien is how much of an ass Ben is about the whole Ultimate Kevin situation.

Like he acts like Kevin just did/is doing this out of malice or ambition when it’s canon that he did it to save the fucking universe and has had his brain scrambled from the power overload. Like this isn’t old Kevin (who to begin w/ I think was just a seriously messed up eleven year old and not some super genius malicious criminal or anything, mainly a kid w/ now tethers or control), in fact, this is a thing old Kevin would never have done! Kevin effectively, knowingly, sacrifices himself and his sanity to save the universe, and most of the time Ben keeps calling him ‘evil’ and stuff and it’s like. My dude. Could you. Could you at least act a little broken up???

He does have some lines that indicate really the only way I can justify it, which is that it’s guilt—Kevin only had to do that bc Ben wasn’t able to beat Aggregor, so him feeling responsible makes sense. Combined w/ misunderstanding Paradox’s warning, it’s understandable that a kid under that kinda stress, faced w/ feeling like he’s turned his brother friend into a mindless monster and thinking it’s been predetermined he’s going to kill him, would get that aggressive in order to hype himself up to actually do it. But it just feels… Over the top? Like that’s not quite acknowledged enough/the main sticking point is he treats everything like a conscious decision on Kevin’s part which is canonically isn’t, and added to that, Kevin only did this to save everyone. This wasn’t ‘Kevin wanted power’ this was Kevin knew what this would do to him, but he made what is imo a helluva selfless choice and nigh destroyed himself to stop the end of the universe as they know it. Ten year old Ben is one thing (even if he’s also a little guilty bc he suggested it you little wiener), but you’d think older Ben, who’d become friends w/ him, would give more of a shit.

It’s not that they couldn’t pull it off. Like I said, Ben trying to convince/psych himself up for what he thinks is a predetermined result is one thing, but the tone of his attitude pisses me off as much as it does Gwen. I feel like it’d’ve been better to have him be more of the angle that ‘our Kevin is already dead,’ maybe have a moment where he admits he’s telling himself that this is what sane Kevin would want him to do, stop him from hurting innocent people again. And maybe we can work up to super bitter jackass, but I feel like he goes there a bit too quickly (although I’m kinda skirting through, so maybe it’s slower than I remember???).

[chisungie]

.

[wolviensabes]

Logan has a massive breeding kink. 18+ Minors DNI.

I wrote something kinda similar with the whole 'rut' thing, but this will focus more on the 'breeding' aspect. Possibly will write a deep fic about this at a later date, for now this is just a short little drabble. Wrote with both afab and amab, as an afab I am not super familiar with reactions for those born as amab, so I tried my best!

Warnings: Uh filthy breeding sex thoughts?? Don't read if it's not for you. I did not edit this I typed all of this in like ten minutes.

I don't care if you are afab or amab, or capable of actually being biologically 'bred' or not...and neither does Logan.

He is going to fuck you full of his seed, no matter what hole he is stretching.

A lot of my followers have come to me and said they are amab, and I want to give you guys some love too. Logan will throw you on the bed...or couch...or floor. He will tear your clothes off while leaving all those lovely bites on your neck and shoulder, trailing down your chest and abdomen, his rough and calloused hands feeling you as he finally reaches your pants. I hope you didn't pay much for them because they're in tatters as he grows too frustrated to unbutton them.

"Look at you, rock hard from the thought of my cock in your ass?" He teases you, watching you throb and twitch, your own sex felt swollen and leaked like crazy. This man knew just how to get you going. He likes to stoke you until you squirm, spitting on your dick as his hand works you. His thumb trails teasingly on the tip and he grins down at you as you whine for him. "Ah, gotta lube up my fingers to stretch ya...don't want me goin' in dry do you?" he teases, using your precum as lube on his fingers and circling your tight hole.

He leans down, spreading you and licks over you, his tongue prying and greedy. Once you seem wet enough, he will push one finger in. Two, maybe three. Curling them against that pretty little spot that makes pleasure jolt up your spine and make you a moaning mess. So desperate for an orgasm you try reaching for anything to grab onto.

When Logan does penetrate you, it is so intense and you feel like he splits you in half. It stings and burns, but it also feels so damn good you don't want him to stop. Ever. "Logan! Oh my god, please, move...please." Your voice wavers with begging pleasure, just as he likes to hear. It gets him going, so riled up and ready to fuck you until you can't take it.

His balls are so heavy and his stockpile of cum is huge. It doesn't matter if you're a dude, he will breed you. It was funny the first time it came up during sex, he rolled his eyes at your genuine concern telling him you can't get pregnant. He deadpans at you and scoffed, "Ya, I know that, bub...it's called fantasy for a reason. Just let me have this." he grumbled, though your concern to his words was pretty cute...and funny.

"Damn it...fuck." he snarled as his cock buried as far as it could in your ass, watching himself disappear inside you. "Takin' me so well aren't ya, pup...watchin' you squirm with my dick inside you 'bout makes me unload." he groaned and teased you, enjoying how your face blushed darkly and you mewl under your breath, biting your lip to keep yourself from sounding like you're in a fucking heat.

"M'gonna fill your tight little hole with all my seed, you're gonna be drooling it outta your greedy ass, swallowing and milkin' me already..." he spoke filthy words while he thrusted hard and fast, you felt so dizzy and lightheaded in the best way. It was incredible, such pleasure overtook your body and you felt yourself spasm as he teased your tip, your own orgasm hitting you like a freight train.

You sputtered cum onto your belly and chest, he laughs lowly, grunting like a feral animal in your ear. "Messy boy. Look what you did..." He leaned down and licked a stripe through the mess and kissed you, your own cum on his tongue and you tasted yourself on the messy kiss. His hips stutter into you and he grabs you tightly, curling around your body and pressing you until he exploded inside your ass. That delicious snarling cry from him, a guttural roar, and his repetitive thrusts fill you up with his spunk.

He goes until every last drop is inside you, and he settles with his hips against you. "You're gonna keep me in ya...even if I have to keep my dick inside you."

With your pleading whine and groan, you pressed back against his cock, still hard in your ass. It makes Logan give a small thrust back, chuckling at you. You were so needy, it made him so fucking happy seeing how much you needed him. "That's my good boy, ya need it...? Fine. I'll give ya another load."

Logan talks a bit more if there's a possibility of getting you pregnant, or if he's with an afab. He's a little more filthy with his words since he knows the risks involved.

"Yeah...you want me to cum inside ya? You wanna get pregnant with my babies? Nngh....I'm gonna fill that womb. I'm gonna make sure you are leakin'..." he snarls at you while he's completely buried in your stretched, swollen cunt.

Can you barely register his words? Yes. But you don't care. You want his cum, you want him to fuck you senseless...which he has been. You were no better than a bitch in heat for him and he fucking loved it.

"Gonna be so damn full, gonna get you pregnant," he groaned and grunted hard, his instincts flaring with the possibility of actually impregnating and breeding you. It drove his hips faster and harder into you, like he couldn't control himself or stop.

His hips thrust so hard into you, the impact on your plush ass began to grow sore, you knew that your backside would be bruised and it wasn't even from spanking. He continued to pound into you, he bent you in all sorts of ways, positions you didn't think you could bend in.

Your body was covered in love bites and dark bruises, your nipples swollen from his teasing and they had a sting that enhanced all your pleasure with every thrust.

"Damn, look at you writhing. Such a good thing for me, sweet girl," he laughed as his dick kissed your cervix over and over, precum coating your inner walls. "I'm gonna fill you, princess...make that pretty little womb full." his hips continued to snap into you, biting your neck as he let out muffled growls against your skin.

You feel yourself crying with nothing but the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm, what number is this? You don't know. All you know is the pad of his finger is playing with your precious bundle of nerves and you can barely feel anything besides the raging fire of your climax shooting through you.

When he does cum, it is so much it overflows out of you, the sheer amount of it is insane. Your eyes widen, feeling the hot seed filling your precious fertile womb. If you're ovulating don't even think about running. Logan will literally hunt you down and bend you over until he is completely empty.

Thanks for reading my filthy thoughts lol. Maybe I'll turn this into an actual fic one day.

Byee 🧡

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[fastandcarlos]

Stealing Baby Norris » Carlos Sainz ft. Lando Norris

summary: when carlos sainz is revealed as the new mclaren driver your brother lando is happy to introduce you. what happens though as a relationship strikes up and carlos finds himself on the way to ferrari?

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,025,482 others

carlossainz55: having the best time in papaya, thank you to everyone who has welcomed me so far 🏎️🧡

tagged: mclaren

64,291 comments

mclaren: glad to have you onboard, looking forward to working with you carlos!

username1: carlos + lando = the dream pairing

username2: how does this man manage to pull off every damn colour

landonorris: can’t wait to get going with you dude, we’re in for a great season together

carlossainz55: @/landonorris it’s gonna be a great ride 🏎️🏁

carlossainz55: @/landonorris ps when’s the next norris family dinner I get to attend

username3: wait carlos went for dinner round lando’s house…that’s so cute

username4: @/username3 that means he would’ve gotten to meet all the siblings too 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 829,402 others

landonorris: already found me a new best friend to annoy for the season 🥰

tagged: carlossainz55

72,225 comments

mclaren: our views will be through the roof this year with content from you two

carlossainz55: it’s been two days and already you make me want to scream

username5: this duo just screams trouble

username6: handsome, funny, talented, carlando are the dream pairing

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you have my sympathies, I’ve been dealing with his nonsense for over 20 years

carlossainz55: @/ynusername how have you survived?? pls teach me your ways

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 let’s catch up next race and I’ll share all my tips 📗

carlossainz55: @/ynusername I’ve got my notebook ready!

username7: not y/n and carlos interacting on the gram

username: anyone else left thinking carlos and y/n would make a great couple

alex_albon: if carlos lasts more than a season with you I’ll give you a thousand pounds 😂

georgerussell63: did everyone forget to give carlos the memo about lando and his unflattering photos??

username8: have the norris family just adopted carlos now? 🥺

username9: these two might just have the power to turn me into a mclaren girlie by the end of the season

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, ynusername and 739,300 others

carlossainz55: weekends off = exploring the world with my favourite person 🌍✈️

43,492 comments

username10: whose been taking all these photos??

username11: anyone else been noticing y/n appearing in the likes again 🤔

landonorris: I thought I was your favourite person??

carlossainz55: @/landonorris how does number two sound?

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 I guess I can make an exception for one person 😂

username12: there’s only one person that lando would make an exception for

username13: omg he’s got to be talking about y/n

username12: @/username13 y/n is the only person lando is that whipped for

charles_leclerc: woah look at you posting handsome aesthetic shots 🤯

carlossainz55: @/charles_leclerc I’ve been having a few lessons ☺️

username14: let me be the one you explore with pls carlos 💦

lewishamilton: well earned after a great week my guy 🏆

lance_stroll: I wanna know the gossip too

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, ynusername and 1,429,231 others

carlossainz55: making the most of the sun during the off season, and luckily for me I had the best company to make the most of the time off too ❤️🥺

tagged: ynusername

192,492 comments

username15: poor lando, losing his little sister to carlos

username16: they just look so adorable together

pierregasly: hell yeah congrats you two 🩷

landonorris: excuse me I do not give permission for you to post photos of my sister in the same album of you half naked

carlossainz55: @/landonorris your sister wasn’t complaining when I asked her to take these half naked shots

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 you just wait until I next see you 🤬

username17: lando already regretting ever letting the two of them meet

username18: I bet carlos teases Lando about dating his sister whenever he can lol

ynusername: thank you for the most amazing holiday…you’re the best 🔥💕

carlossainz55: @/ynusername can’t wait to do it again soon (just don’t tell lando) 🥰

georgerussell63: glad to see you guys enjoying yourselves, can’t wait to hear all about it

danielricciardo: and the award for the new cutest couple in f1 goes to…

username19: this relationship is gonna bully the hell outta lando

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 429,555 others

ynusername: a weekend of supporting my boys…it doesn’t get better than this 🧡🏎️🏁

tagged: landonorris, carlossainz55 and mclaren

32,448 comments

username20: my heart…this is adorable 😭

carlossainz55: I love you, thank you for always supporting me 🧡

landonorris: the best little sister ever - you were supporting me slightly more tho, right?

