#I always think it’s weird how my sister doesn’t...

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Christmas Family Swap 2

Last Christmas I gave you my heart….or my body more like. A year ago on Christmas day, my family woke up to find we had all swapped bodies with each other. My sister Em with my mom, my brother Calvin and sibling Sam, and worst of all - me with my grandpa Boris.

It all happened because of a magical Christmas knickknack that broke when my grandpa dropped it. We were all stuck in the wrong bodies permanently. Calvin and Sam adapted the easiest, being similar ages and looks, though with completely different styles. Calvin went back to college in Sam's body, and somehow managed to convince everyone that all he did was shave his beard and lose weight. He did gain a good amount back, much to Sam's horror. Sam immediately shaved the beard off once they found out this was permanent, and got their ears repierced. Surprisingly, they didn't seem too preoccupied with losing weight, and seemed to embrace being chubby. They did start to shave all the chest hair off though.

Em reapplied to the same college she went to, under my mom's name, and actually got in. I guess she didn't mind how much older she was, and what people would think of her. Me on the other hand…well let's just say it'd be so embarrassing being a fat old guy in college. Not to mention how hard it would be walking to each class lugging around a huge belly. My joints were so tight as well.

I started living in his house, and surprisingly he actually let me, probably because he knew that if he tried to fight back, the neighbors would take my side because they wouldn't recognize him. I knew he got an apartment somewhere, but other than that, I didn't know anything about where he lived or what he'd been doing. God I hope he was at least taking care of my body…but I guess that didn't matter now that I was permanently stuck like this.

This year I was the one hosting, since my grandpa's house was much nicer than my mom's. Of course he never wanted anybody there before but now that it was mine, I was happy to have everyone over. My mom came over early to help cook the food since I would probably ruin the dinner otherwise.

“Ferris, this place is a mess! Do you ever clean up around here?”

“Sorry.” It was still weird seeing someone that looked like Em, but knowing it was my mom behind her eyes. Being so close to the real Em made it hard to take her seriously sometimes when mom scolded me. It probably felt weird for her too. I was in the body of her dad!

“And are these ramen wrappers on the floor? I guess you do live like a college student afterall.”

“Yeah. At least the place doesn’t smell like cigarette smoke anymore.” My grandpa was an avid smoker, and when I swapped, I quickly began craving cigarettes. I gave in eventually, but managed to quit a few months ago. I guess since the body was the smoker but the mind wasn't, it was a little bit easier to quit.

A while later I got a text. I unlocked my phone to see it was from Em. My heart sank when I read the message.

“Hey Ferris, I'm gonna be bringing my new boyfriend if that's ok?”

I showed my mom the text and she copied my worried look.

“New boyfriend? Did she mention him before? I think it might be too soon to invite him to Christmas.”

“I think she kinda already decided before she even asked. I think it'll be fine. I mean we've been like this for a year so it can't be that hard.”

“If you say so. We could just pretend to be each other.” I'd mostly started a new life and identity in the past year, but there still were some times I had to pretend to be my grandpa, like with his neighbors. It wasn't that hard, and I guess I could always pretend I was going senile or something if it comes to it.

Sam and Calvin soon showed up and we were waiting on Em and her boyfriend. When we got the text that they were on their way, my mom began cleaning up a bit around the kitchen area.

“Ferris, go tuck in your shirt.”

“But mom, I hate doing that. It…makes my gut hang out.”

“I know, I know. But just do it because it'll look nicer. It's not every Christmas we spend with someone we don't know. You want to make a good impression.”

“Ugh fine.” She was right though, we did want to make a good impression, even if our family was definitely weirder than you'd think. I headed to the bathroom to straighten up. When I looked into the mirror, it reflected a face that I now recognized as my own. It felt weird to think I used to hate seeing it, both on me, and on my grandpa, back when it was his. I wanted to grow a beard to cover the double chin and wrinkles, only to find out I really couldn't - it just awkwardly grew in patches. So I settled on clean shaven. I was an old man; it's not like I needed to impress anybody with my looks anyway.

I grazed my hands through my hair, or what was left of my hair anyway, and combed it back a bit. I then pushed in my gut with one hand in order to unbuckle my pants. With the way my gut just hung down, I'd gotten used to wearing long shirts that covered it up entirely. Tucking in my shirt highlighted it, but I really had to now so I took it, tucked it into my pants, and buckled them back up. I hated the way it looked, my belly seemed even more round and obvious. At least my belly was tucked into my pants instead of it hanging out.

I walked into the living room to find that Em and her boyfriend had already arrived. He was a regular college aged guy; must've had a thing for older women, or at least physically older women. He walked up to me to shake my hand. Definitely not something I was used to, having someone around my real age act so formal.

“Ah you must be Grandpa Boris right? Nice to meet you. I'm Aaron.”

“Er yeah nice to meet you too.”

“Em told me all about you guys. You seem like a fun bunch! Someone's missing though.” We all went a bit silent for a moment, but I needed to ease the awkwardness so I kinda spat out my thoughts.

“Oh uh yeah Ferris. My…grandson. Hes uh not coming.”

“Aw why not? Em said he was her favorite brother.”

“Uhh rude!” teased Calvin. Em spoke up to finish the answer.

“He's got his own things going on.”

“Ah shame. I'd love to meet hi-” Just then the door suddenly swung open, and standing in the doorway was none other than my grandpa - and boy, had he changed. I barely even recognized my old body! The signature slim muscle and abs I had were replaced with a chubby stomach contained by a blue shirt. How did he even get that big in just a year? What had he been eating?

“What's everyone looking at me for? It's Christmas! Show a little cheer for god’s sake!” he shouted. I can't believe he did this to me! At least he kinda got what he deserved. He was super proud of his hot body but it looks like he just couldn't keep up with the work needed to maintain it.

“Hey, I'm Aaron, Em's boyfriend. It's nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you.” He replied hastily. My mom suddenly interrupted.

“Well uh. The food is ready now everyone so feel free to grab a plate!” My grandpa rushed to the kitchen to get his before anyone else. He stacked a huge amount of food on his plate. I never realized how much of an appetite I had in my old body. Maybe that's why he gained weight so fast.

When he sat down, I noticed he reeked of cigarette smoke. I was so angry I wanted to tell him off right there and then, but I held it in because I didn't want to upset Em. So I kept quiet throughout dinner until Aaron tried to make conversation.

“So Grandpa Boris, how are you doing? I'm sure having a nice family like this must be wonderful.”

“Uh yeah, it's-”

“He doesn't know shit about having a nice family,” interrupted grandpa. I had enough.

“You know, if you want a nice family, you kinda have to BE nice first!” I shouted. Everyone went silent until he fought back.

“I AM being nice! I came here for dinner after all!”

“Yeah, only to stuff your fat face and get presents!” He looked as though he was defeated for a moment, but then started up again.

“Hey, it's not my fault you got a SHIT METABOLISM!"

“I worked out everyday to get that fit. What's your excuse?” Aaron whispered to Em, in between yelling.

“What are they talking about?”

“It's uh complicated.”

“Well uh I do have a present for you Em,” said Aaron, trying to ease the mood back into cheerfulness. At the word “present,” my grandpa suddenly turned his attention toward Aaron. Em opened the gift to find a little knickknack of an elf wearing a purple outfit. Definitely a weird color for a Christmas thing. It reminded me of the knickknack from last year.

“Well where's my present now?”

“Oh uh sorry Ferris! I only got one for Em.”

“Dad, you're not getting a single present this year!” my mom shouted.“

‘Dad?’ What is she talking about?” Aaron was confused now.

“Go to hell all of you!” Suddenly he grabbed Em's present and unlike last year, smashed it- on purpose.

“Grandpa, what the hell!” Em shouted. Aaron looked shocked.“Why are you calling him grandpa? I'm really confused now.”

“It's um…” started Em. “We uh swapped bodies last Christmas.”

“WHAT?” The next couple minutes we spent reintroducing ourselves.

“Oh shit. So you're your own mom? That's freaky. Very freaky.”

“So wait, the real Ferris is Grandpa Boris? Oh man that's gotta suck.”

“And I was super skinny before he trashed my body,” I replied.

“Well anyway. We should clean this mess up,” started Em. “I don't know why we-” Suddenly it felt like pressure was building up inside my head and I noticed everyone else except Aaron got wide eyed.

“Uhh are you all ok?” The pressure feeling built up until it suddenly exploded and felt like I was flying across the room. My sight went dark for a few seconds until it all stopped. When I opened my eyes I was sitting at the other side of the table, looking at myself.

“What happened?” asked Calvin. “Oh shit a beard!” He grazed his hands over his beard. “Not again!”

It was then that we all realized what had happened. We were all back in our own bodies! Except…I was fat. I looked down at my hands to see a familiar freckle to confirm that I was back in my own body.

“Well this is awkward,” said Sam. “We spend the last year building new identities only for everything to go back to normal. That knickknack really returned to us again!”

“Hey at least we look like ourselves again! Well…poor Ferris.” I felt like I was about to cry. I began heading towards the bathroom to see the damage my grandpa had really done. I looked in the mirror and the sense of security I felt when I saw my own face was quickly shattered when I saw how chubby my cheeks were, as well as the double chin I didn't have before. I took my shirt off to find that my abs were completely gone, replaced with a flabby belly that hung over my belt. I had a pair of jiggly man tits as well.

I was used to being fat, but at least when I was in my grandpa's body, I didn't feel as insecure because most old guys are fat anyway. But now? I was just a young guy who really let himself go.

Suddenly I heard a door slam, so I put my clothes back on to see what happened. My grandpa was gone.“Yeah, he's never coming over here again,” said my mom.

“He's just…”

“Too much?” I replied.

“Yep.”

“Well, no need to be so down in the dumps everyone!” started Aaron. “It's still Christmas! Even better, the whole new year new you thing will be pretty literal with all of you.”

“Again,” replied Sam with a laugh.

“Merry Christmas!”

[skyward-floored]

It’s weird how some memories really stick with you and sort of shape you as a person in some ways but the other people involved like... don’t even remember it happening sometimes

[tonycries]

The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school. 

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt. 

Never mess with you. Anyone but you. 

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second. 

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team. 

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile. 

Everything. 

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else. 

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all. 

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss. 

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you. 

Everything. 

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio. 

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you. 

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries. 

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments. 

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew. 

You’d kissed him back. 

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister. 

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good. 

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up. 

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by. 

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling. 

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.” 

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.  

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine. 

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics. 

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked. 

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss. 

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door. 

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that. 

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for. 

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth. 

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours. 

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes. 

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship. 

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious. 

What did he have that Satoru didn’t? 

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his. 

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.” 

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom. 

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye. 

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually  more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn. 

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy. 

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh. 

Shit. 

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank. 

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck. 

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.” 

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now. 

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?” 

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.” 

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused. 

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today. 

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway. 

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there. 

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru. 

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms. 

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life. 

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned. 

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.” 

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you. 

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt. 

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you. 

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist. 

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?” 

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?” 

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you. 

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so. 

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots. 

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually. 

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit. 

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene. 

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?” 

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully. 

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out. 

Like you were about to snap. Any second now. 

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…”  Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt. 

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours. 

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection. 

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous. 

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.” 

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.” 

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.” 

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch. 

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag. 

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.” 

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact. 

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.  

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps. 

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling. 

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-” 

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-” 

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll. 

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.  

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt. 

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.” 

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.  

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white. 

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family. 

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[t2316m]

Cass is face blind, not like oh she’s bad at remembering faces but in an actual cannot for the life of her know who she’s looking at kinda way. Instead of faces she uses context clues, body language, and voices to tell who she’s interacting with. She’s gotten pretty good at it each of her family members having an obvious tell that it’s them. Some of them include how Dick always has blue incorporated into his outfit. Jason always smells slightly of gun powder and cigarettes. Tim’s posture is so bad Cass can tell it’s him from a mile away. Damian has green eyes, Steph has blonde hair, Babs has red hair. Cass wishes all the boys had different colored hair, as it would simply make her life a lot easier.

The face blindness really doesn’t impare her abilities during patrol cause all of the Gotham rogues and heroes wear such dramatic outfits Cass doesn’t need to see their face to know who they are.

Unfortunately problems often arise when she’s in civilian form,

Cass: *at starbucks*

Dick: oh my god Cass! is that you?

Cass: *confused but polite* hello.

Dick: hey, how’s your day been?

Cass: *is unsure why this random guy is talking to her but once again polite* good.

Dick: *confused on why his sister is acting weird*...that’s good.

Cass: *grabbing her order and attempting to leave.*

Dick: Wait don’t you want a ride back to the manor?

Cass: No. *rushing away and is very uncomfortable.*

Cass: *halfway down the street, realizing she’s heard that voice before, immediately pulling out her phone*

Dick: Hello?

Cass: Starbucks?

Dick: Yea..

——

Jason: *recently dyed his white streak black cause he was feeling insecure about it*

Cass: *stands next to no streak Jason sitting at the batcomputer* Bruce?

Jason: I beg your finest pardon

Cass: Oh, Hi Jason.

Jason: *on his way to bleach his streak back cause never again.*

——

Bruce: *brings Clark to the manor, they’re both in civilian clothing looking identical.*

Cass: No metas, too confusing.

Cass: *staring directly at Bruce thinking it’s Clark* I. Don’t. Like. You.

Bruce: *has not been this heartbroken since Khoa Khan.* Clark, I think it’s best for you to leave

——

Cass: *staring at the blonde person in the kitchen thinking it’s Steph* oh wow your hair..

Bernard: *also face blind.* Tim…You sound different.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So Demon twins but Danny was never raised in the League. He was brok sickly so Ra’s chucked him in the Lazarus pit and he never came out.

He emerged on the other side of the world in a pool of ectoplasm and got adopted by the Fentons.

14, he died.

15, he had a clone, Danielle, and she went to travel the world, starting in Venice

He knows he was adopted, Vlad spilled the beans during a fight, and when he was 16, he decided to tell his parents he was Phantom. (for the first time in my prompts) It went well.

When he was 17 and about to graduate high school, he decided to do a DNA test and find out who his bio parents are.

Bruce Wayne and an Unknown

Sends a letter to Bruce and doesn’t really expect a response.

He gets one.

Bruce Wayne knocks on his door 5 days after he sent the letter and offers to let Danny stay in Gotham with him while he takes a gap year. Danny agrees.

He meets Damian (doesn’t really matter is Damian knew of Danny existence or not) and everyone else and has a great time.

Eventually, Danny brings up things that alludes to his vigilante past

“Ya know, back when I was dead-”

“Metaphorical, right?”

“… sure. Anyway!-”

-

“Killed 17 people?! Tsk tsk, my rouges would never! Not even the clown! So, do you want Thai or Indian takeout?”

“… what was that?”

“Thai or Indian?”

“What- no, that not what I- *sigh* Thai, please.”

Eventually, he brings up his Dani.

“Oh yeah, my clone loves to travel!”

“Your what?”

“My clone! She’s more like a sister though.”

“Okay… where is she??”

“Shes traveling. Last I heard she was running with a group called the League of Assassins. Or was it assailants?”

“👁️👄👁️”

“Do you want to meet her..?”

“YES.”

-

So Dani joined the LOA. Not the worst thing she could’ve done.

Talia took one look at this girl she found in Venice that looked exactly like her beloved and thought ‘why not?’ And offered her a place to stay.

Dani took one look at this women she met in Venice that offered her a place to stay and though ‘bet’ and accepted.

So she’s been running with assassins. It’s not that bad and she learned how to fight. Talia mothers her and protects her from Ra’s good mom Talia, she will not raise Danielle like she raised Damian Eventually Dani gets a message from Danny saying that his biological family wants to meet her.

She goes with Talia’s okay and heads to Gotham.

Unlike her template, she knows that the Waynes are the Bats and loves teasing them about it.

“You’re billionaires, right? Wow, I really hope you don’t have a secret lair under this mansion!”

“… right, right. That would be weird.”

Damian doesn’t know what to make of Danielle. On one hand, he’s always wanted a sister, and she’s biologically related to him. On the other hand, she willingly works with the people that took away Damian’s childhood.

Danielle doesn’t have the blind devotion to the LOA that he had, and he thinks that she’s been manipulated by Ra’s and spends his time trying to convince her to stay in Gotham with them.

So now Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul get into a custody battle. (Talia wants also Danny and Bruce wants Dani)

Wind of it reaches the press and now the whole world is invested.

[jo-com]

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡☕ ➛ So this is love?

Max Verstappen x Fem!Sainz reader

Summary: The man who always put racing above anything else; not even caring or investing about others because he thinks it’s a waste of time—What did you do to him to make him change his mind?

Genre: Cold!Max x Persistent!reader

Note: Grammatical errors and this is not proofread!! Enjoy thoo

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚💕 ─ ───────

Max stared blankly at his mates as he tuned out the noises that they spoke. His eyes narrowed and brows knitted in a frown— obviously not invested in their conversation.

“Yeah, she’ll be coming here, so be nice guys” Carlos spoke,his tone laced with a warning, glaring back at other drivers who he thinks will scare you off.

And of course he was staring directly at max.

Max cocked a brow,“What?”,he was clearly not listening to them, so why the hell are they looking at him?

The other driver rolled his eyes, “i said don’t be batshit crazy and be nice to my sister”.

“Crazy?” Max scoffed, “i don't even give a damn about her, so why do i have to be nice?.”

The room then fell quiet at his words; no one even muttered a single sound as the heavy atmosphere intoxicated them—awkwardness spreading across the drivers as they stare back and forth at each other.

For a whole five minutes, none of them had the courage to speak up and end the insufferable silence.