ynusername: @/landonorris I support you both equally stop trying to cause trouble 🙄

carlossainz55: @/landonorris I think she supports me more judging by our celebrations last night 🫢

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 I do NOT need to know anymore details you shut your mouth 😭

carmenmmundt: sooo glad we got to catch up after so long, see you at another race soon!!

username21: I can’t cope with y/n and carlos constantly teasing lando like this

username22: poor lando watching his little sister lose all innocence in front of his eyes 😂

maxverstappen1: I keep telling you y/n…red bull is where it’s at

charles_leclerc: although I’m sure ferrari red would look good on you too…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 1,029,472 comments

carlossainz55: a weekend with my two favourite norris’ 🥺💕

tagged: landonorris and ynusername

68,304 comments

username23: the ultimate trio 🩷

username24: how has lando let carlos post that picture of him cuddling his baby sister

ynusername: I better be number one out of those two 🤔

carlossainz55: @/ynusername you’ll always be my number one (you haven’t got much competition 😂)

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 I thought what we had was special too 😂

maxverstappen1: these photos were almost cute until I noticed one of them had lando in it

username25: ofc there still ends up being loads of golf involved

username26: y/n is the luckiest getting to have carlos’ pancakes 🫠

username27: you just know in that golf photo that carlos is sharing some ott secret with y/n to put him off his shot 😂

alex_albon: ik lando is usually the third wheel…but I’m happy to third wheel these golf games 🙌🏻

landonorris: @/alex_albon invite in the post as we speak

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, ynusername and 892,204 others

carlossainz55: saying my final farewells to the fabulous team at mclaren, thank you for the best two seasons ever - unfortunately for me I’m still stuck with this giant pain in the ass as a constant third wheel in my relationship for the foreseeable 😂🥺

tagged: mclaren and landonorris

101,382 comments

landonorris: hahah you can’t get rid of me that easily

landonorris: being serious tho, I’ve loved being teammates with you, and I guess as hard as it is to say, I couldn’t be happier knowing my little sister is dating someone as wonderful as you

carlossainz55: @/landonorris stop it I’m tearing up…that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me 🥲

username28: I can’t believe we’re not going to get weekly carlando anymore

username29: nooooo how could you do this to us carlos

ynusername: ik this wasn’t an easy decision for you, but I’m excited for our next step together 💕

carlossainz55: @/ynusername thank you for being so understanding and supportive, can’t wait for what comes next! ❤️

username30: is y/n going to be moving with carlos…lando won’t be able to cope without his little sister around 💔

charles_leclerc: looking forward to welcoming you both soon - I told you you’d look good in ferrari red didn’t I y/n? 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 1,103,592 comments

carlossainz55: a few days exploring the new city that we call home 🌊😊

tagged: ynusername

53,883 comments

landonorris: the uk is still better!!

landonorris: I can’t believe you stole my baby sister from me like this

carlossainz55: @/landonorris I promise that I’ll look after her

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 just like you promised to never break my heart and leave me at mclaren?? 💔

username31: it feels strange not seeing the two of them with lando right beside them

username32: lando genuinely sounds gutted not to have them next door anymore

georgerussell63: glad to see you guys are settling in nicely 😊

charles_leclerc: can’t wait to catch up with you guys over the next couple of days

ynusername: let’s continue to make more amazing memories 💕💕

username: they both look so happy to be in italy

username33: I’m so glad y/n decided to move out with carlos

username34: my carlando heart can’t bare to see them apart

danielricciardo: can confirm lando has not stopped moaning about how lost he is without you both the past couple of days

ynusername: tell him to grow up @/danielricciardo I’m not a baby anymore

landonorris: @/ynusername STOP YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MY BABY SISTER

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 429,450 others

ynusername: the colours might have changed but my man being top of the podium remains the same 🔥🏆

tagged: carlossainz55

34,771 comments

charles_leclerc: welcome to the best team in f1!! ❤️

carlossainz55: thank you for always supporting me, cannot wait for our new adventure my love 🥰✨

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 so proud of you, excited to see you continue being the amazing man you are 🥺

username35: these pictures must be breaking lando’s heart

username36: I still think y/n looks better in papaya

danielricciardo: you two lovebirds are something else

landonorris: I never thought my own sister would betray me like this

ynusername: @/landonorris I’m still a mclaren girl at heart 🫢🧡

carlossainz55: @/ynusername I’ll pretend I didn’t just read that

lilymhe: teach me how to look as good as you in the paddock pls 🙏🏻

liked by ynusername, landonorris and 1,302,204 others

carlossainz55: carlando is still going strong (according to lando who still believes he is my favourite member of the norris family 🙄) hope this stops you feeling so jealous boo

tagged: landonorris

103,492 comments

landonorris: thank you for thinking about my feelings bby ❤️

ynusername: @/landonorris 🤮🤮🤮

username37: yay carlando lives on

username38: I always knew they’d still make time for each other

username39: has y/n been the true third wheel along

danielricciardo: you left me some big shoes to feel mate

ynusername: the two of you absolutely disgust me…but I wouldn’t have it any other way

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[sleepypanda27]

Bucky's Crush

Bucky x reader

Summary: Sam is tired of Bucky not doing anything to get the girl he likes. So he helps out a bit.

Words: 710

Warnings: Cute and nervous Bucky

It was an early morning in the compound. Sam was telling Bucky some story of his adventures, but that turned into white noise when he saw you walking into the kitchen. Still in your pajama and unbrushed, messy hair. You walked to the mug cupboard and stretched, yawning.

"Want some coffee?" Bucky asked with a smile in his voice.

"Yes, please." You leaned against the kitchen island, watching Bucky intently as he made you coffee. Who knew that making coffee could be so sexy?

"Good morning, by the way." He said in a little raspy voice from sleep.

"Hi, good morning." You blushed, tucking hair behind your ear, and smiled awkwardly, hoping he didn't notice you staring at him.

"There you go." His eyes were locked with yours as he gave you a cup with steam coming from it.

"Thank you, Bucky." Inhaling the delicious scent, you thanked him.

"You're welcome, doll." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. Subtly, his eyes traveled up and down your body, making you blush again. You went back to your room, thinking you should try to blush less in Bucky's presence.

Bucky shook his head with a smile and looked at Sam, who was staring at him. "What?"

"Seriously?"

"What?" Bucky didn't understand what was his problem.

"I was talking to you, dude."

"I heard you."

"Okay then. What was the last thing you heard?"

"Ummm...that you like seeds and breadcrumbs." Bucky shrugged.

"Ugh, just ask her out already." Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"I will..." Bucky looked into the hallway you went to just seconds ago. "Someday."

Sam had arranged a movie night, making you and Bucky sit together. It was all highly suspicious because you three were the only people there.

Bucky's musky cologne mixed with the faded scent of the leather jacket he had worn earlier, lingered on his hoodie. You had to fight against the urge to just melt into your seat.

He pretended to yawn, stretching his arms in the air, and placing his arm around your shoulders, gauging your reaction. Naturally, you moved closer to his side. He had to bite his cheeks to stop the smile from turning too big.

Sam bailed pretty early, knowing that if you two were left alone, you would feel more free and open up.

After a while, you stood up, and Bucky thought 'Well, this is it, he went too far too soon.' But you only took a blanket and then returned to your seat by his side. This time, snuggling even closer to him.

His mind reeled with all kinds of different thoughts. All of them included you. He wondered did he remembered how to kiss. Can you even forget something like that? Now, he went too far and was overthinking.

You could feel and hear his relentless heartbeat, or maybe it was yours you couldn't quite tell.

You couldn't take the tension anymore. You spun around so fast that you startled both of you. Placing your hand softly on his nape, you slowly leaned closer, giving him a chance to stop this, but instead, he closed the distance. As soon as your lips met, it was like he forgot all of his previous worries.

Bucky couldn't hide the smile anymore and he didn't want to. Feeling the dog tags around his neck, you wrapped the silver chain around your fingers, tugging him to you while lying back on the couch. Which he gladly followed.

After a while, Bucky pulled away from you, looking to the side, where Sam was slowly and carefully creeping to the place where he was sitting earlier.

Noticing that he's caught, Sam stopped. "Don't mind me, I just forgot my phone. He quickly run after the phone. "Carry on." He shot you both a smile and left.

Laughing, you hid your face in your palms from embarrassment. Bucky chuckled, gently taking your hands off your face. "You are so damn cute, doll."

Now you were blushing even harder.

Bucky turned off the TV and, easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your squeal turned into giggles. "Where are we going?"

"To my room." He smiled, "So we can watch the movie and make out without interruption."

[lovebugism]

heyy i have a request <33

just read ur shy reader x steve fic where she gives him his phone number back and then hits her head and he’s just so 🥰🥰🥰 abt it all. i know it’s a prequel to a fic where they’re finally together but could i politely request a fic from when they did get together. maybe tommy tries picking on her again but steve actually stops him that time🩷🩷🩷

thanks for requesting :D part of the king!steve universe! — steve defends you from his asshole friends (shy!fem!r established relationship, hurt/comfort | 1k)

The air smells overwhelmingly of the late summer season. Of nighttime and dewy grass and chlorine and Steve The Hair Harrington. 

The boy himself lazes in the lawn chair next to yours, much too far for your liking. The warm scent of his cologne lingers between you and cradles you in his absence. 

You tilt your chin to your shoulder and admire the sharp edges of Steve’s profile in silence. Your heavy eyes fall from his pronounced browbone, to the slope of his chiseled nose, and finally to the plush of his pink lips. Too pretty for his own good.

“You can swim if you want to,” you murmur when you catch him eyeing Tommy and Carol splashing each other in the steaming pool. “You know that, right?”

Steve’s brows furrow, as though offended by the question. “I’m okay here.”

“I just don’t want you to think you have to stay here with me—”

“I don’t care about swimming with those two shitheads, alright? Honest,” the boy interjects, then turns to look at you fully. Honey glitters in his dark eyes, which melt with a quiet adoration. In a similarly warm tone, he confesses, “I just wanna spend time with you.” 

A petaled smile blooms on your mouth. You purse your lips to the side in a futile attempt to conceal it, which only makes Steve’s smug grin grow. He knows what he’s doing to you. And it’s maddening.

“You can flirt with your girlfriend without being an asshole, you know?” Tommy calls from the shallow end of the pool, freckled arms folded along the concrete edge. He shakes wet hair from his face and jokes, “Dissing your friends isn’t exactly a turn-on. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your face burns when he turns to you. The unwanted attention makes your throat catch and your stomach do backflips. ‘Cause no matter how many times Steve invites you to these hangouts, you know you’ll never truly fit in. Not here. Not with them.

Steve, seemingly sensing your discomfort as you shift in your seat, calls back. “Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

"Dick,” the darker-haired boy chuckles. 

Carol swims over to him, then, and mounts his back. She wraps all her dainty limbs around him like a koala. Tommy accommodates her weight with little effort. “Hey, Wallflower. Why don’t you hop in? The water’s warm.”

As if you didn’t already know that you were less than friends, the use of the horrid nickname was further confirmation.

“I don’t know how to swim,” you confess in a mousy voice.

“I could always teach ya,” he offers, mostly polite, but still distantly creepy in his way. “You’ve got a bathing suit under all that, right?”

“Uh… Yeah?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a faint smirk. His dark eyes flit up and down your form like he can see right through your oversized t-shirt. “Nice,” he hums.

Carol scoffs and swats his arm. “You’re such a boy.”

Tommy’s freckled face swirls with a boyish offense. “I just wanna know what she looks like under all those clothes! That’s all!” he argues like it’s normal. Like you aren’t there at all.

“Okay, Tommy,” Steve spits. “That’s just gross.”

“What?” he laughs

“You can’t— You can’t just say that!” the boy beside you retorts, talking wildly with his hands. “That’s, like, super sexist, dude.”

Even stewing in your red-hot embarrassment, he manages to get a smile out of you. Not that he’s trying to, anyway. He’s trying to stand up for you — the best he can, at least. It’s not his fault his boyishness is so damn adorable.

“Don’t act like you haven’t said worse shit, Harrington!” 

“Yeah, but I grew up! It’s not my fault you’re still fourteen!”

Tommy rears his arm back to splash him. The warm droplets of the heated pool land mostly on the boy beside you, dampening his sweatshirt in rogue places. A few fall gently on your arm when you flinch away.