Not until Charles let out a scrappy cough, making the others sigh in relief from his boldness.

“Carlos didn’t mean it like that, he meant that you should just be a little nice, his sister's pretty sensitive, you see” Charles exclaimed, his voice shaking from the previous tension.

Max tutted in response, mumbling a low ‘whatever’ before standing up and leaving the Ferrari garage.

…

It was finally the day of your arrival, everybody were excited to meet the you… well almost everybody.

Max just slumped in the corner, his body leaning against the wall with his usual scowling face— avoiding others that tries to converse with him.

He was minding his own business and letting his mind wander off.

What’s so special about her that people kept fussing over her.

His train of thought quickly got interrupted as people swarmed the front door, their voices echoing and colliding with one another making a god awful sound.

He rolled his eyes with judgement as he stared abruptly at the doorframe— not even bothering to check or give the slightest interest on you.

But as you walked closer to his eye range, his breath seemed to hitch and his jaw slowly hung opened.

He doesn’t know how or why, but as soon as his eyes met yours it felt like his world suddenly turned in slowmo and all the others that surrounded you, now disappeared— it was like there were only the two of you.

Max never felt something like this before, it’s a weird and uncomfortable feeling. How the hell do you make it stop?

His once cold and composed look now turned into a love sick fool expression.

“Hey man you okay?” Logan asked, his tone dripped with pure concern over his fellow driver.

Max suddenly jumped from Logan’s presence. He never even saw that he came and leaned besides him. It was so unusual for him to be that unattentive.

Max lets out an awkward cough, “yeah, i am good, just looking like everyone else.”

“Looking? Dude you look like you want to get down on your knees for her” the other joked, easing up to max.

But to him it wasn’t a joke, he was conflicted on why he looked like that and was it obvious to everyone?. What the actual fuck is happening to him.

He then raised his hand and gently lay it to his forehead to check whether or not he has a fever. Damn no fever.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Logan responded, his eyes curled into a soft concern gaze.

Max didn’t answer and flickered his eyes back to yours. His face suddenly heats up as you stare back and smile at him. Your smile that was radiant like the sun and eyes soft like sky.

After that short and subtle interaction, he can’t seem to keep his focus and just let his thoughts wander off that lead to that moment.

…

“You’re max right?” You greeted, tugging the excess hair to your side and smiling softly at him. Having him a clear view of your angelic appearance.

Max could feel his whole face being flushed, god he wishes you don’t notice, “uhm yeah” he spoke, his tone that was always high and mighty now turned into a low and shy ones.

You hummed in response and puckered your lips with a pop, “well I’ve been seeing you all day and you’re always avoiding me, is there something wrong?”

Max’s eyes widened, “no..i-uhm there’s-“ he stuttered; trying to find the right words but nothing came out right.

You examined his actions and then let out a few giggles at his antics. You didn’t understand why they call him mean, to you he was just adorable.

…

After that day, the two of you often hang out with each other and would hear whispers and murmurs about you guys, but always brushed it off and ignore people.

“Here try this max” you beamed, handing him the mango that you were holding— smiling from ear to ear as you share your favorite fruit to someone speacial. You loved mango, i mean how could you not? It’s tasty and delicious.

He gave you a look of uncertainty, he never liked mango, it’s weird looking and nothing will ever change his mind about it, even you.

But maybe one bite won’t hurt.

“Haha sure” he replied, taking the fruit from your hand and gently taking a bite out of it. He then gulped it down his throat and stared back at you— your eyes sparkled with joy and excitement, as you await for his response.

“It’s alright” he answered, giving you a thumbs up to which you retorted with a happy clap.

“Thank god you like it, I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d like one of my favorite fruits”

Hmm maybe mangoes aren’t that bad.

…

It didn’t take long before max realized how inlove he was with you and as soon as he did, he asked to court you.

Of course you agreed to it, you as well fell for him but you also wanted to get the approval of both your parents and brother.

That’s why Max took it upon himself to make your parents like him, though he knew that the real obstacle was Carlos.

“So, you’re telling me that you want to date my sister?” Carlos asked, his voice dripped with sarcasm and anger.

Max smiled nonchalantly, “yes”

“You want to date her with that attitude?” Carlos spat, his teeth gritted with each word.

“Yes” he answered again bluntly.

He was getting on Carlos nerves and you could tell.

“Haha uhm Max can you come here for a sec?” You laughed dryly, grabbing Max’s sleeves and dragging him to the side.

“What did we talk about? I told you to be nice” you scolded, rubbing the bridge of your nose to ease your stress.

“I was being nice” max grumbled, his brows knitted in a frown out of habit.

Unbeknownst to them, Carlos was in the sidelines listening, laughing silently at his fellow driver, ‘hehe he’s done for, he never admits his mistake and apologize’ he thought.

“Sorry, I’ll try okay?” Max mumbled, making you smile and kiss his cheeks in response.

Carlo’s jaw dropped, What the fuck, why was THE max verstappen apologizing, is this real??

The two of them came back hand in hand and faced Carlos once again.

“I am sorry for being rude, and yes i am dating her so please approve”.

Carlos was still in shock, never in his life had he seen Max act like a puppy and apologize to anyone.

“No uhm it’s okay we’re good” he replied, his voice shaky from disbelief.

So that’s what max is like when inlove. Damn he’s like a lost puppy.

…

Sorry for not uploading too much🥹🥹 I’ve been busy but i hope you enjoyed this!!💋

[targaryenluvs]

— OPPOSITES ATTRACT

pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader (romantic) percy jackson x reader (platonic)

summary: the one where percy jackson has to wrap his head around the fact that the nicest person he’s met at camp, is dating clarisse.

warnings: kinda crack ficy in my opinion, fluff, smooches, capture the flag, reader is percy’s saving grace, percy sees the reader as a sister

a/n: i just got inspired okay? ✊🏽

percy’s feet were booming, heard from afar as he ran to the creek’s shore. the ares trio hot on his tail as they chased him down. he knew he couldn’t run forever, he’d have to fight, but how on earth was he going to win against three trained teens?

as if clarisse wasn’t frightening enough already, her scream sent literal chills down percy’s back, guess she really likes spears? he thought to himself.

the sounds of cheers and celebration drew the pairs attention as luke planted the opposing teams flag into the floor. they’d lost. percy felt clarisse’s grip falter, only slightly, but not when she saw the flag, clarisse’s eyes were currently trained on something behind him. more bullies? “there you are! i was waiting for you, wanted to show you my new and improved skills.”

clarisse let go of him and he couldn’t believe it, the rage in her eyes seemed to dissipate the second you came around. you, the sweetest person he’d met here, were friends with that thing?

that thing was capable of feelings?

his jaw dropped at the sight of clarisse’s hands on your cheeks, listening to you ramble on about who you’d fought and defeated in the woods, the pretty butterfly you’d seen. percy’s eyes were so close to popping out of his skull as clarisse kissed you, deeply. then he wanted to vomit as hands traveled and tongues met.

at dinner that night you sat by luke and chris, happily eating away as your hand rested on a book infront of you. “hey perce! come sit down.” you patted the space next to you as he accepted. “what’re you reading?” percy stared at the cover you’d flipped over to display to him, well he wasn’t expecting that. “where’d you get it from?” you pointed towards your girlfriend proudly, “she said she knew i’d like it, isn’t that sweet?”

percy’s weird version of a smile caused you to frown, “your smile is scaring me.” he immediately dropped it as you laughed, causing him to nudge you. “don’t be rude, i’m just a baby.” percy hadn’t felt so comfortable with someone since his mother. you pinched his cheeks, “naw, yes you are.” he swatted your hands away as you giggled, percy stared at you, studying you.

shining eyes, a beaming smile and an enchanting personality, truly a daughter of aphrodite, yet you dated clarisse. it didn’t make sense in his head, but from what little scenes he’d seen between the two of you, if you were happy than he was too, “what do you see in clarisse? why are you with someone so—” you turned to look his way, percy was worried you’d be offended.

but of course you weren’t, “because i like her percy, and she likes me. she’s absolutely gorgeous, if she wasn’t already a daughter of ares or i didn’t know? for sure aphrodite. and, people are always misunderstood, just because someone seems like a bad person, doesn’t mean they are. when clarisse and i are together, i see the best parts of her, always. i love her regardless, but there’s obviously things that you don’t tell everybody you just meet, or if you aren’t super comfortable with a person then you won’t show all the parts of yourself. i think, when you love someone you accept all parts of them, the good, the bad, the worst. you love someone despite their flaws. clarisse is good to me, and i like her, that’s all that matters. you’ll understand when you find someone yourself perce.”

he sat still, raking over your words in his head, “if one person can feel that way about someone else, they’d explode.” you laughed at his words, he was still young of course, he’d understand soon, you had a feeling. “i’d happily explode because of how much i love her.” you glanced back at her, only she wasn’t there.