“See. Now you’re just proving my point,” Steve deadpans.

“Hey, Wallflower!” Tommy shouts, if only to further provoke his best friend. “If you ever want a break from this hardass, give us a call, alright?”

Carol gasps in offense. “You’re so gross,” she giggles before splashing him with a lighthearted hand. To which Tommy responds with a much bigger, much more dramatic splash of his own. 

The two of them roughhouse like they hate each other and forget you were ever there, while you drown in a riptide of thoughts.

What did she mean by that? your mind races. Does the mere thought of you disgust her? Or does she realize how pervy her boyfriend is? Maybe it’s both. But the thought is still stomach-turning.

Steve looks over at you and softens all over again. “Sorry about him,” he mumbles.

His honeyed voice cuts through all the mean voices in your head. You blink hard and turn to him with less glazed-over eyes. “You’re real cute, you know?” you say with a wavering, mostly sincere grin.

He only shrugs and swipes an anxious hand through his hair, ducking away when his cheeks start to speckle a burning pink color. The chocolate strands fall back over his forehead once more. 

“He doesn’t get to talk to you like that,” he murmurs sheepishly. “Or anyone, but… Especially you.”

“Hardass,” you quip with a mischievous squint.

Steve sends you a playful glare in return. You cave with a pretty laugh. He grins at the sound of it and settles back in his plastic lounge chair, blinking up at the velvet night sky.

“It’s feel good, though,” he mutters with his arms folded over his stomach.

Your brows pinch. “What does?”

“Being the only one who gets to see you under all that.”

Steve flashes you a smirk — pretty, pink, and lopsided. You meet the petaled expression with a lighthearted glower despite the sparkles burning like embers in your chest. 

“Does it?” you monotone.

“Yep,” he answers, popping the p. “It’s an honor, really.”

“Shut up.”

“I feel like I deserve a medal, honestly.”

“Shut up.”

[not-neverland06]

hi!! Given my obsession for Hugh jackman I am CRAVING for some Leopold X reader (from Kate & Leopold)! Maybe with some little angst but happy ending??

I love your blog!! Have a wonderful day 😽💐💓

Leopold Mountbatten x fem!reader a/n: I don’t know how controversial this is going to be and I don’t care. I could never finish the movie because I hated Meg Ryan in it so much. It’s so odd, I’ve loved her in everything else she’s been in but she made it such a hard watch. Maybe it’s because she reminds me of my grandma in the worst way lol, but I finished it for you anon sorry this was a little rushed Anyways, hope you enjoy lovelies Summary: Your neighbor went back in time and dragged someone back with him. He's irritatingly polite and far too interested in your way of life. What are you meant to do when you fall for a man who was never even supposed to meet you?

“Hello, madam, please I need your help!”

You’re used to crazies, it is New York after all. But they’re not usually shouting at you through your window. Especially not when you’re on the sixth floor. You look away from your coffee and glance towards the fire escape. 

There’s an oddly dressed man with red eyes waving at you through the dirty glass. You offer him a tentative wave back and he nods aggressively. “Yes, hello, I need your assistance.”

“Um,” you shake your head, “Sorry, I don’t have any drugs dude.”

“No,” he places his hands pathetically on the glass and shakes his head. “Please, I have been kidnapped.” Finally, you take a step closer to him. You can tell now that his eyes aren’t reddened from any medicinal fun, he probably got pepper sprayed. 

Your friend did it to you once when you tried to surprise her on her birthday and you’ll never forget just how awful you looked afterwards. You can see him a bit more clearly now. Whatever odd costume he’s got on, it looks good. Genuine and clean. 

Not like most of the street performers you see in Times Square. Besides, he doesn’t have that maddened look in his eye that makes you worry he’s going to come inside and kill you. Tentatively, you open the window. 

He’s leaping through in a second and you jump back with a yelp. He turns towards you and his eyes widen before he quickly turns away. “My good lady, where are your pants?”

“Uh,” you glance down at the oversized shirt you’re wearing and the tiny shorts underneath. Admittedly, it’s a little skimpy, but you’re not walking around naked. You’ve heard of committing to the bit, but this is a bit much. “On,” you tell him, walking around him and trying to stand close to the phone. 

“Ma’am-” He’s cut off as someone slams their fist on your front door. You keep a weary eye on the man while you unlock your door. 

“Hey,” Stuart smiles at you. His eyes drift slightly past your shoulder and he goes barging into your apartment. “Leopold! What did I say?”

You huff and glare at Stuart’s frantic back. “This is yours?” Stuart nods and rushes Leopold out the door. You don’t miss the pleading, while slightly scandalized, look he sends you. 

You slam the door closed behind them, shaking your head and going back to your morning paper. You doubt you’ll be seeing him around again. 

You know, it’s just your luck that your upstairs neighbor is a scientist, one who happens to dabble in the art of time travel. And it’s just your luck that he had to fall down a damn elevator shaft. 

Now, according to him, you have to care for someone from a different century so he can make it back to his time portal in, well, in time. This is fucking ridiculous. “I’m going to kill you, Stuart.”

“Look, they’re going to take my phone but he really cannot-”

It goes silent on the other end. You shout his name a few times but hear nothing in response. You assume the hospital staff has finally gotten sick of his shenanigans and has taken his phone. You slam your handset down with a huff and look towards the living room. Leopold hasn’t sat down since you walked in and it’s unsettling. 

“So,” you start and his attention snaps towards you. “1876, huh?”

He nods and you roll your eyes with a scoff. “Oh, this is insane. This is insane,” you mutter to yourself, walking towards Stuart’s door. Leopold gives you a concerned look before quickly following after you. There’s a part of you, and you hate that part, that actually believes some of this. 

Stuart is a brilliant, though flawed, scientist. You don’t doubt that he might have actually unlocked the secret to traveling back to the past, but it’s such an insane idea to try and wrap your head around. 

“Come on, we’re leaving.” You know that Stuart doesn’t want him out of the house. Tough. You’re not going to just stay inside and wait until he can supposedly go back to the past. You don’t give Leopold any time to process your answer, already out the door and heading towards the stairs. 

“You know,” he starts as he catches up to you. “You are quite rude.” Your first instinct is to snap back at him. But you take a breath and stop yourself. 

You’re desensitized, ridiculously used to just how awful New Yorkers can be to each other. And whether this man is truly from the past or not is up for debate. But he is polite and earnest, and you have no reason to be a bitch to him. 

“I’m,” the words are hard to come by but you force them out anyway, “I’m sorry.” He looks genuinely surprised by the apology and it only makes you feel worse. “This is just an insane idea to try and grasp.”

He chuckles softly, smiling as he glances down at his feet. “Yes, how do you think I feel?”

You’re sure it’s not his intention, but you only feel like more of an ass. If this is hard for you, whatever he's going through is a hundred times worse. You weren’t forcefully ripped out of your own time and shoved into another you don’t understand. He’s still trying to comprehend the television.

Though, you’re sure being a scientist has helped him in marginally understanding how all of this is possible. “How do you like the future?” It sounds awkward and stiff, but you haven’t had to talk to anyone in a really long time. 

Your interactions are pretty limited at the book shop considering no one ever comes in. They all order online nowadays and all you really have to worry about is organizing shelves. You’re embarrassingly rusty when it comes to conversing. 

And his propensity towards eloquence only makes you feel worse. “I must admit, some of your inventions have been quite fascinating. I’m especially fond of your showers.”

Your face scrunches slightly at the mention of hygiene and you nod, “I bet.” Before either of you can attempt to salvage this horrible attempt at conversation your phone starts ringing. “Hold on one second,” you tell him. You walk a few feet away from him but you can still feel his eyes boring into your back as you move away. 

“Hello?”

There’s a frantic shout of your name down the line and then the distinct jingling of keys. “I need you to cover the shop. Marcy just went into labor and I’ve got to go!” Paul doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he hangs up. 

Your jaw gapes and you stare down at your phone with shock. You know Paul and his wife had been expecting, but had it really already been nine months? Has your life become so monotonous and dull that nine months doesn’t even register for you?

It’s a depressing thought. One you’d rather not linger on. “What was that?”

You scream, though the people passing by don’t pay you any mind, and jump away from Leopold. “Jesus, where the hell did you come from?”

Leopold flinches away from you and his face is just as aghast as yours. “Good heavens, what is the matter with you? Do you respond to anything as a sensible woman might?”

“I resent that.” You tell him bitterly. Though, he does make a good point. You’ve been on edge constantly. You always seem to be more anxious than you are happy. It’s not a good state to perpetually exist in. “I need to go into work.”

You don’t want to outright say that he needs to go back to the apartment. It feels a little mean, but you’re hoping he’ll catch onto your tone of voice. 

His entire demeanor perks up and he smiles at you. “Wonderful, I am dreadfully curious as to what you do.”

You open your mouth to correct him, let him know he’s not coming. But he’s staring at you with such hopeful eyes that you cannot find it in yourself to turn him down. He seems so excited, you’re sure he won’t be when he gets to your cluttered little bookshop. You let out a weary sigh, “Fine. Okay.”

You walk towards the curb, hoping to hail a cab. But Leopold’s hand gently wraps around your elbow and tugs you in the opposite direction. Your eyes widen in response to his boldness. You thought touching a woman he wasn’t courting would cause someone like him to combust. Seems he didn’t mind breaking the rules sometimes. 

You make a mental note of that for later. You don’t know what you’re going to do with the information, but you find it intriguing. Maybe the modern world was rubbing off on him more than he’d like to admit. 

“We should take this,” he stops you in front of a horse-drawn carriage and you immediately begin to shake your head. 

“No, Leopold, these are just tourist traps-”

He doesn’t let you finish, opening the carriage’s door and gently nudging you inside. “Nonsense! This is far more enjoyable than those yellow monstrosities.”

“Taxi,” you correct. You turn towards the carriage driver and give him directions to your bookshop. “Ink and Tea on Fifth.” He nods and the carriage rolls forward with a lurch. You grip the cushioned seats and pray you don’t get motion sickness. 

“Ink and Tea?” Leopold inquires. “Are you a journalist?”

You smile and shake your head. “No, nothing so fancy. I just help take care of an old bookshop. They were supposed to extend the shop when it first opened. They were going to build a space for people to get pastries or drink tea, but it never happened and the owner was too lazy to change the name.”

It feels a little humiliating to be talking about your minimum-wage job to a renowned scientist. He’s invented or is going to, elevators. He doesn’t care about your stupid shop. But he doesn’t look particularly judgy of you. If anything he seems to be endeared to you the more you talk. 

Normally, you’re oblivious to these sorts of things. But it’s nearly impossible for him to hide. He’s not shy with his attraction, never taking his eyes off of you and hanging onto your every word. You’re not used to such outward attention. 

You look out of the carriage, pretending to take in views you’ve already seen a thousand times. “This city is incredible,” he wonders aloud. His awe is palpable. 

Your nose wrinkles and you shrug. “It’s dirty and the people are intolerable.”

“Must you always be so pessimistic?” You snap your mouth shut and feel embarrassment creeping around you. You’ve never had someone point out when you’re being negative, but he has a point. 

You used to view the city through the same rose-colored glasses. Something’s broken inside you in recent years that has just taken the joy out of life. Everything is grey to you now, until Leopold, nothing spectacular has ever really happened to you. 

The carriage comes to a stop outside the shop before you can respond to him. You want to deny what he says, but you can’t. Your attitude is almost always unnecessary. You think sometimes you might just be trying to see if everyone feels as miserable as you do or if there’s just something wrong with you. 

“Come on,” you tell him, getting out and paying the driver. He wanders towards the shop, eyeing the displays in the window curiously. 

“These are wonderful,” he tells you, pointing to the way you’d made the books look like they’re floating above the shelves. It was just some silly little thing you’d tried to get more people in the shop. It’d worked for about a month. 

“I did that,” you unlock the door to the shop and open it for him. But he doesn’t walk in immediately, instead, he lingers in the doorway. He offers you a soft smile and you can’t help but return it. 

“You’re more creative than you give yourself credit for.”