“well i don’t want you to explode, i do want to spend my night with you.” clarisse stood behind you with her arms crossed, you could see percy tense up at her presence. with your hand on his, and your eyes reassuring him, he smiled, “i’m happy for you, but if she try’s anything i’m more than happy to beat her ass for you even if i’m broken in half.”

clarisse couldn’t hear his whispers, thank god. your smile was small, placing a hand on his shoulder, you kissed percy’s forehead, “my protector, now no one can try anything with me huh? thank you perce, if you need anything here at camp, or if you just want to talk and eat those blue foods of yours—” his arms wrapped around your neck tightly as you recovered from the force.

“thank you.”

“any day perce, any time.”

and percy sat back, watching the two of you walk away hand in hand. a clear thought rung through his head.

opposites attract.

[mywritersmind]

LOOKING GOOD - LN4

summary : fewtrell!reader <3 her brother leaves her alone with lando for less than five minutes and she manages to make her childhood friend blush.

listen up : no warnings!! a small blurb to get me back into writing bc i stopped for a day and am now lost.

word count : 634

⋆｡‧˚⋆

My brother doesn’t usually annoy me this much, but today he’s really making me angry. He said we would have a brother-sister day (aka we go out for lunch and shit talk while he pays) but I’m standing in a studio instead.

He’s talking to Lando who’s having photos done for a new LN4 drop or something. I check my phone again but am soon looking up again when I realize Lando and Max are now standing in front of me

“I’m gonna go change!” he throws me a hoodie, “I told you i’d get you free shit!” Max walks away as I eye the hoodie.

It’s the same dark green that Lando has on, but mine has a 4 on the chest and various little patches on the arms. I raise a brow at him but he talks first.

“Thought you’d like that one. You look good wearing my number.” I suck in a breath at his flirtatious tone. He’s got a mischievous smirk painted on his face as I rest my hands on the jacket.

“Did you do this to make up for not having the frat boy life you were destined for?” His smile doesn’t falter, just sits down next to me and rests his arm around the back of my chair.

“Sorry I've stolen Max away, today.” I can feel his fingers tap against the chair.

I sigh and shrug, “I get it. Best friend over his loving, stunning, iconic, caring, younger sister.”

Lando laughs a bit, turning his head away. When he does, it makes me realize I haven’t heard him laugh in a while. In fact, I haven’t seen him for months.

His tan is the same which is ridiculous and I fight the urge to ask him if he spray tans. But as my eyes catch on his hair, I swallow.

His curls are defined and cut into a mullet. I’ve always thought I hated them until I saw Lando’s haircut. He’s got his usual bracelets on and when I’m looking at them I get distracted by his hands.

Sometimes it’s really hard to ignore the fact that this man is the same absolute nerd I grew up with. He and my brother used to terrorize me and now Lando’s words are more teasing if anything.

I know he likes the way we talk because everytime I see him, he willingly starts a conversation with me even though I take every chance to bully him.

He blinks and my gaze is pulled back to my lashes, then his eyes. Fuck, those eyes. They’ve always been my favorite part of Lando’s appearance. Is that weird?

You could argue that they’re brown in the dark, but as soon as the sun hits you realize that they’re not specifically one thing.

Right now they look green as ever, the color in his hoodie bringing it out. I don’t realize he’s looking at me until he blinks again.

“Look,” Lando sighs, “If you’re gonna make a jab at how I have my name embroidered on my hoodie-” I let out a small scoff and he stops. “What?”

“I was gonna say you look really good.” I say simply as his jaw basically drops.

I think I've finally found a way to silence Lando Norris, and get his cheeks pink.

Max walks back in, his new Lando swag on display as I stand.

“I’m gonna wait in the car.” I smile at him and as I walk past my brother, I look back to Lando. “Thanks for the hoodie, Norris.”

He’s watching me walk away, a confused look still on his face. I bring my hand up and wiggle my fingers at him. I hear my brother start to yap loudly as the corner of Lando’s mouth quirks.

[rafey-baby]

rafe has always been close with his sister…  

18+ mdni!

c/w: icky themes, incest, dubcon, oral (m receiving), rafe being a perv about his (adopted) sister & her being inexperienced   

wc: 1.7k

if this is something you don’t like pls scroll, read something else & leave me alone xx   

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Her big brother has always been rather overbearing, which is something she’s tried to shrug off as him merely being protective, but as far as her understanding of siblings goes— they aren’t supposed to act the way Rafe does.  

Ever since they were little, Rafe has been weird about everyone in their strange family, but sometimes it makes her feel gross when he barges into her room while she’s changing— not even bothering to cover his eyes as he sits down on her mattress and starts ranting about something completely irrelevant.

It makes her feel disgusting when she notices the subtle smirk tugging at his mouth as his gaze narrows down onto whatever bare sliver of skin she’s hurriedly trying to hide from his borderline hungry eyes.   

And she doesn’t particularly enjoy when he gets wasted or high off of whatever he’s snorted at some stupid party and insists that he just has to sleep next to her because he’s not feeling good. And despite her drowsy complaints, he’s always snuggling too close for comfort with his hands all over her; pulling her flush against him and letting the cushion of his lips graze the skin of her neck.

He keeps telling her that it’s nothing out of the ordinary when he gives her details about the girls he’s slept with and what his favorite positions are, even if she’s told him multiple times that she doesn’t want to know. And whenever they’re home alone, he even goes as far as bringing girls to his room— making sure their loud moans echo right into her bedroom when he knows she’s trying to study.   

And whenever he’s tagging along during her little shopping trips (he doesn’t let her go alone because ‘what if something happens?’), he always demands on joining her in the fitting rooms— even squeezing himself into the crammed space when she’s trying on lingerie, claiming that she absolutely needs his opinion.   

“Rafe, that’s weird,” she tries to get him to wait outside but of course he merely rolls his eyes.  

“S’not weird, know how indecisive you can be, jus’ wanna help,” he says, seemingly genuine while he’s already fiddling with the clip of her bra.   

And she feels her cheeks burning when the cashier mentions how sweet it is that her boyfriend is paying for her clothes— to which Rafe merely chuckles while she can’t find the words to correct the poor woman because she’d probably faint if she learned the truth about their relationship.

More often than not, he tends to be borderline territorial. One time, she’s simply talking to a guy at some party, when all of a sudden, she feels an all too familiar presence behind her.

“Who’s this, hm?” he slurs, slinging a heavy arm over her shoulder.   

“Oh, it’s…um, no one,” she peeps out because she knows how he is. However, her attempts at calming him down prove to be fruitless because he’s already approaching the guy with a scoff.   

“You, uh, you do know that this is m’sister, right? Mine. So, why don’t you, uh, go ‘n try to impress some other bitch, yeah?” he offers him a sickly-sweet smile, voice harsh before telling her they’re leaving— strong hands on her waist already dragging her towards his truck.

“I was having fun,” she complains when he’s putting the seatbelt on her— his breath smelling of beer when he drawls out a reply. “You can have all the fun you want with me when we get home, yeah?”   

“But I wanted to spend time with my friends,” she pouts.   

“That’s just too bad then, isn’t it?” he murmurs while starting the engine— resting a warm palm on her thigh soon after, ignoring her efforts of shrugging it off.  

- - - - - - - - - - -

When he learns that she hasn’t had her first kiss yet (because why would anyone even think about touching her when they know Rafe is a complete psycho), he mocks her to the point of her eyes growing glossy as she tries to blink away the soggy droplets.

“S’okay, you wanna get it over with, hm? I’ll help you,” he so kindly offers with faux concern glimmering in the moonstones of his eyes.   

“Rafe, that’s gross,” she frowns, to which he merely furrows his brows before scoffing— as if she’s the one being weird.   

“So, uh, so you tellin’ me you want some…some stranger at a party who only wants to get in your pants to do it instead?” he narrows his eyes as if that’s the only alternative.  

“N— no,” her answer is hesitant.  

“Listen, m’just…m’just, tryna be a good brother ‘n help my little sister out, but if you don’t want m’help then don’t come cryin’ to me when you embarrass yourself cause you don’t even know how to kiss,” he lifts his hands up in surrender before shrugging, suggesting that he’d merely be doing her a favor.   

And before her brain has the time to process what’s happening, he’s already dragging her into his lap. And it feels wrong when their mouths are suddenly slotting together— when he’s letting out a shallow groan and slipping his tongue past her teeth without so much as a warning.

“Rafe! You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that,” she squeaks out, pulling away with her face all crumpled up, feeling disconcerted.   

“Shut up, you’re gonna wake up everyone, thought you wanted to learn?” he mutters out before he’s smearing his mouth on hers once more— this time with a tight grip on her jaw that forces her to stay put as the the kiss turns into something sloppy; wet.

And afterwards, he makes her promise that she won’t tell anyone because ‘you don’t want dad to get mad at you, do you?’ and even if she feels guilt eat away at her, she keeps it to herself because the last thing she wants is to upset anyone. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Rafe guess what? I have a date tomorrow,” she gives him a giddy smile while stepping into his room a few weeks later.  

“With who?” he eyes her while slouching on his bed, seemingly in the midst of texting someone.

“This guy I met on the beach today,” she sits down on the edge of the mattress when he places his phone on his nightstand.

“Yeah? What’s his name?” he asks, shifting closer.  

“Um, Ethan.” 

“Last name?”  

“I— I don’t know, didn’t ask…why does it matter? Was just wondering if you could drive me there?” she says, surprised by his sudden interest. 

“Where?” his tone sounds almost exasperated now, as if she’s done something bad.

“Um, we’re just gonna hang out at his house,” she chews on her bottom lip, suddenly nervous.

“You havin’ a date at his house? You finally gonna lose that virginity, huh?” he asks as patronizing laughter bubbles from his chest.

“What? No! S’not like that,” she mumbles, her skin already boiling. 

“No? You do know when guys say they wanna hang out, it means they wanna fuck, right? You’re not that stupid, are you?” his gaze is borderline condescending when he raises his brows.

“Well, he’s not like that, he seems nice,” she tries to defend herself, feeling small all of a sudden.

“Sweetheart, every guy’s like that, especially the ones that seem nice, you’re so fuckin’ naive,” he scoffs while running a hand through his hair.

“You know what? Forget about it, I’ll just walk there,” she huffs out, standing up to leave, however, she doesn’t get far before he’s grabbing at her arm.

“Listen, m’just tryna look out for you, okay? Don’t feel like dealin’ with your shit ‘bout how he broke your heart. I mean, if you’re not gonna let him hit, he’s gonna be expectin’ somethin’ else, you know that, right?”

She swallows.

“I— are you sure? But…but I don’t even know how to—” 

“Poor baby, what would you do without your big brother, hm? Don’t worry, I’ll teach you, yeah?” he coos before pinky promising he’ll be gentle.

And that’s how she ends up on her knees in front of him. 

“Ray, this doesn’t feel…right,” she mumbles out, eyes focused on the ruddy tip he’s thumbing over while he stares at her.

“Shh, can be our little secret, yeah? Jus’ wanna make sure my little sister doesn’t embarrass herself,” he lets out a grunt when she blinks up at him with uncertain eyes.

“Open your mouth, tongue out,” he instructs while moving closer to her tentative form, biting his lip when she gingerly does what he tells her to. Then, he’s thudding the drippy head on the flat of her tongue— one, two, three times, which makes her let out a noise; something that only seems to spur him on.

He tastes salty and she doesn’t necessarily mind it, which makes her feel entirely too gross about the situation altogether— the words ‘I don’t wanna do this anymore’ turning into a tangled muddle when he’s already pushing past her lips, making her gag around the sudden intrusion.

“Shit, tha’s good, jus’ take it, yeah?” he rumbles out; a big hand holding the back of her head as he stuffs himself deeper down her throat— cock twitching in response to her whines and attempts at drawing away for air.

It overwhelms her to no end when he’s so rough, abrasive, but despite his broken promise, she’s unable to prevent her thighs from pressing together when throaty moans keep escaping him; his respiration turning labored by each lazy rut of his hips while her head begins to spin.

Only when his sticky cum gushes onto her tongue— the white substance dribbling past the seam of her lips and covering her chin in the process, does he grant her a moment to catch her breath.

“Guys like it when you swallow,” his voice is like gravel when he pushes at her jaw, heady gaze glued to the way her throat bobs when she does just that, the aftertaste of what they’ve done making her feel stained; dirty.

“You know, s’cute you thought I’d let some, some shithead fuck my sister,” he sounds almost humored as he pats at the flushed skin of her cheek— making her eyes turn watery when he swipes a thumb under her wobbly bottom lip to clean up the remaining mess.

She feels something in her guts churn when he tucks it back into her mouth with a sick smile.

[ghostfacd]

I’M A JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS, BOY. | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. after gaining massive popularity, you star another show where you have to kiss your co star, which tom isn’t exactly happy about

AUTHOR NOTE. Two posts in one day? Who am I??anyway! This was self indulging because I love Steven Conklin and nobody writes for him 😔 As always, reblogs and comments make me more motivated to continue this series :)

installment of this au | the reader plays fictional character “ella fisher” in tsitp!

Tom wasn’t a jealous guy, at least, he didn’t think so. He was very secure in your relationship, always making sure he didn’t let his emotions get the best of him.

Like when you told him you had gotten the role of Conrad and Jeremiah Fisher’s sister in The Summer I Turned Pretty, and how you were Steven Conklin’s love interest, he congratulated you with a big hug.

He knew who was playing Steven—Sean Kaufman. There was no doubt that Steven was a very charming guy.

“You’re here!” You say giddily, engulfing your boyfriend in a hug when he approached you. “Daisy was just patching up the last of my concealer. Did you get any food?”

Daisy was your makeup artist—and one of the sweetest girls you’ve ever met in your life. She knew the cast pretty well, so when you first got here, she helped break the ice between you and them.

“You know I did,” Tom says, placing the paper bag down on your table. He opened it up, retrieving an iced matcha latte and a poke bowl. You squealed in delight, excited to eat after filming for so long.

“So how was your day?” You say, cheekily grinning at him as you ate your bowl.

“Tiring? I did a photo shoot, it was fun. Then I went home and took a nap, and then I drove to buy you food.”

“Well thank you babe,” you say. “Today was such an exhausting day, so much retakes cause of all the sand. But God do I love this show to death. It’s so much all at once but in a good way, you know?”

“Well I’m just excited to see my girl on the big screen,” Tom smiles, leaning in to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“YN! Time to film again!” The voice of your director calls out, making you shove your bowl into Tom’s hands and rushing over to the cameramen.

Tom carefully places your bowl down, walking over quietly behind the cameras to watch your scene up close.

He watches as you talk to Lola, who plays Belly, about your plans after high school, and how you wanted to apply for Princeton just like Steven. She rolls her eyes, saying how she doesn’t get how you and Steven get along so well.

Later in the scene, you and Sean sit close together in front of a campfire. Tom remembers vividly of you telling him there was a scene between your character and Steven where the two of you would get extremely close. Tom feels his breath hitch when he sees Sean make you laugh. He knows that it’s just acting—that your character and Sean’s character are love interests in the show, and that it means nothing in real life.

But he just feels so weird. His stomach is in knots, and it feels like his mouth is dry.

“You know,” Sean begins, leaning in close to your face. “I know Belly doesn’t want me liking any of her friends, and your brothers would totally kill me if they knew; but you’re making it so hard.”

“Really Steven?” You fake giggle, leaning closer to his touch. “Well they don’t have to know.”

Sean laughs at your comment, his head falling against your shoulder, something that Tom had always done with you.

And then he sees the director cue the cameramen to zoom in, and then there it is. — You and Sean kiss, and Tom feels his feet move away from the scene without even realizing.

“And… cut!” The director says, clapping. “Good job Sean and Y/N! You really captured the tension between Steven and Ella. That’s a wrap!”

You hug Sean afterwards, the two of you laughing about how stupid the kiss must’ve looked but you knew the viewers would eat it up once the episodes aired.

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours?” Gavin asks, suddenly showing up behind you and Sean.

“Gavin!” You say, putting your hand to your chest. “Way to scare a girl to death!”

Gavin laughs, poking at your sides teasingly. “Just kidding, I know where he is. Stormed off where Lola and Christopher are standing.”

“Storm off?” You say, confused.

“Seems like lover boy wasn’t too keen on you kissing our Sean over here.”

You quickly make your way towards where Lola and Christopher were standing, and just like Gavin had said, Tom was standing behind them. He didn’t look too happy.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, pulling the boy away for some privacy.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh c’mon,” you scoff. “It can’t be nothing. Gavin said you stormed off earlier.”

Tom sighs, clearly wanting to drop the topic. But one look into your genuine concerned eyes makes him crack.

“I was jealous.” He admits, biting his lip back in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

You bite back a smile, arms linking with his. “Awe babe, it’s okay. Just acting. Just like how you kissed Rachel in the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah,” Tom sighs, bringing your body close to his. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have felt that way.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling brightly. “Feeling jealous is bound to happen with our job, as long as we communicate about it, everything will be fine.” You hug his side, snuggling your face into his coat. “Plus, you know Sean has a girlfriend, right?”

“What?” Tom seems baffled, but he quickly covers it up. “No, yeah, I knew that.”

“Uh huh,” you tease, “don’t worry Tom, I love you the most.”

He leans down, making eye contact with you. “Well I sure hope so, because I love you the most as well.”

And everything was perfect until Gavin lets out a fake barf, telling the two of you to “get a room”.

“Oh get out of here Gav!” You say, shooing him away.

“Yeah Gavin, let the couple have their moment!”

That makes everyone laugh, and you swore you never felt happier than you did right now.