Your eyes widen as you watch him walk inside. He keeps making these oddly astute observations about you and it’s throwing you off your game. You barely know this man and you’ve always been good at keeping yourself aloof and vague. Yet, he seems to read you like you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

“Feel free to…” he’s already made himself comfortable somewhere in the back and you trail off. “Look around,” you finish lamely. His form is lost somewhere in stacks of books and cluttered shelves. 

You know most of the classics and history books are kept towards the back. You wonder if he’s reminiscing or getting a headstart before he gets back to his time. You smile at the thought and walk behind the counter, sitting on the stool and preparing to finish off the rest of the day.

Leopold is still somewhere lost to you an hour later. Occasionally you’ll hear a page flip or the clatter of a book being reshelved, but there are no other signs of life. Not until the bell above the door rings. 

“Clark,” you smile, sitting up straighter as your friend walks through the door. “What’re you doing here?”

He gives you a crooked grin and shrugs. Just over his shoulder, you can see Leopold’s head pop over a shelf, he looks between you both, eyes narrowing with disdain. “Paul told me you’d be here, figured you might want some company.”

“Actually-” you start, but another voice cuts you off. 

“Leopold Mountbatten,” he comes around the corner, hand outstretched as he comes in between you and Clark. “And who might you be?”

Your brows furrow in confusion at the interaction. Leopold seems oddly hostile and Clark looks strangely caught off guard. “Um, Clark. Nice to meet you, man.” He shakes Leopold’s hand but his grip is weak and it only lasts for one awkward half-second. 

It’s uncomfortable to watch them try and interact and it only gets worse when they turn towards you. Clearly, they want you to tell them who the hell the other guy is. But you feel like that might just make the situation worse. 

Besides, you were pretty content with it just being you and Leopold, you don’t need Clark coming in here and riling things up. “You know, Clark, I’m set here. You can just go home.” Your tone leaves no room for argument but you know he wants to. 

“Alright, I’ll just call you later, I guess.” He throws one last skeptical look at Leopold before finally slinking back out of the shop. 

“Neither of you should be alone without a chaperone present.” Leopold bluntly scolds you without even waiting a second before Clark is gone. It catches you off guard and you scoff. 

You motion between the two of you, “We don’t have a chaperone.” 

Leopold shrugs, “Yes, well, I’m not courting you.” It shouldn’t, because he’s right, but that stings. He is attractive, surprisingly so. You have this odd belief that anyone from his century had to be at least a little ugly. But he’s near perfect. 

Hearing him tell you so bluntly that you’re not courting hurts a little. Though, you can’t blame him. You must be dramatically different than the women he’s used to. From your manners to how you dress, you’re practically an alien. 

You stand up from behind the counter and walk towards the cart of books that need to be shelved. “Clark is a friend. Nothing more.” You’ve never once been romantically interested in your friend. He’s attractive, but he’s not really your type.

Apparently, British men from the nineteenth century are. Which does not bode well for your romantic prospects once Leopold is back home. “It is plain for anyone to see how he wants you. Don’t let yourself be blinded by naivete.”

“Naivete?” you scoff and turn around to glare at him. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me, alright? I’m not some maiden in a frilly dress who needs a chaperone.” You can see that your words affect him. He looks a little taken aback by your anger and so are you. 

It’s misplaced. You’re not mad at him, just mad that you even like him. “Just go read or something, Leopold.” You dismiss him more rudely than necessary and hide yourself behind a few shelves. The rest of your workday is spent in a tense silence that makes your stomach churn. 

You’re nearly ready for bed when something slips under your door with a slight whoosh. You turn towards it, frowning when you see a little envelope with a wax seal on the ground. You pick it up and let your finger slip under the paper, opening it to find a letter with your name on it inside. 

The handwriting is impeccable, with a gracefulness to it that you’ve never seen before. You don’t have to read for very long to know who it's from. Leopold writes poetry about the color of your eyes and the way your lips curl when you smile. And then he ends it with a vague, nearly ominous, invitation to dinner. 

You can’t help but smile to yourself, changing out of your pajamas and slipping into something a little nicer. A few minutes later you’re climbing out your window and taking the stairs up the fire escape to the roof. 

You don’t believe your ears at first, thinking the music must be coming from another apartment. But when you make it up to the roof there’s a violin player there waiting for you. He smiles happily at you as you approach. 

You spin in a slow circle, taking in the sheer amount of flowers littered around the roof. You don’t know how he managed to afford all of this. He transformed the barren and empty rooftop into your own little paradise. Candles lit and a live musician playing for you. 

You’ve never had anyone do something like this for you, ever. It’s a little hard to accept that someone would be willing to put this much effort in for you. “I wasn’t entirely sure you would come.”

You turn around and Leopold is waiting behind you, that familiar smile playing on his lips. You aren’t aware of the grin forming on your face in response. You don’t have much control over that when you’re with him. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He looks like he wants to respond but at the last moment thinks better of it. He instead pulls your chair out for you, helping you into your seat. “This is nice,” that feels too underwhelming a word for such an incredible gesture. 

You sigh and frown as you try and find the right words. You don’t notice him sitting down across from you. You only look up when you feel him placing his hand on your own. “It’s alright,” he assures you. 

It’s still so odd how he can know you so well after such little time. “This is incredible,” you tell him, undeterred by his attempts to soothe you. “No one’s ever done something like this for me.”

He looks like he takes personal offense to that and it makes you laugh. “You deserve far more than this. Sadly, it seems Stuart’s pockets do have limits and I’m afraid I would have put him into debt if I’d gone any further.”

You have the perfect mental image of Stuart coming back from the hospital only to find his science project has robbed him. It makes you laugh and you squeeze his hand once before drawing it back into your lap. He lets his touch linger on you for a long moment, seemingly reluctant to pull away. 

“No,” you tell him, “this is perfect.” 

You fall into a comfortable silence for a little while. Conversation mostly drifting toward what his life was like as a duke. You don’t have much to say about your own life. It’s been incredibly normal and you’re a little sad to find that you don’t have one good thing to share with him. 

Nothing comes to the front of your mind. 

Inevitably, you drift into the topic you’d both been so adamantly avoiding. “Has Stuart said when you’d need to return?”

Leopold’s grip on the fork tightens and for a moment he refuses to meet your eye. “Monday, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” your eyes widen and you feel something burning at the back of your throat. Monday, the same Monday that’s two days away. 

“Dance with me,” the suddenness of the demand catchers you so off guard that you forget the tears. He stands, holding out his hand to you. You almost say no, you can’t remember the last time you danced and you doubt it’s going to be pretty. 

But he whispers your name and something about his tone tells you to take the chance while you have it. You slip your hand into his, letting him pull you to your feet. He doesn’t sweep you off your feet and dance the night away. 

Instead, he holds you close and you sway together. Like moving even an inch away from each other would hurt. “You could come with me,” he tells you. And you know immediately what he’s talking about. 

You also know it could never happen. Going to the nineteenth century is insane. Even considering it should be enough to have you sent to a psych ward somewhere. Especially not for a man you’ve known for less than a month. 

You try and tell him that you can’t, but he stops you. “I know, a preposterous idea. I just wanted to think about it.” You look up at him and find that you can’t take that away from him. There’s nothing wrong with imagining what it could be like with him. Even when you know it can never happen. 

You dance like that for a little while longer, swaying against each other while the violin plays in the background. He whispers your name and when you gaze up at him this time, there’s a certain look in his eye that you know is reflected in your own. 

He dips down, lips caressing yours gently before he’s pushing more firmly against your own. The world stops. Cliche, you’re aware. For the first time in years, though, you’re alive. You feel something other than the dull monotony of life. You feel excited and terrified all at once. Because you know you can never have this feeling again. 

You will never meet another man like Leopold who ignites this spark of life and passion within you. Never has a man been able to make you doubt every decision you’ve ever made with just a kiss, but here he is. 

Your arms lift like you might try and draw him in closer. His hands come up, taking yours in his gentle hold and squeezing. He pulls away from you and reality comes crashing back down. You’re not in love, you can’t be. You’ve only just met him a few days ago. 

Yet, here you are, wondering if you might actually want to leave everything behind to be with him like the great romances authors write about. He smiles at you and there’s a bittersweetness to it, a final farewell that you know will break whatever is left of your heart. 

He lifts your knuckles to his lips, pressing his lips against them like he never wants to part. “Goodnight,” he whispers your name and backs away from you. You watch him go, watch him leave, unable to muster up any words for him. 

You can’t think of anything that would ease this gnawing ache inside of you. Nothing to soothe the pain for either of you. You let him go because you know if you asked him to stay he would. And how selfish of you would it be to let history unravel simply because you fell in love? 

Monday. It is Monday. You’ve been coming to terms with that all weekend. You don't want to think about the fact that Leopold will be gone tonight. Your time together was so brief but you feel like you’re never going to get over losing him. 

Before the night was over on Sunday, a note was slipped under your door. This handwriting was messy, it made you think someone other than Leopold had written it down, but you don’t know who it could have been. 

It was a date and time, jump off the Brooklyn Bridge at this time on Monday night. Only an idiot would jump off a bridge because of an ominous note slipped under her door. But you haven’t been able to take your eyes off of it, not since you first picked it up. 

Leopold had invited you to go with him. And while you might not have said no, the insinuation was clear. Your eyes dart to your clock. If you left now, you could still make it in time. What an absolutely ridiculous thought. 

So, why are you running out the door without locking it? Why do you not care who slips into your home now? There’s this sense of finality within you that lets you know you’re never going to see that place again and that’s okay. 

You never truly felt comfortable in your life. You always thought a part of yourself was missing. Or that you were always running late for something. You think you understand what you were feeling now. 

The thing you’ve been searching for your whole life wasn’t halfway across the world, a hundred thousand miles from you. He was on the wrong side of time, or you were, at least. 

You manage to snag a taxi to get to the bridge but there’s a traffic jam. You’re forced to jump out of the car and run through the different lanes of blocked traffic. People shout at you. Your cab driver screaming after you about your fare. You don’t care, the only thing you can think about is the note crumpled in your hands and the clock counting down how long you have to jump. 

You’ll either be on the news tomorrow as an unfortunate suicide. An idiot who accidentally threw herself off the wrong side of the bridge. Or, you’ll see Leopold again. 

You reach the ledge and you can’t hesitate. If you do, you won’t jump in time. You close your eyes, holding your breath like you’re jumping into your neighbor’s pool. Air rushes around you, whipping at your hair and skin violently. 

It’s not until you hear someone shouting down at you that you realize you’re not dead. You’re lying in the middle of a dirt road, a group of people staring down at you with concern in their eyes. 

You only have to take in the clothes they’re wearing to know you’ve made it. Before they can react you’re leaping to your feet and running off. You know you’re near the Brooklyn Bridge, or where it’s supposed to be at least. You know enough about the area to remember where Leopold’s house is supposed to be. 

You’re covered in sweat and red mud. The people you pass by in the streets hide behind their hands and whisper about you. You’re not making a good impression on your future neighbors, that’s for sure. But, honestly, all you care about is making it back to him. 

You see people congregating outside his uncle’s home. You know there’s a party inside, that he’s supposed to be announcing who his wife will be. You barrel through the people outside, shoving through the crowd and running up the steps of the house. 

You can hear Leopold’s voice as you run, “The woman I’m going to take as my wife is-”

There’s a loud gasp as you come panting into the room. You can’t catch your breath long enough to speak but it doesn’t matter. The crowd is parting around you and Leopold is smiling down at you. He says your name and there’s nothing else that matters about the world around you. Not when you finally found each other. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie Kate & Leopold, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[phant0mth1ef]

girl dad bakugou hcs / can be read as a standalone or as part 5 to bakugou x support course reader

- whenever they wanted to play dress up, the man would argue with two five year olds happily oblige and put on a custom made princess dress that you had bought him.

- his kids were big deku fans growing up and everytime he was forced to buy merchandise he would secretly grind his teeth and grip the shopping cart handle just a little harder.

- he ended up having to take them to meet deku and he was ticked off the whole time, but still took and framed the photo of his two little girls that were as happy as they could be.

- his daughters were daddy’s girls through and through.

- his fans would definitely make thrist trap posts about him as a dilf, and you’d read them to him as he made dinner, almost falling off the kitchen counter while trying to catch your breath when someone said “till? WE’RE NOT STOPPING ❌”

- his fans would also post about how the biggest and baddest man is getting bossed around by you on a daily, making him seem small and meek.

- although he tries his hardest to keep his little family out of the spotlight, they do sometimes end up making the front page & his daughters are always dressed to the 9’s and posing in full force for the cameras.

- it was as if each kid was a carbon copy of him, inheriting his hair and red eyes, one even going so far as to get a similar quirk, and your other daughter wanted to be just like her mother, pursuing a career in the support course.

- one of his daughters actually wanted to go to shiketsu but he wouldn’t allow it.

“anything that isn’t ua is just less than! all the second rate heroes came from shiketsu and i will not allow my daughter to become second rate like that damn wind dude!” he was sitting on the couch while your daughter was trying to discuss shiketsu’s entrance exam with you.

- his daughters called him mister boom boom from the age of 4 to about… wait they never stopped calling him that!

- he wanted to name one of your kids dyna and the other might.

- you settled and let him have dyna but got to name your other kid who you named akari after your favorite assistant at mirko’s agency.

- his daughters worshipped him growing up but begun to make fun of him as they got older due to his funny lack of temper and the way he never talked back to you. ever.

- he made sure his daughters knew to never settle for less.

- imagine how annoyed he was when dyna came home talking about this boy she had met at ua, an electric type.

“hah?” “you are not dating dunce face’s offspring! break it off now! the dude’s second rate and i’m sure that kid of his is too! not good enough. no way.”

- glared at kaminari’s son the whole time when she brought him and his family over to meet you.

- akari was just like you, and maybe that’s why your husband chose not to anger her as much as he did dyna, but he always made sure to show up to her support events, and to always be her number one fan at each and every one of them bevause he remembered something you’d said back in highschool.

“support is a great career path, i just wish people would acknowledge it more because we don’t get nearly enough attention for as much as we do.”

- would instantly try to intimidate every boy your daughters ever brought him, kinda like phil dunphy in that one modern family scene where it’s like:

“that’s my little girl! i need her to know no guy on earth is good enough for her.”

- ultimately the man just loves his daughters and is so happy that he has them despite the fact that sometimes he doesn’t seem like it.

[torakowalski]

Continued from here but heading all the way back to the beginning. (Not yet) Olympic Swimmer Steve, Hawkins Public Pool, summer 1986:

Eddie isn't a natural swimmer, but he has to find some way to regain the strength those fucking bats took. So when he finds out that Steve and Max are both doing their physio in the public pool, he blows Wayne's mind by demanding he goes to Melvalds and buys Eddie some swim trunks.

Not that Eddie is a follower. But if the rest of Team Rehab is in the pool, then Eddie is gonna be in the pool too.

The problem is that now Eddie is in the pool. He's wet, he's exhausted, and he's wearing nothing except what's basically soaked, clingy underwear, while Steve fucking Harrington looks majestic and gorgeous, swimming lengths not ten feet away.

"It's better through binoculars," says Max. She's sitting on the edge of the pool, even more tired out that Eddie is. Eddie is half taking a break and half making sure she doesn't slide off the side and drown.

"Hm?" Eddie asks.

"Steve. Shirtless. It's hotter through binoculars."

Eddie has one second of limb-freezing, stomach-tightening terror, the same second he always gets, no matter whether someone is being too perceptive or whether he's deliberately outing himself.

He makes himself breath through it.

"Jesus Christ, Maxine," he says and gets kicked in the back for his troubles. He'd like to think the kick is gentle because she's worried about his injuries, but it's probably just the hardest she can kick, right now. "Maybe I'm looking at his form."

Max laughs. "Well, yeah."

Eddie gives up. He looks over his shoulder at her. She has the expression of a person who is cool about you being queer and also wants you to know that she's cool about you being queer and also is fifteen and doesn't want to have fucked up.

Eddie makes himself be brave back. "Is it me or is he just getting more built, while you and I flounder around over here, just trying to regain any muscles at all?"

"He's here like, all the time," Max says. "Like hours before us and hours after we go home. He says it turns his brain off."

Eddie can kind of see that; it's definitely harder to think about all the shit that went down at spring break when you're busy trying not to get chlorinated water up your nose.

"Doesn't he have his own pool though? I'm damn sure he has his own pool."

Max shrugs. "I think it got earthquaked." She lifts her head, using a hand to shield her eyes. "Hey, who's that?"

Eddie looks where she's looking and sees a middle aged dude in red swimming trunks and a white t-shirt squat down at the far end of the pool, catching Steve's attention when he surfaces after what must be his fiftieth length in a row.

They're too far away to hear what's being said, but Steve pushes his hair back off his face and bobs in place, clearing listening hard. They talk for a while, long enough that Eddie and Max both start shifting, Max - like Eddie - clearly wondering if they need to stage a rescue.

Then the guy nods to Steve and stands up, walking away, while Steve turns, looking around.

When he spots Eddie and Max, he swims over, all long, and golden and wet.

"Who was that?" Eddie asks, when Steve pops up next to them. "Trouble?"

"No." Steve shakes his head, clear drops of pool water flying from the ends of his hair. "No, he's a swim coach here. He says I'm good."

"Duh," says Eddie.

"You know you're good," says Max.

Steve grins. He does know he's good; it's written all over his face. But so is some bafflement and Eddie doesn't think that's faked.

"Yeah, but like, he wants to train me. He thinks I could compete?"

"Like at the Olympics?" Eddie asks, not totally sure where else swimming people go to swim.

Steve laughs, but only a little meanly. "Jumping a hell of a lot of steps there, Munson. But maybe State? I could maybe do State? I was supposed to be at tryouts last year, but." He shrugs.

"But Billy gave you a massive concussion," Max fills in for him.

Steve shrugs again.

Max kicks him, about as hard as she kicked Eddie. "You better have said yes to that guy or so help me I'll crawl after him myself."

Steve rolls his eyes at her, but they're sparkling. He looks excited, pleased in a way that Eddie hasn't seen for months. "Yeah," he says. "I said yes."

(Part three now here)

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Taming the Supe

✨ Soldier Boy x Fem!Therapist!Reader ✨

Minors do ¡NOT! interact with this post. Thanks.

A/N: Let me be upfront and say that I actually haven’t seen the boys 😭 not my cup of tea as far as shows go. So this perception of SB might be very far off. But like, he’s hot and he keeps showing up on my feed so this is happening >:) and in my defense I did try to do a little bit of research on America’s Ass(hole), so hopefully that shows lol. From what I understand he’s a TERRIBLE person who just so happens to be extremely attractive, so slay. Oh, also, to any therapist reading this: I am so, SO sorry.

Icons by me! Any and all interaction is very much appreciated!

Also- I’m looking for a beta reader/ editor! If you think you’d be interested, dm me!

Content Warnings: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 🌶️honestly that about sums it up. There’s SOME- A LITTLE- plot but it’s more plop if you catch my drift. This is toe-curling, eyes-rolling, name-screaming, tsunami-coming level shit, ya hear?? At least, that’s what I went for. ;)

Just note that SB is… very SB for the better half of it. And he has an INSANE breeding kink.

The ending’s real rushed cause honestly this was mainly written for the spice, but hopefully it’s enjoyable!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible. In all regards.

He was a jackass- apple didn’t fall far from the tree as far as he and his dad were concerned. It wasn’t necessarily Ben’s fault; you cant help your blood. But because of said aforementioned father, Ben was brought up on misogynist ideals and the ideal that he was simultaneously both a disappointment and the bearer of a massive god-complex. The former applied to when he was around his father, the latter to when he was around literally anyone else.

Not only that, but he was separated from society for forty years, being tortured- sorry, “experimented on”- by a skeevy Russian organization that his own teammates had pawned him off too. Sure, he had committed massive, unforgivable atrocities, but quite frankly, the other supes on Payback weren’t much better. Maybe not as bad, but certainly not much better.

He re-walked upon the United States at the very young age of one hundred and three, coupled with PTSD, a god complex and more “back in my day” rants than your weird old uncle could ever hope to spew.

And now the thing is: it’s easy to make him look like he blends in. Trim the disheveled forty-year-old beard, give him some boyish bangs, throw him in a tight white shirt and a Giants jersey with grey sweats and all of a sudden you have a normal looking, abnormally attractive dude. Looks maybe thirty seven. Has a smile that has probably actually, literally charmed the pants off of someone.

But to make him act right? That’s the hard part.

That also where you came in.

You were a therapist with a damn good reputation. Shouldn’t have been involved with Supes in the slightest, but you owed Hughie Campbell a favor. Good kid who just so happened to have powers. So be it.

The kid had stumbled into your office a few years before Soldier Boy returned, and you had had multiple sessions before he dropped of the grid. You paid it no mind- you have a lot of clients, and therapy isn’t a good world to get attached to any of them.

But then one day, after one of Homelander’s many destructive “saves” of the city, you found yourself stuck in a burning building. By some miracle Hughie was in the same building, and he teleported you out and onto safer ground. Sure it was awkward being held up bridal style by a young dude who was ass-naked, but stranger things have happened.

Because of the save, you felt that you owed him, and told him as much. He was gracious, not wanting to take advantage of you, and you went back to not hearing anything from him.

That is, until just after the news article about Soldier Boy’s return broke out. It was definitely a headline that had caused you to raise a brow, but from what you knew America’s first supe was not what Vought made him out to be in the eyes of the public. He was an asshole who killed activists, and was most likely very racist. If anything, seeing the headline made you slightly wary for the good of the world. But you let it slide, figuring that if you already existed in a world where psychos like Homelander did you would probably be fine if there was one more.

Well, you were very much wrong.

A few days after the article broke out, Hughie called you. Asked if you would be okay to take you up on that favor. Of course, you said yes- you were only alive because of him. He had showed up to your house, and teleported you to a dinghy motel with no explanation, rendering you both in the same awkward situation as before. Him holding you bridal style, ass naked. If you had a nickel for every time he’s done that… you’d have ten cents, but it’s still oddly specific of it to happen twice.

“Listen,” he had said, setting you down. You had no choice but to do so, given that he was ass naked and it would be really awkward to see that. So you kept your eyes locked on his as he talked. “You know how Soldier Boy is back?”

“Mhm…” you nodded warily, knowing damn well that that was an ominous hook to your situation.

“Uh, he’s insane.”

“Sorry, he’s, like, he is? Presently?”

“Yeah… he’s in there and I think he would really benefit from a little therapy. His mind’s wired like a grandpa who has stories from every war.”

“Fuck, Hugh,” you cursed. He winced, his sweet eyes opened wide. “Sorry. It’s just.. are you kidding me?” Soldier Boy? It would probably take a team of specialists to figure out what’s going on in that head.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you at least try?”

“Only for you.” It was really hard to have resolve with those puppy dog eyes staring at you.

“Thanks, y/n. Really.”

So you had walked in behind him; waiting as he threw on some sweats that were in a plastic bag outside of the motel room door.

You walked in together, only to see the most beautiful man you’d ever seen sitting on the bed, shoes still on.

Look. Everyone has fantasized about Soldier Boy at least once in their lives. The pinnacle of physical perfection, charisma oozing from his pores- it was hard not to. You were no exception- in your younger years there had certainly been more than a few nights where you were fucking yourself to pictures or videos of him, pathetically rutting on your clit and wishing it was his huge, gloved hands instead.

Of course, that was well before the article on the truth about him broke out. After that he had majorly lost his sex appeal.

However, seeing him in person immediately flashed you back to being younger and sexually frustrated, wondering how a man like that even existed. He was even better looking in person, piercing green eyes boring holes into you.

Thankfully it only took one douchey comment to snap you back to reality.

“So prostitutes are still a thing?” he asked, the question directed at Hughie. You immediately balled your hands into fists at your side, ready to tell this old-ass off, before remembering that you were there on professional business.

“No, no, she’s a therapist,” Hughie told him. “Y/n L/n, the best in the business.”

“You brought me a shrink?” he laughed incredulously. “Fuck you, I don’t have shell shock!”

He definitely had shell shock.

You didn’t bother waiting for Hughie to answer. “Listen, Mr. Boy, I’m only here ‘cause I owe this kid a favor. Would it really pain you so much to talk about yourself for an hour?” Your hands were planted on your hips.

“Man, when did women get so feisty?” he asked, that 1950s accent oozing through his words.

“Once they came to their senses,” I say with sass.