[coco-loco-nut]

007

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: meeting your soulmate in the paddock isn’t unusual for F1 drivers, but oscar’s certainly leans on the unusual side

a/n: sorry if it’s a bit of the mess! i’ve been trying to write my way out of writers block

masterlist part two requests open

_____________

You are crazy, you have to be. At least, that’s what Oscar thought when he watched the mark on his arm change for the third time that day. You put yourself in more danger than he does, and that says a lot. It wasn’t always that way, not until five years ago when it became more and more frequent. The shared talent he gets from you is no help. Analytical and multilingual, you could be anyone. Based on how often you are in danger for long stretches, he is a little sure that you are a mobster. Being able to speak Russian and Italian fluently doesn’t help with the whole mobster thing.

You didn’t know what to think of your soulmate. At first you assumed he was a criminal, the meter on your arm only shifting to danger for a relatively short period of time for a few weeks. However, it has become regular, throwing you off. Maybe a weekend adrenaline junkie? No, probably organized crime. Besides, you are skilled at driving fast, and what adrenaline junkie has a talent for fast driving.

“We have intel that there will be a deal made at the Belgian Grand Prix. Both parties are guests of Sauber as to not draw suspicion. Everything you will need is in this file, a car will pick you up tonight, good luck,” you anxiously sit through your briefing.

You have been tracking a crime ring for the past year and a half, putting yourself in all kinds of compromising positions just to get information. Formula One though, that’s new to you. You have seen some things from former partners who followed it, but you weren’t interested.

It isn’t uncommon for crime groups to use large events for “networking.” It is under the guise of their shell companies. You studied your character ruthlessly, knowing your cover inside and out.

The race approached much quicker than you’d like. The situation isn’t helped by a weird feeling in your stomach. Not nerves, but something else. You shake it off, the mission is what is important. The paddock awaits, and you have a limited striking time.

Oscar was on edge. Something felt off, even though he went through his race routine like always. He did have a questionable pastry, but there wasn’t any mold, so it was okay. He slides his sleeve up, looking at the meter on his arm. Lando doesn’t miss how his teammate’s face paled.

“You okay?” Lando asks, trying to catch a glimpse of the meter on Oscar’s arm.

“Yeah, just realized I forgot to call my sister,” Oscar lies. He’s a little scared for the day he meets you. What kind of mobster commits crime on a Sunday? Maybe you got taken by an enemy, got caught sneaking around. Logan always told him that he was crazy for assuming his soulmate is a criminal, but all signs point to it. Some fresh air is what he needs.

“Why don’t we take a walk?” your target says as you flash a charming smile, anything to get information. It helps that the conversation is in Russian, adding to confidentiality of everything.

You feel a deep pull, like a yearning, as you agree to the walk. You brush it off, the mission is top priority.

“Can you provide some more benefits of the… investment,” you are a little unsure of what to call it. You are keenly aware of the weapons strapped to the side of your target. You weren’t expecting to be meeting with an enforcer, making the job trickier.

“Perhaps. I will if you can answer this question,” you feel your anxiety spike as you keep a calm and cool demeanor. The pull increases and it takes every ounce of will to keep yourself focused. You got most of the information you need, but you need to fish for more. You don’t really notice the target turning you into a quieter part of the paddock.

Oscar lets his feet lead the way, a little out of it. He doesn’t really notice you ahead, tucked in a relatively secluded alley of the paddock. He’s always been able to sneak around, a blessing in times like this.

“Who invited you to the meeting,” he asks, and you internally breathe a sigh of relief. Your team scanned through the information to make sure there was nothing included to trip you up, and this is something that was deemed clear.

“Peter,” you say a little too confidently, and that’s when you notice him reach for the knife on his side. You also notice the civilian looking at his soulmate meter rather than where he is walking, and at that moment it spikes further into the danger. The brief distraction is enough to put you at a disadvantage. You shove the stranger behind you, getting him out of the way as you. Sparks fly as you touch him, but you don’t pay any mind to it. Eyes trained on the target, you do everything you can to avoid being stabbed as you pull out your own knife.

Oscar feels a twinge on his arm and slides up the sleeve, looking at his mark. He feels himself get yanked, and he turns his attention to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He takes a few steps back into safety and watches. Every alarm bell in his mind tells him to run away, but he can’t seem to walk away.

You kick the knife away, quickly working to disarm the target and press him against a wall, your own knife to his throat. You subtly activate your tracker, getting discreet backup.

“Tell me who runs the operation. Now.” you snarl in Russian, slightly putting pressure on his neck with the knife. The target spits beside you, you press further. “I recommend you don’t mess with me if you want to be alive.”

The information you want comes flowing out as you take a little pleasure at the fear in his eyes.

“There, happy? Let me go,” the target says and you smile wickedly. Dropping your act now would only hurt you, so you let him think you are part of a rival crime ring.

“Not quite,” you flip him around so he is facing the wall. You sheathe the knife, using your weight to brace him to the wall. “It’s a shame I couldn’t spill some blood, oh well,” you play your role, speaking in a bored yet maniacal tone. Your backup arrives and takes over for you, arresting the target.

As the adrenaline fades, you remember the guy lurking behind you. You feel the heat of anger flare up. Couldn’t he see you were dealing with something dangerous? Why wouldn’t he turn around and walk away.

Oscar can’t help but feel happy that he finally has your attention, and if the pull he feels and the danger levels that his arm displays is any indication, he just met his soulmate. Plus, you speak multiple languages, who else would he get that from that’s in the immediate vicinity. He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“Are you stupid! What are you doing walking in on that? And sticking around? That was a very dangerous situation, you know,” you fume, not looking at him, too busy firing off angry texts to your commander.

“I was right, my soulmate is a criminal,” Oscar says, a little shocked.

“That guy was your soulmate? Tough luck,” you can’t help but laugh a little. You look at him for the first time and feel your heart beat quicken as every instinct is drawn to him.

“No, you are,” Oscar says as your eyebrow quirks, as if you don’t believe him. And you don’t believe him, it isn’t in your nature.

“Well, I’m not a criminal. Sorry to break it to you. Besides, I know that my soulmate is a criminal, so unless you have a dark side, you aren’t him,” you brush it off, still ignoring the intense pull towards the brunette who is creeping closer to you.

“But-“

“Look, I gotta go,” you quickly take a once over of him, ready to look him up when you are back to safety. You disappear almost into thin air, leaving Oscar confused.

“Oscar? What are you doing here? Is that blood?” Logan stares at his friend.

“I think I just met my soulmate,” Oscar says, a little flabbergasted. Now he knows where his talent for being stealthy comes from. He wonders if you got his driving ability.

“Right. That doesn’t explain blood. You know what, you need to get ready for the drivers parade,” Logan shakes his head, helping his friend get back on track.

Oscar Piastri. That’s who Google tells you that you encountered. He’s handsome, you will admit that. A quick research tells you everything you need. Your soulmate, in fact, was not a criminal. A minor win in your mind.

After your paperwork and evidence submission, you know you can’t return to Sauber, so you choose to walk around instead. A change of clothes and hairstyles helps to hide your identity.

You easily slip into the McLaren motorhome, it is a little sad how easily you have gotten past Formula One’s security. You wait in Oscar’s drivers room for him, feeling uncomfortable and nervous. You don’t like the feeling.

Your job is too dangerous for a soulmate, you’ve seen how devastating it is for those whose soulmate never returns from a mission. You couldn’t do that to someone, so why do you find yourself needing to see Oscar again.

Oscar feels the now familiar tug as he gets out of his car, and he’s never been happier to get P4. He makes his way to his room as quickly as possible, rush in through his post-race procedures.

“You’re here. How are you here?” Oscar sees you leaning against the wall of his drivers room.

“It is embarrassing how easily I can get past the security here,” you have a hint of a smile on your face.

“So, if you aren’t a criminal, who are you?” Oscar swallows, a little nervous. His only knowledge of you is that you are highly dangerous and semifrequently in danger.

“I can’t tell you that. Brilliant race today, maybe I will actually watch one for once,” you walk towards him, and he feels his heart leap in his chest. You slip a card into his hand as you head to the door. “Oh, and thanks for the driving skills. It’s gotten me out of quite a few situations,” you smirk, disappearing once again. Oscar looks down at the card in his hand.

Y/n L/n. Special Services.

In neat penmanship you wrote down a series of numbers, and a note to burn the card after saving the number. Oscar races to the window that overlooks the only exit of the building, but you had already disappeared into the crowd.

[luludeluluramblings]

Ok I see that Conner is winning in the baby daddy polls, and im fine with that but to me the whole Roy situation would be so much funnier.

Roy: “sorry guys, just found out I was the one that got your sister pregnant 😬”

Dick & Jason: “whAT!?!?!”

Roy: “ok but in my defence, you told me she was weird, but she’s actually interesting and pretty sexy”

Dick: “can we please go back to the fact that you got her PREGNANT!?!?”

Roy: “you’re not allowed to kick me out cause I already told Lian she’s got a new mommy”

Jason: “well fuck… he’s got us there, Dick”

Dick: “WHY ARE WE MOVING ON SO QUICKLY FROM THE FACT HE GOT HER PREGNANT!?!?!?”