“So what? All I have to do is talk to a pretty thing about me?”

“Pretty much,” you conceded, ignoring the “compliment” he payed you.

“Fine.” Great. He agreed. How wonderful.

“I’m going to get some food, I’ll be back in an hour. If you need anything at all, just text me,” Hughie told me. “Thanks again.”

“Sure,” you replied, leaning in by his ear. “I think you’re going to owe me after this.

“Yeah, you’re probably not wrong,” he agrees, patting you on the back before teleporting away to the store. Man, this power thing… never gets any less weird.

“Take a seat,” Soldier Boy patted his lap.

“Hilarious,” you rolled your eyes, sitting on the other bed. Look, if he hadn’t been the jackass you knew him to be you most definitely would’ve sat on his lap. But you knew better. At least in the moment. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“M’name’s Ben, and I’m a soldier. My daddy hated me, so became a superhero. Surprise, surprise, he still hated me. But I’m better, stronger than he ever was. Might go take a piss on his grave while I’m here.”

“Interesting,” you murmur, putting together a mental file. Name: Ben. No last name? Weird. Daddy issues- makes the god complex make sense. Hmm. “Did you ever have a mother in the picture?”

“No. Died when I was a boy.” Added to file.

“Okay, so then why take the serum?” You know why, but you want to see something.

“You deaf? I said it was cause my daddy hated me.”

“You took a untested, potentially dangerous serum just because of your daddy issues?” you ask, matching his rude tone.

“You- you know what? This is boring. How about you and I fuck instead of this, hm?” he asks. Him saying the word fuck turned you on more than it should, but his misogyny was a quick turnoff.

“I think I’m just going to text Hughie,” you said, moving to stand, wholly unimpressed.

“Wait, no- I did it cause I hated feeling weak. Feeling stupid. Thought it would turn me into someone, just turned me into a jackass machine,” he said honestly, his eyes big and sad.

“Okay,” you said simply, sitting back down. That’s much more like it. “So then what led you to murder innocent people?”

If this were a normal session you would have never asked such a thing. Ever. But this was anything but normal.

“What did you just say to me?” And there it was. A glimpse of that Soldier Boy quick temper. You probably shouldn’t have been making him mad, but you didn’t know how else to go about this given that you weren’t in your professional environment.

“You heard me,” you told him with your arms crossed, trying to bite back the fear caused by

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns, fists balled at his sides. “A question like that’s gonna cost ya.”

You roll your eyes, standing my ground. “Why. Did. You. Murder. Them?”

“Because they deserved it,” he yelled, standing up. You do your best not to flinch, but he was an imposing six-and-some feet tall.

“How? Did the Milk family deserve it? Did their son?” you yell, fighting off the fear in your voice.

He stops then, jaw clenching. “I was the good guy. The hero.” His voice breaks, ever so slightly. His green eyes burn holes into yours. You stare right back, just as intensely.

“So, imposter syndrome.”

“No!” he roared, the sound threatening to bring down the roof of the motel room.

“They were good people. Activists. Made a difference in their community.”

“That got what was coming to them.”

“What? A car being thrown at their house?”

“You…” he steps closer. You sit up in the bed, back against the headboard. “You don’t know me.”

I stand up then. Not nearly as tall as him, but in anger. “Yeah, but I know your actions.”

“Then you should think I’m a hero.”

“I don’t.” I say grimly, arms crossed.

“I’m Soldier Boy, for Christ’s sake,” he spat.

“Yeah, and I’m Y/N L/N. Who fucking cares.” Well this went from therapy to argument real fast.

He leans down then, by my ear. It’s all you can do not to back away as his hot breath fans the column of your neck. “Maybe you should.” His voice is gravelly, rough from anger but also from something else…

“Well I won’t.” You said, maintaining your ground.

“Wrong move, sweetheart,” he said, before crashing his lips to yours. You squeaked into the kiss, surprised, but he just took initiate to shove his tongue in your mouth, exploring with great fervor.

And you knew damn well how wrong this was. How unprofessional you had been; how bad it was that his tongue, this tongue of a murderer, was half down your throat. But in the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, because he was just that good of a kisser. Made you forget about the misogyny and his volatility. At least, for the time being.

He pulled away, smirking down at you.

“If we do this, you’re going to talk to me after. Act like you’re an adult,” you told him sternly, as if your underwear wasn’t soaked with arousal from the kiss.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled.

“I fucking mean it,” you reiterated, hands on his pecs.

“And I fucking said fine,” he retorted. “Ben,” he introduced as an after thought.

“Okay, cool. Ben.”

“That’s the name I better hear coming off those pretty lips in a couple minutes here,” his gaze darkened with lust, emerald green eyes darkened to the color of a forest cloaked in the dead of night..

“O-okay.” And there it is, the first time you gave into the stutter derived from your desire. This was dangerous, but once he kissed you again you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

When he pulled away he thumbed at your lower lip, and you immediately react led to his touch, mouth falling open around the digit. “Good girl,” he praised, and you hated the way you felt proud at his words. He pulled off his jersey and under shirt, urging you to do the same until you both stood before each other, topless. He crowded you against the bed until you fell back, calves draped over the edge. He made room for himself between your legs, kissing you furiously, and you let out little breathy sighs as he did so.

“Attagirl,” he breathed when you gasped his name as he bit along your collarbone. He continued his fiery trail, from the juncture of your earlobe and neck to your collar bone and then down your chest, and you knew damn well that you weren’t going to be able to cover up half of the marks he gave you. But you also couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“You-you can come in me,” you mumbled as he kisses the valley between your breasts.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I’ll fill you up real good” he said, eliciting a gasp from you when he bites your nipple.

He continued his path of kisses down your body, and in the bottom of your eye you could already see dark marks on the tops of your breasts, making your head fuzzy.

He stopped at your pants, biting the juncture of your hip and and thigh.

“‘m gonna get you ready for me,” he explained, before ripping off your pants and underwear in one go. This is not a metaphor, he literally tore them of you. You whined in protest, but he dismissed you, saying “I’ll get you new ones.”

And even though you knew he most definitely wouldn’t, his breath on your clit stopped you from caring.

He gave you no warning before diving into your soaked pussy, and you all but screamed his name when he fid, your fingers grasping his hair for dear life. He groaned into your cunt but kept going, spurred on by your actions.

The thing was, you hadn’t expected him to be good at eating pussy. He was from, like, the forties, after all. You thought that most people then probably didn’t bother as no one really cared about women and probably their pleasure back then.

Well, Soldier Boy- Ben- was very different.

He worked at you methodically, licking long stripes before thrusting his tongue in an out of you, testing the waters. He kept eye contact, and you could feel the smugness in his gaze as he watched you come apart.

Eventually he switched so that he was sucking on your clit, which would’ve been enough to bring you over already but then he added one of his long, thick fingers to your pussy. You yelped his name, not ready for the stretch and on the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you urged, whining. “Please don’t stop, Ben.”

And he didn’t, adding a second finger and scissoring within you. If his fingers were already like this, his cock…

But you couldn’t think about that then, nor could you really think about anything at all because he started tracing tight patterns on your bud and added a third finger, stretching you so far that you had no choice but to come. He helped you ride out your high for longer than you thought possible, lapping up all of your release before standing up to full height.

“That good, Sweets?” he smirked, looking down at your fucked out self. You nodded dumbly, and he chuckled. “Thought so.”

Your release covered his facial hair, but he didn’t seem to care much, just wiped a little off with his forearm. He then kicked off his shoes and took off his pants and underwear, and that’s when you saw it.

You were already baffled by him- beyond hot, perfect physique, pussy-eating champion, etc.

But his cock? It was huge. And it was perfect, a word that shouldn’t be able to be used to describe the male genitalia.

“Ben- that’s not going to fit-,” you gasp, sounding like a cheap porno.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, and from his tone you could tell he was going to bottom out no matter what.

Oh, god.

He climbed over you, his large forearms on either side of your head as he rested over you in a plank. He put a pillow under your hips, and you knew you were in for it.

He rubbed his glorious dick over your hole, your clit, and through your folds, covering it in your slick, and you moaned his name.

“Good girl,” he praised, before finally lining up with your entrance. You were already clenching around nothing, but then he started pushing in.

If his fingers were big, his dick… even the tip had you a moaning mess.

“Oh, honey, you’re tighter than a virgin who’s never touched herself,” he groaned as he pushed in, you writhing beneath him. “‘n I just stretched you out, too.” The pillow under your hips let him get impossibly deep, and after an eternity he finally bottomed out, so large that you shouldn’t have been able to take him. But you did, and he hadn’t even done anything yet but you were a whimpering, whiny mess under him.

“I’m gonna move now,” he told you, before pulling almost all the way out and back in, slowly. You were writhing under him, but he was undeterred, and just kept going until you gave him easy access.

“Ben?” you asked, your voice sweet. And you didn’t know what possessed you to add the next part of your question, but you did. “Can you fuck me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he groaned, before rearing back again and slamming back into you. It was hard and it was rough, and it was exactly what you wanted even if you knew you weren’t gonna be able to sit right for a week.

You literally had a supe cock in you. You’d seen dildos of these, maybe even owned one, but nothing could do the real thing justice as you whined beneath it.

And if you thought it was already enough just taking him like this, once he started talking you were through.

“Yeah, take it,” he smirked, pounding into you at literal superhuman speed. “I’m going to destroy this cunt until we’re both leaking out of it, and then I’m going to keep going,” he promised against your collarbone, biting anywhere he pleased. You whimper against him, pussy clenching around his enormous length as it crashed in and out of your fluttering walls.

“You like that? Wanna be my little slut?” he grinned, rutting on your clit so you couldn’t answer. “You’d be a real good slut. Would just keep you at home all day, naked and always ready for me. Always full of me too,” he mused, his pace somehow getting rougher. Your mouth was dropped in a permanent ‘o’ as you reveled in the way his huge hands are squeezing your hips and pulling you against him, filing you to the base.

“No other boy can do it like me, sweetheart,” he said cockily. “Fill you up so good, make you mewl.” And as it turns out he was most definitively right about that. But then it was too hard to think about what’s right and wrong when-

“Ben- I- ‘m gonna-.”

“Aww baby, what’s the matter? ‘M I fucking you too good? You can’t talk?”

You moaned pathetically, pulling on his fluffy hair.

“I know, I know,” he said with a soft grunt. “Come for me, pretty thing. Come.” And you did. Hard, all consumingly. It hurt so good that you almost blacked out, but he kept going, doing his damnedest to overstimulate you.

“Ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart. Ain’t even close,” he told you, pulling you off of him and sitting, legs swung over the edge of the bed, feet planted on the ground. He grabbed you, letting you straddle his lap before slamming you down on his length. At this angle he could get impossibly deeper, his dick easily reaching your cervix on every thrust. You screamed, holding onto him for dear life with your face buried in his neck.

“Gonna fill you until you’re full, and then some,” he promised, lifting you up and down, flexing that super strength. “Rub on that pretty clit for me, doll,” he asked. You tried, you really did, but you were just so sensitive.

“That’s okay, I’ll do everything for you, you just take it like a good slut,” he cooed, bringing a hand between the two of you and rutting on your clit without abandon. You came again with a wail of his name before he pistoned into you sloppily, finally spilling his own release into you. And it was messy, and you were far too full to keep going, but he doesn’t care, somehow still hard even though he had just painted your walls with his thick, sticky cum.

You were babbling at this point, raking your nails against him as he kept going to town on your cunt.

“It’s just been too long, baby,” he explained, kissing the side of your head. “Got a little too much energy.” Yeah no shit, with the way that you knew that you were not going to be able to walk.

But he just couldn’t seem to shut up. “Y’know, if I had you back in my day we would’ve had ten kids. You would’ve give birth to one and then I’d put another one in you the next month,” he said as he continued his brutal pace. And damn, this man really had a breeding kink. It was not really your thing-kids tend to get in the way of careers, and also, you were infertile- but anything’s hot when it comes out of those plush lips with the 50s accent, so, naturally, you moan in response.

“Would’ve kept you sated all the time too, sweetheart. Any time you were hot and bothered, had an attitude… I’d fuck it out of you,” he murmured, enveloping you in his arms to hold you closer. You didn’t know if it’s the proximity to him, his voice, or the way that he hasn’t really let you come down from any of your highs, but suddenly you were coming again… just in a different way.

“Aww baby, did you just squirt?” he chuckled. You did all you can to further hide your face in his neck as he just kept going, only concious enough to register your embarrassment and fatigue. He pulls you by your hair to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, that was so hot.” You smiled, cheeks pink, your somehow still horny self proud of his compliment.

“It’s okay, just give me one more and you’ll be done, alright?”

“O-okay,” you say shakily. You hadn’t even noticed hot much your legs were quivering until then, and he laughed, squeezing them close.

“You’re so cute, y’know that?” he praised, rubbing your clit. Your blush became even more furious before you came again at him tracing patterns into your poor, overstimulated, sensitive bud. He came in you shortly after with a very sexy grunt, and it was just leaking out of you, going all over the tops of his thighs. He held you at the base of his cock though, not ready to pull out.

“You alright, Dollface?” he asked, gingerly moving- somehow while keeping his cock in you- you onto your back. You nodded, sleepiness overtaking you.

“Good girl,” he nuzzled your nose, gifting you the view of all of the pretty freckles on his cheeks looking like gold specs. You whined as he pulls out, and he tutted, plugging you up with his fingers.

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. If you were a supe we’d be going another ten rounds, but I know you’re tired,” he warned, cock still semi-hard.

“Ben,” you gestured towards it, unsure what you were going to say because as much as you wish you had his stamina, you didn’t.

“It’ll be fine, sweets,” he shrugged it off. “Perks of the unbelievable stamina.” He kissed your forehead, before lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of you in attempt to keep the cum in. Pitiful tears leaked out of the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation.

“There, there,” he cooed, kissing them away. “Just don’t want to waste any,” he smirked, before leaving his long, thick fingers where they were inside you, all the way up to the knuckle. Your legs can’t stop shaking, and you try to talk but you can’t.

“Let me get you some water, put your fingers here for me,” he said, waiting until you do so, feeling your sticky release on your hand. You knew damn well that you werenot going to be able to stand.

“Here, sweets,” he returned, still ass naked, holding a glass, taking your fingers out of your cunt and licking them clean. “We taste real good, sugar.” You whimpered, ready to go at it again, abused pussy be damned. Speaking of, the poor cleaning staff… your mixed releases were dripping out of your poor hole, coating the bed and the bottom of your thighs in the stickiness.

“You really are an insatiable little minx,” he chuckled, holding you up so you can take a sip of the water. You obliged, eagerly chugging it down.

“I’m not going to be able to walk,” you muttered, resting your head on his freckled shoulders.

“Looks like you’re going to need to stick around, so I can take care of you,” he squeezed you.

“I’ll tell Hughie to take another hour, tell him that the therapy’s going real well,” you suggested.

“Oh yeah, real well. Definitely a happy ending, if you catch my drift.”

“Multiple happy endings.”

“Atta girl,” he kisses the top of your head.

You sat there in silence for a bit, basking in the afterglow as he rocked you back and fourth gently.

You’d seen so many sides to this man: Misogynistic, quick tempered, sex-god… but sweetness? This was the one that surprised you. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

“Ben?” you broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I could help you, y’know. If you want, anyway. And it wouldn’t even be proper therapy- you know, cause we just- yeah.” your words were shaky but you meant them. There was something about the supe that made you think that maybe, just maybe you could help him.

“I dunno, sweets. I think I’m a little too far gone.”

Vulnerability. That’s progress.

“Could you at least try?”

“I can’t say no to you,” he said. And you’d take him up on that.

••••••••••••A Couple Years Later••••••••••••

Ben Johnson, as he was now known, ended up becoming a normal member of society. After a LOT of work, he’s grown into himself. He cares about people, his ego’s lessened, his temper too. You had helped him through the whole way- gotten him a proper therapist and everything. And now you two were a couple who could just go out and get donuts, and do normal couple things.

“They’re cream-filled!” he beams boyishly, his bangs in his face and his eyes sparkling. He sets the box down in front of you, somehow having already gotten powdered sugar in his beard. He leans in and whispers excitedly, “you know, like you!”

“You’re bad,” you giggle, as if you don’t have him leaking out of you where you sit. You had stopped for a quickie before you made it to the donut shop, it wasn’t your fault that you were so irresistible to each other.

“Not anymore, sweetheart,” he winks with a click of the tongue. Which is true- there’s a certain softness to him these days. His jaw isn’t so set, the crow’s feet by his eyes have deepened. He isn’t so volatile, his tempers dissolved a bit. He’s become more human.

Not to mention that he’s made great progress in apologizing to his victims and making amends to the best of his ability. It may never be enough, but now that he has someone to teach him how to be right and a better understanding of the complexities of the modern world, there’s a chance. And that’s a chance worth taking, to help someone who could’ve been good become good.

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible, but you had nailed it.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hope you enjoyed this fic! If you have any ideas for headcanons or fics, my ask box is always open! I don’t bite- not unless you want me too 😏 (so. So. Sorry 😭)

Xx!

[henry7931]

Beach Trip As My Friend’s Uncle

Miguel:

This is by far the best idea Zach and I have ever had! A few weeks ago, my best bud Zach begged his parents to let me come on their family beach trip but unfortunately they wanted to keep it a family trip.

That’s when Zach and I got a little creative. We decided to ask his cool Uncle Derek if I could swap bodies with him for a week. Now Derek isn’t your ordinary uncle, he’s pretty adventurous, single, likes to party, and is always down for some shenanigans. So when we asked if he’s willing to swap with me, he immediately said yes! He seemed to be just as excited to be me since he’s getting out of the family trip all together.

So we all met up that morning at Derek’s place. Zach already told his parents that he’s riding down with Derek. And when I arrived Derek already had a bag packed for me.

We quickly swapped bodies and it felt so cool being so much bigger.

I grinned at Derek in my body who also looked super happy. He pulled me in for a hug which felt so weird, I could have easily picked my body up like it was nothing.

As I hop into Derek’s nice truck, he says to us, “You boys have fun! And doing anything too crazy in my body!”

“Thanks Uncle Derek!” said Zach.

“Yes thanks again Derek, I’ll take good care of your body I promise!”

“Good and hey I packed condoms just in case things get too crazy. Don’t need my body coming back with anything.”

Zach rolls his eyes while I felt a warm sensation in my stomach. It just hit me that not only do I have Derek’s body for a week but I also have control of his massive package.

We get on the road and I pull off Derek’s shirt just to show off his tattooed pecs.

Zach’s sitting next to me so excited and says, “God this is so crazy! I mean look at you dude you’re inside my uncle right now.”

“I know man, this is about to be the best trip ever!”

When we arrive to the resort, Zach and I head to check in. We run into his family. We say our hellos to everyone and I’m surprised by how good of a job I’m doing at pretending to be Derek.

We get our room keys and head up. The room is huge! We even have our own bathrooms along with a balcony.

I put Derek’s bags on the bed and open them up to see what clothes Derek packed for me. But when I get to the bathing suits only two of them are normal ones— the rest are all speedos.

Zach pops in already in his bathing suit and says, “you about ready?”

“Uh no not yet give me a few,” I say to him.

“No rush bro! I’m gonna head down, I’ll see you in a few.”

As soon as Zach walked out of the room, I immediately got naked.

I look at Derek’s nude body, that’s when my eyes focus on the thick long dick that I now control.

I try my best to control my eager to touch it, laying back on the hotel bed. I didn’t want to risk Zach walking but I feel like I only have so much alone time with it.

I look down at Derek’s sexy size 11 feet, they’re beautiful and manly. I trace his fingers along his chest down to his cock and balls.

His dick is already hard, I start to stroke it and it feels amazing. It’s my first I’ve ever jerked off in someone else’s body. And it’s so different from mine.

I sit up and bring Derek’s big foot to my face smelling his toes as I wiggle them. I start licking his foot, still jerking his dick with my other hand.

I feel so close, I knew I was going to bust any minute. I let out a loud powerful grunt, inhaling his sole before cum bursts out all over.

I look over the mess I just made, damn that felt great. I whip some off of his chest and taste it. It taste’s so good.

I clean off his chest with a shower towel and grab one of his speedos.

I take a pic of myself to send to Derek and say, “you only packed speedos?”

I get a response a few minutes later, “well you look sexy in them. Send me more pics 😜”

I feel Derek’s cock start to get hard again from his text. Is he flirting with me?

[solitude4chiron]

Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE

He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK

He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5

“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”

“Never even played.”

“NIGGA WHAT?”

Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done

“How many do you have left?”

“Boy move that damn hand.”

Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”

“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”

“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”

Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball

Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food

Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes

“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”

“Y’all use that shi?”

“who df are you bro…”

Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public 

Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)

Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs

Hobie: Attachment: 1

disgusting creatures…

Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house

Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs

“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”

“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”

“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”

Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)

On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)

Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist

Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”

“Yo, were you stealing back there?”

“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”

“Nevermind.”

Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.

Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.

He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks

After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.

“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”

“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”

• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.

“imma get bro good this time..”

“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”

• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.

• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.

“Are you playboi carti?!”

“Bruv.”

over.

“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”

“bru…”

and over.

“you Opium?”

“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”

and over again.

• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.

“you good young’n?”

“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”

“that’s cool too”

• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.

• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around

• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.

• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.

anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛

[faeflowerz]

Savanaclaw Imprinting on You

I have nothing cheeky to say. Let's do this.

Warnings: My gross misunderstanding of animals, Bullying Leona for being a big chonk

Characters: Ruggie, Jack, Leona

Ruggie imprinting on you is an "oh shit" moment for him. He lives his life so casually and when he sees you, like really sees you for the first time, he's acting unwise. Ruggie will do things for you that he wouldn't for anyone else. He doesn't ask for you to return the favor. He even shares his food.

Now this last one is particularly special for him given that he values food more than his peers. Food is how he communicates and finds pleasure. I won't get too far into the feederism side, but I think there'd be a lot of "You should eat. Have you had breakfast?"

But it's not all picnics and dandelions. Hyenas are pretty scary if you piss em off. So if one of your guy friends touches you the wrong way or tries to tease him about his sudden obsession with you, he will go on the offense. Lots of growling and hes ready to turn them into a hashtag. You gotta drag him away every single time.

"Dude, you can't just go around picking fights with everyone! What's your damage, Ruggie?"

"I wouldn’t be so mad if those assholes kept their hands off of you!"

"That's what this is about? They mess around all the time, it's not a big deal."

"It is to me! I don't like it!"

"Okay, but why though? Why would you give a fuck?" You shake your head, frustrated by the look he was giving you.

"Because I'm jealous!" He barks. "I don't want anyone else touching you but me!" Everything is quiet as you try to process what he just said.

"Ruggie...what-"

"I like...being around you all the time. And all I can think about is you. And...ugh...this is so stupid." His cheeks are cute and pink as he mumbles his way though his confession. And you, you're smiling. Seeing him get so real with you is so sweet and touching. As he's trying to justify his behavior, you place a sweet kiss on his nose. Then he's all shishishi cause he got kissed.

When Jack imprints on you, he's pretty tsundere about it. Suddenly he's hanging around you and by extension the other first years. Its not like he loves you and how you smell and the way you laugh at your dumbass friends. He just...needs to be within five feet of you at all times. Oh, and that tail? It's wagging every single time you acknowledge him or give him attention. The most antisocial boy is suddenly craving your affection.

And of course Ace is gonna clown him for it. Though it feels a little bit different. "Is there somethin you're not telling us? No fair that you two have A Thing going on the down low."

"What are you even talking about?" Jack crosses his arms, clearly trying to keep cool.

"Come on, dude. You lit up when Prefect sat next to you," Ace pouts at the both of you before calling you out too. "Are you together?!"

"Wh-what?! What would make you think that?!"

And all of your friends have examples. Waay too many. And then, Ortho says, "You know, imprinting can happen to beast men too. There's a chance that-"

"What happens between me and Prefect is our business. I didn’t ask any of you to help me confess either."

Major self report. His tail is going a trillion per hour and he realizes what he just said. "Damn it."

"Ha! I knew it!" Ace chortles.

"Wow...that was pretty bold, Jack," Epel hides his grin behind his hand. As for you...