-🪼

Absolute power move, Roy just moved into the Manor. Like, Bruce and the family want to keep you. Okay, but he’s sleeping in your bed and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

He doesn’t say anything when anyone mentions it either. Just slides next to you and wraps an arm around you whenever he wants.

Dick is just questioning the how and why, but Roy just gaslights him. (Jason says nothing because he wants to remain willfully ignorant. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.)

Bonus: Reader only lets Roy get away with it because Lian is so excited about the baby. Always going on and on about how she’s going to be the most amazing big sister. (Pregnant!Reader pointedly looking at the rest of the Bats like, Y’all need to take some fucking notes.)

[corroded-hellfire]

I can't remember if you already answered or wrote this, but when was the first time Ryan and Luke called reader "mom"?

+ AYW request for ya--Eliza has started saying "mama," which prompts Ryan & Luke to discuss what they call Reader and whether or not they want to call her "mom."

+ When was the first time Reader referred to Luke & Ryan as her sons and when was the first time Luka & Ryan called Reader their mom?

+ What was the first time like when Ryan and Luke started calling Reader "mom"?

+ What was the first moment like when Ryan and Luke first called Reader "mom" or how did the Munson boys react when she called Ryan and Luke "my sons"?

I love how so many people wanted to see this 💜 This does get kind of cheesy and corny at the end (more so than usual), but I couldn't get the song out of my head while writing this, so it gets put in lol

Words: 4.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Say it again, say it again,” you gush, grinning at your daughter. 

“Mama!” she gleefully replies.

You clap your hands together and she copies your motions with the same enthusiasm. 

“Still making her say it, huh?”

You look up and see your husband leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and a playful smile on his lips.

“Like you didn’t have her saying ‘dada’ over and over when she first learned it last month.”

“Dada!” Eliza chimes in. 

“Hi, sweet pea.” Eddie steps into the room and leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

The little girl preens at all the attention she’s getting. Her short legs happily bounce as she wiggles from side to side on the couch. 

“Mama, Dada, Mama, Dada,” Eliza singsongs. 

“My little smarty pants!” You grin and gently tickle her soft belly. 

“You girls have fun,” Eddie says, mussing up Eliza’s curls before heading down the hall. 

“Well, do you want to?”

The shaky tone of Luke’s voice has Eddie coming to a halt a few feet away from the younger boy’s bedroom. 

“I mean…yeah. I think so,” Ryan replies. “Do you think she would mind?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says. “I don’t think so. But it feels weird to ask.”

“We’ve said it a lot trying to get Eliza to say it. It felt…”

“Good,” Luke finishes for his brother. 

Eddie’s brow furrows as he tries to piece together what’s troubling his boys. He doesn’t intend to eavesdrop on the two of them, but it’s become second nature to pay close attention whenever Luke is talking in case there is a scheme in the works that needs to be foiled. 

“She’s always felt more like our mom than Mom does,” Ryan says. 

The words are the key Eddie needed to unlock the stronghold. It makes complete sense now. The boys have been encouraging Eliza to say “Mama” for weeks now, so they’ve been referring to you in that way in front of their sister. Eddie feels like an idiot for never considering the internal storm that must’ve brewed in his sons. It’s no secret that they feel that you’re their mother more than Brittany ever was, but it’s become so normal for them to just refer to you by name. But Eddie can’t blame them for wanting to use the more official title they’d like to bestow on you. 

Slowly, Eddie walks past Luke’s door, acting as if he was always going this way straight from the other room, without making a pitstop to solve a puzzle. 

A long yawn further reminds you of how tired you are as you pull the blankets down on your bed. Curling up between the sheets is all you’ve been able to think about for the last hour. 

Your husband walks into the room, unhooking the black watch from around his wrist. He’s already comfy in his green plaid pajama pants and holey Dio t-shirt. 

“So, um, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Eddie says, placing his watch on his nightstand.

“What’s up? You climb into your shared bed and get comfortable on your side, facing him. 

“Well, I heard the boys talking this afternoon.” Eddie lifts the blankets on his side of the bed and slips in right next to you. He clicks off his bedside lamp before getting comfortable and laying nose to nose with you. “They were talking about you.”

“Me?” you ask, a frown pinching your face. “Did I do something?”

“Not at all, baby,” Eddie is quick to assure you. He reaches out and gently trails the rough pads of his fingers against your jaw. “They were talking about how Eliza finally said “mama” and how they refer to you that way for her.”

Dread pools in your stomach. 

“Oh no. Did that make them uncomfortable? I never asked them to, they just started saying it to help her learn. I feel so—”

“Baby, baby,” Eddie says, gently cupping the side of your face. “No, that’s not it at all. Actually, it’s kind of the opposite.”

“What do you mean?” Your face is still pinched up in concern, so Eddie gently rubs his thumb over your scrunched up forehead.

“They were saying that it felt good when they called you that. That you’ve always been their mom more than the witch ever was.”

Love’s warming touch cocoons you in an embrace as you process Luke and Ryan talking about calling you “mom.” It’s not something you ever would’ve forced on them. They call you by your name, it’s been that way since you’ve met. 

“They were wondering if you’d mind. And that it would feel weird to ask you about it,” Eddie adds. 

“The boys…” you trail off, needing to clear the emotion out of your throat before continuing. “The boys want to call me ‘mom’?”

“It looks that way.” Even in the dim lighting of the bedroom, you can see your husband’s grin. It’s contagious. 

“I feel kind of speechless,” you admit. “I never expected it. I mean, they already have a mom. I guess I just thought that was her and I’m…me.”

“Do you not want them to call you that, princess?” Eddie asks, his tone completely devoid of judgment. 

“No, no, it’s not that!” you’re quick to assure him. “I would be…so honored if they wanted to call me that. I just don’t want them to think I’m trying to overstep or take their mom’s place.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says with a laugh, “they wish you would take their mother’s place. Brittany may have birthed them, but you’ve given them more maternal love today alone than she’s done their whole lives.”

“They’re my boys. My sons,” you say, unable to keep a smile off your face at the words. 

“And you’re the mom they always wanted. The one they deserve.”

That causes the tears to finally spill over. You lean forward and bury your head in the juncture between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. He slips his lean arms around you and holds your body against his own. 

“I’d be so happy if they called me that,” you whisper against Eddie’s skin. “Ecstatic. But I don’t want them to feel pressured to do it.”

Eddie nods, one hand rubbing up and down your back.

“Why don’t we wait to see if they bring it up? Luke said it would be weird to come out and ask, but they might bring it up in another way. I just wanted to talk to you about it so if they do bring it up, you’re not caught off guard.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” You tilt your head up to gaze at your husband through the pale moonlight shining into your room. “You raised such wonderful boys.”

“You mean, ‘we’ raised,” Eddie counters. “You’ve been around for more than half of their lives now.”

“Sometimes it feels like yesterday that Luke was four years old and trying to convince me he needed candy to live.” You chuckle at the memory. “They’re becoming little men now, though.”

“That they are,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Guess I should teach them how to use basic tools and shit then, huh?”

“Well, who’s going to teach you?” you tease with a playful smirk. 

“Wiseass,” Eddie mumbles as he rolls you onto your back and hovers over you. 

“I learned from the best!”

It takes just over two weeks for the subject to come up. Eddie is at work, Eliza is spending a little time with her grandpa before he has to get ready for work, and you’re picking the boys up from basketball practice at Hawkins Middle School. 

You step into the gymnasium and are immediately choked by the stench of over a dozen boys going through puberty, and not all of them have discovered deodorant yet. 

Luke is still running around on the court, where a few kids linger, and Ryan is sitting on the bench, talking to a friend. It doesn’t surprise you. Ryan was initially excited to join the basketball team when Luke first brought it up. But now, a few months in, Luke is loving it and Ryan would rather be doing almost anything else. But he made a commitment to the team and Eddie told him it’s the right thing to do, to honor that commitment. So, he’s counting the days until the end of the season. 

You catch Ryan’s eye as you walk over to the sign out sheet, so he says goodbye to his friend and comes over to join you as you scribble down your name. One of the parent volunteers glances down and then smiles up at you.

“Munson?” The perky blonde woman asks in a chipper voice. “You must be Ryan and Luke’s mom.”

Just as she says this, Ryan reaches you and smiles up at you in greeting. 

It’s not unusual for people to assume you’re Luke and Ryan’s mom, so navigating answers like that have become second nature, and in most cases, it’s just easier to say yes. But with this, you see an opportunity to broach the topic with the boys.

“Yeah, I’m their mom.” You grin and wrap your arm around Ryan’s shoulders. See? I’m saying it. I would love for you two to call me that. 

You feel Ryan lean more into you and you breathe a sigh of relief that he’s acknowledging what you said as well. 

“Luke!” The volunteer calls out onto the court. “Your mom’s here!”

The eleven-year-old turns his head in your direction, sweaty curls whipping around, and gives a smile when he sees you. He waves to his friends and jogs over.

“How was practice, boys?” you ask as you head with them toward the gym doors. 