Well, you're smiling like an idiot. It's not like you haven't been purposefully saying and doing things to see his tail wag, make his ears flicker and see him smile a little. You can't pretend to be shocked as you look at Jack for a response. "Well, I guess I should have been honest from the start..."

So there you are, resigned to be a pillow for the biggest cat you've had the misfortune of knowing. Leona loves your thighs and like hell he's going to pass up on your free period to get some sleep. You've accepted your fate, but your legs are just as comatose as he is. As you try to shift around, this catman actually whines in protest. Inside, he's praying you didn't hear it. "Stop moving," he manages to say.

So, Leona's imprinted on you. Now what? Well, you're gonna know quite quickly. Like, it's kind of not a secret since Leona is so shameless with everything he does. Though, he won't actually say "I've imprinted on you." His actions are all the confirmation you need. Actually, he's the most overbearing because he will just drag you away from whatever you're doing just to take a nap with him. Are you in the greenhouse for a class? Well, too fucking bad. Leona wants you to give him attention. You know. Like a cat.

"M'leg's asleep," you complain. "Plus you're heavy."

"Neither of these are my problem."

"You're literally responsible for both."

"You callin me fat?"

"...maybe I am," Leona opens one eye to glare up at you. He wants to be mad. But seeing you so pleased by his reaction makes him melt a little. "What? All you do is eat and sleep what else am I supposed to think?" To your surprise, he sits up. You're about to ask but he flops on top of you, sending you both into the soft patch of grass. Leona's spooning you and your face is buried in his fat (and kind of fuzzy) tits. "Seriously?!"

"Look, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that you're one of the few people I can tolerate."

He's a real piece of work, isn't he? Still, his body is kind of warm and cuddly, huh? He would probably get mad if you said that out loud though.

[wolfish-trickster]

You made your choice

Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

Previous part

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: you asked Gojo who is more important to him, you or his bestfriend. He indirectly chose and now he's experiencing consequences of his own action (probably for the first time in his life).

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @nanao4k

A/N: I recomend listening to this song while reading (was listening to it while coming up with the story, the song and the story aren't exact copies of eachother but the vibe is about the same) and to those who know me THE LINK IS SAFE TO CLICK I DIDN'T LINK IT WITH WHAT YOU THINK I SWEAR. Enjoy the reading 😊

"Hey, can I come over?"

"Dude, you were just here!"

"I know, I know. But I need a shoulder to cry on."

"Damn, that bad? What happened? You and Y/N had a fight or...?"

"Can I just come over?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Geto Suguru has had a lot of weird moments with his best friend, but that phone call certainly was...something. No explanation, no joking around, just straight to the point.

About fifteen minutes later he heard his front door open.

"Satoru, did you learn how to teleport or something? We live an hour away from eachother," Geto joked before he could even turn around and see the state his friend was in. Disheveled hair, dry lips, red eyes. Something terrible must've happened.

"It's Y/N," was all Gojo said before he sat down at the dining table.

"Figured that much," replied Geto and took a seat next to him and waited. He knew Gojo. That man can't shut his mouth to save his own life. He'll spill everything sooner or later.

Gojo let his head fall on top of Geto's and sighed. Geto patted his fluffy white hair and kept on waiting. Good thing was they both sat right across a big window. Geto could count pine cones on the nearby trees while he waited for Gojo to open up.

It didn't take long.

"Y/N left."

"WHAT?!" Geto pushed the white head off of his shoulder and took Gojo by the shoulders. "What happened? What did you do?" He stared him in the eye.

Gojo just blinked. "I don't know! I don't think I did anything wrong," he looked oit the window again. A squirell jumped from one branch to another.

Geto rolled his eyes and turned Gojo's face back to his. "Satoru, people don't just up and leave. You must've done or said something that hurt her feelings. What did I tell you about comunication being-"

"Being the cornerstone of a good relationship, I remember," he put his hands on Geto's cupping his face. "We did talk. And I thought we came to a mutual understanding. Then I offered to cuddle with her and went to shower but once I walked out she was gone. All her things too..."

"Wow," Geto let go of his friend's face, "what a bitch."

"Right?" Gojo agreed and leaned back on his chair so far it was threatening to fall. "I don't understand. She never complained before, never said anything, then all of a sudden she pulls a stunt like that, throws a scene, slips into her selfhating thing again-"

"Wait, she what?" Geto asked confused. He has met you enough times to know you were very cheerful and life-loving person. What was Gojo talking about? Selfhatred?

"She has these moments,"he explained, "thinks she's too fat, then not curvy enough, thinks she's too basic to be with a guy like me, so on. When it happened the first few times i comforted her but even after all those years she still thinks of herself as less than and I'm too damn tired of it. I thought all of those negative thoughts would go away the first time I assured her I love her no matter what," he crossed his arms on his chest and looked out the window again. "I'm starting to feel like she's doing it for attention."

"Listen Satoru, maybe she's just extremely selfconscious and people like her need reassurance like that. Besides if she was really doing that for attention she wouldn't leave withoit a word. She would leave hints for you to find her and come beg her on your knees or something."

Gojo chuckled. "Suguru, you've got to stop watching Shoko's telenovelas."

"I'm a slut for drama."

A phone rang.

In a speed of light Gojo pulled out his phone hoping to see your lovely face. The screen was black.

Geto pulled out his ringing phone and picked up. "Well well, speak of the devil," he smiled.

Gojo couldn't hear what him and Shoko were talking about. He could only take hints from Geto's facial expressions and his occasional answers.

"What do you mean you have to cancel it? Oh. Okay. I understand. And did she tell you what-" his eyes got wide. "But wait, that's not- I didn't- Actually he's right next to me."

Gojo tried to get closer to hear what they were talking about but Geto jumped up and walked across the room.

"Okay. Okay, i'll ask him. No, that's fine. Alright. Take care, both of you. Bye," he hung up. Then slowly turned around to face Gojo now standing opposite him.

"Now you'll tell me exactly what had happened between you two. You said she caused a scene, what was it about?"

His mouth turned into neutral line, just like when you started this whole mess. "She asked me to stop seeing you. Can you believe that? Trust me, if I told her to stop seeing her friends all hell would break lose."

"Isn't that what happened when she asked you?" Geto pointed out the obvious double standard but Gojo wasn't listening.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? She wanted me to spend more time with her. Like, what does she want me to do? Make me and her morph into one being?"

"It is true that you've been spending a lot of time with me," Geto held his chin between his fingers in a thought. "But I don't get one thing. If you being away from her this often was a problem for her then she must've shown signs, not encourage you to come and spend time with me when she was too busy herself."

"About that," Gojo nervously played with his shades. "I might've over-exagarated that."

"Don't tell me..." Geto pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She wasn't always busy when I came here."

"Satoru!" He half shouted. "You always told me she was too busy and couldn't come! Why would you lie?"

"Because i felt trapped!" He yelled back. "I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Yes, being around has brought me so much joy but I missed the thrill of being free. Just being with you and Shoko and doing whatever. Now I just feel like I'm chained to something that I kinda want away from but also not," the entire time he spoke he was pacing back and forth. "I just wanted to feel like the old times."

"So in other words you miss the feeling of being single but you also like the benefits relationship gives you," Geto concluded. "I thought you were better than this."

"And I thought you would understand," Gojo turned his anger against his best friend who was calmly standing in the living room. "But wait, I forgot, you have no one," he mocked.

"Damn right I don't. Which makes me even more pissed off when I see how you treat your own relationship! Have you got any idea how much I envied you for having someone waiting for you at home and welcome you after a long day? Or just someone to be there for you in general?"

Gojo got silent. He didn't know. Geto never showed it.

Geto took it as his chance to try speak some sense into Gojo. "Listen, you only feel like this because you've never been in a relationship. Feeling trapped is normal, I think. What's important is that you love her and you're capable of changing to get her back, right?"

Gojo was just looking at him.

"Right?" Geto said a bit more panicked.

"I don't know!" Gojo exclaimed and Geto facepalmed. "I don't know how to choose between her and you."

"Is that what she asked? For you to choose between her and me?"

Gojo shook his head. "No, I think she just wanted me to spend less time with you."

"So she didn't out right prohibit you from hanging out with me, she only asked for you to stay with her more often," Geto was slowly but surely getting the whole picture.

"Something like that," Gojo shrugged.

Geto sighed. "You royally fucked up Gojo Satoru."

"No, really?" sarcasm dripped from his words. "I still think I did nothing wrong. She has no right to aks me to spend less time with you."

"She does actually. She's your girlfriend of what, three years?"

Gojo nodded.

"Three years and yet you place her beneath a best friend. How would you feel like if she had to choose between her best friend and you and she went for the friend?"

Suddenly, Gojo looked like it finally hit him. "I'd feel...terrible," he sat down on the chair. "But... but I didn't tell her I would choose you. Both of you mean so much to me."

"On the same level or a different one? Satoru, understand that the love for a friend and a love for a lover are two separate kinds of love. You not being able to distinguish between them caused you to be in this mess."

Geto walked over to where Gojo sat and towere over him. He put a reassuring hand on his wide back. "Let me ask you this: what do you want right now? To be with her?"

Gojo stayed silent. He didn' know what he wanted. He hated the fact that he can't have both a friend and a lover. Choosing one would mean losing the other in Gojo's eyes. He can't afford that. Not when both of his most treasured people made him so happy.

Geto took his silence as a no. "You know what I think? You didn't want to have her. You just wanted others to see you have her."

His words cut like a knife. Why? Why do his loved ones have to be this cruel? He only looked up from the floor to his best friends almost black eyes. His own baby blues were watery. A lump took place in his throat. With a horror he realised how weak he feels. One half of him already packed her things and walked away, he can't let the other half do the same.

"Do you hate me now?" He whispered, affraid if he will speak any louder he would cry.

Geto took a while. Then shook his head. "No Satoru, just dissapointed."

Gojo nodded and looked back down to the floor.

Few minutes passed. None of them said anything. After Gojo was completely sure he won't fall apart he spoke up. "Do you think I can fix this?"

"Hmm," Geto hummed and pulled out a chair to sit opposite him. "Fixing means returning to its original state. I don't think things will go back to normal."

"But, I don't want to lose her. I know I don't!"

"Then you must set your priorities straight."

"But-" Gojo looked into Geto's eyes again. "That would mean I will loose you and that's equally as bad."

Geto shook his head. "You won't loose me. I'll still be here. You can still come over and we can still hang out. It just won't be like before."

"And that's what I don't want," Gojo mumbled and crossed his arms again while leaning into the backrest.

"Truthfully, if I had a girlfriend as amazing as Y/N I would spend a lot of time with her and not you."

Gojo swore he could feel his heart crack. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, "that it's only natural to pick your lover over your friends. Not always, of course, but often enough."

Geto lifted his head to see his friend pale as a ghost, his skintone could now rival with his hair. He immediatelly regreted what he said. "But as I said, even if that was the case, even if you chose her as your top priority, which you should've as a good boyfriend, then it wouldn't mean I would cease to exist. And if I get someone in the future and I do the same you won't cease to exist to me either. You are my best friend, Satoru," he placed a hand on Gojo's shoulder, "and no girl will ever change that."

Gojo's ocean blue eyes let some tears slipped. He realized that his best friend is right, as always. Geto will always be there. And sure, even after he gets busy in his own life and won't have time for Gojo and his antics anymore, that wouldn't mean they would change into strangers to one another.

Gojo quickly wiped his tears and nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want tk fix this. I want to evolve this. I want her back. I want to learn to love her again. Properly this time."

"You sure about that?"

Gojo nodded.

"Even after she won't forgive you?"

"Why wouldn't she? She's smart. She will understand. Besides, how can you rehect the best man in the world?" He forced out a chuckle.

Geto shook his head. "Arrogant and full of yourself as always."

"Yeah, what can you do..."

Geto's phone buzzed again. But this time nkt from a phone call but a message. Geto took out his phone, gave it a short glance and put it back into his pocket.

"Was it Shoko?"

Geto shook his head. "Just my reminder. Me and Shoko planned to go see a movie."

"Oh, is that what you talked about canceling?"

Geto nodded. "Y/N knocked on her door and asked to stay a few days. From what Shoko told me she was a mess."

Gojo slumped forward on his chair and hid his face in his hands. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

Geto hummed. "Do you know what this is callled? Consequences. Hurts, doesn't it?"