“Good!” Luke says, an extra spring in his step because he’s wearing the new sneakers he just had to have. “I’m getting better at shooting.”

“Atta boy.” You muss his hair, then have to wipe the sweat clinging to your hand on the side of your jeans. “What about you, Ry?”

“Was alright,” he replies with a shrug. “Got bored.”

“Where’s Liza?” Luke asks as the three of you get into the car.

“At Grandpa’s. We gotta go pick her up so he can get ready for work.”

Ryan buckles his seatbelt in the front passenger seat and turns on the radio. It’s quiet except for Stacy’s Mom coming from the speakers as you back out of your parking space and head off school property.

As you pull up to the first red light you’ve encountered, you turn down the music a few notches so the boys can hear you.

“Is that blonde lady from practice a team mom?” you ask.

“Who?” Luke asks.

“The lady who called out to you that your mom was there.” Why do you feel so nervous? This is Luke and Ryan. Your boys. 

“Oh! Yeah, that’s Gavin’s mom,” Luke says. “I think she does sign-ups for if other moms wanna bring snacks or something.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “Would you guys want me to do that sometime?” The light turns green, and you start down the main strip of Hawkins, towards Forest Hills. 

“You wanna be a team mom?” Ryan asks, looking over at you. 

“Hell yeah,” you say with a nod. “Show those other moms what it’s like to raise the two best boys in Hawkins. But I’ll only do it if you want me to. I don’t want to embarrass you guys or barge in on your activities or anything.”

“No, it’d be fun!” Luke interjects. “Whenever you bring snacks, everyone will go, ‘Thanks, Ryan and Luke’s Mom!’”

“Um, if you want them to call you that,” Ryan adds softly. 

This is it. The opening you’ve been waiting for. So, why do you feel so tongue-tied all of a sudden?

“Guys,” you speak slowly and deliberately, wanting them to know just how much you mean this, and that it’s not some throw away comment, “I love when people call me your mom. But…does it bother you?”

“No!” They’re both quick to answer simultaneously. 

“We like it, too,” Luke adds. 

You nod and adjust your hands on the steering wheel, psyching yourself up to get the next words out. 

“Listen.” You pause to clear your throat. “If you guys ever want to call me that yourselves, that is perfectly okay. I would never force you to call me that, of course. But if that’s something you’d like to do, that’s good with me.” It’s actually much more than good with you, but you don’t want to bear down too heavily on them. 

“Really?” Luke asks, voice almost as soft as you’ve ever heard it. “We can?”

“Absolutely,” you assure them. “You’re my sons. You can call me whatever feels right to you.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks.

“Yes.” You say the word with more confidence than you’ve ever said it before. The conviction of the answer rivals that of when you said “I do” to Eddie. 

“I’d like that,” Ryan admits, a sheepish smile growing on his face. 

“Me too,” Luke says.

“I think I just…” Ryan trails off, so you take a quick look at him before looking back to the road. “I think maybe another version of it. Because, like, when I think of calling someone ‘Mom,’ I can’t help but think of her.”

“Yeah, it’s like she ruined the name,” Luke agrees, nodding his head vigorously. 

“That makes sense,” you tell them. “There are definitely different variations of the word. Whatever feels best for you is fine with me.”

“What about, ‘Mother-I-Wish-I-Always-Had?” Luke suggests with a small playful giggle.

“That’s quite a mouthful!” You laugh as well, looking at your younger boy in the rearview mirror again. 

“I mean…” Once again, Ryan trails off, but this time he’s fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt.

“What is it, Ry?” you ask. “You know you can tell me anything. Or ask me anything.”

“Well, it felt nice when we were trying to help Eliza say your name.”

“Yeah!” Luke seconds. “Calling you ‘Mama.’”

“Is that too childish?” Ryan asks, a slight tremble in his voice. 

You turn the car into Forest Hills trailer park and wait until you come to a full and complete stop outside of Wayne’s place before speaking. Wanting to see both boys better, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn your body to look at them from your seat. 

“It is not childish,” you assure him—assure both of them. “I liked hearing you guys call me that, too. When you were helping your sister.” You smile and tilt your head to the side. “I actually feel like that name suits me better than ‘mom,’ anyway. It feels right to me. Like, I’ve been waiting my whole life to be called that.”

“You’re better than ‘mom’.” Ryan confirms with a nod. 

The urge to reach out for him is too strong, so you gently cup the side of Ryan’s face and gently rub your thumb back and forth over his cheek bone. Luke unbuckles his seatbelt and moves forward—closer to you, signaling he wants the same affection. You’re more than happy to give it to him. 

“You’re my sons,” you tell them. “You’re my everything. You, your sister, and your dad. You guys are my whole world. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. So, if you ever want to talk about anything—and I truly mean anything, no matter how weird or uncomfortable you think it might be—you can come to me. I’ll always be in your corner, no matter what. And nothing you tell me will ever change the way that I feel about you. There’s not a force in this world that can do that. You guys are stuck with my love forever.” 

Trying to drive home the point as much as you can, you look them straight in the eyes to make sure they know how serious you are. Ryan nods and gives you a small smile. Luke has unshed tears gathering at his lash line, and when he nods as well, they pool over and run down his cheeks. You’re quick to wipe them away for him. 

“Is there anything else? Anything else you guys want to talk about while we’re here?” you ask.

“No,” Ryan says softly but strongly. 

“Nothing for me,” Luke echoes. “Oh! Except that I love you.”

Now your eyes start to fill with moisture. 

“I love you, too.” Your words are quiet because you know if you speak any louder, you’ll start full out crying. “Both of you. So much.”

“Mamaaaaaaaa!”

Little hands pound against the driver’s side window, and you look over your shoulder to see Wayne holding Eliza just on the other side of the car door. She’s leaning in towards you, possibly trying to figure out how to get through the glass.

With a soft chuckle, you roll down the window and raise an eyebrow at her.

“Is there something I can help you with, madam?” you ask. 

“Mama!”

“That’s me,” you tell her. A pleasant buzz in your stomach reminds you of just how true that is. 

“We were waiting for ya inside, but she knew you were out here and was adamant about seeing her mama,” Wayne says, adjusting the one-year-old in his arms. 

“I am sorry I took so long, Your Majesty,” you tell the young toddler. “I was having a conversation with your brothers. Is that okay with you?”

“Mama!” is her only response. Then she pauses, thinks about it, and adds, “Dada!”

“He’s not here, squirt,” Ryan says. “But I think next we have to get you working on my name.”

“Mine’s easier,” Luke argues. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Ryan says with a shake of his head. “She’s learning names from oldest to youngest.”

“She skipped me then!” Wayne laments.

“Cause ‘Grandpa’ is harder to say!” Luke informs him. 

“Alright, Little Miss, let’s get you buckled in your seat so Grandpa isn’t late for work,” you say. 

When you pop open your door, Wayne shakes his head and gestures to the back seat.

“You stay there, I can get her in,” he insists.

Luke leans across Eliza’s car seat to open the back door for his grandfather. Wayne leans in and Luke makes sure all the straps and snaps are out of the way, so Eliza won’t be sitting on any. 

When Eliza realizes her brother is there in the backseat, she squeals in delight as Wayne sets her down. Between the older man and the youngest man, they’re able to secure Eliza snugly in her seat.

Wayne presses a kiss to Eliza’s head and reaches to rub over Luke’s curls before he stands up straight and closes the car door. 

“See you kids later,” he says.

You’re included in that, you know. To Wayne, Eddie is still a kid, which means you’ll always be one in his eyes too. But that is something else that you are perfectly okay with. 

“Everyone buckled in?” you ask. 

The boys answer the affirmative and you shift the car into drive. 

“Let’s go home.”

Eddie was running late at work, so he doesn’t walk through the front door until you’re setting dinner on the table. 

He lets out a long sigh and rubs a grease-stained hand over his face. 

“Hey, baby,” he greets you. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” 

You walk over and give him a proper kiss hello, which has his tired face pulling up into a small smile. 

“Dinner’s ready. Why don’t you get cleaned up and then all you have to do the rest of the day is relax.”

Eddie grunts in agreement, nodding his head before he shuffles down the hallway.

You chuckle to yourself as you finish getting dinner on the table.

“Okay, Liza Bean!”

She’s happily roving around the kitchen and living room in her pink walker, but she scoots over to you at the sound of her name.

“Time for dinner.”

You scoop her up and bump the walker with your leg to make it roll into a corner and out of the way. Eliza gets set in her princess high chair and her tiny hands bang on the tray as she awaits her food.

“Gotta wait for the men of the family, you.”

She coos when you press a kiss to the top of her soft, downy baby hair. Eliza continues her drum solo as you take a few steps into the hallway and call, “Boys! Dinner!”

The middle schoolers make it to the table before their father, so you start doling out the food onto everyone’s plates. Eddie saunters out, looking much better and more energized now that he’s no longer covered in dirt and grime. 

Eddie takes his seat at the head of the table and manages to give your ass a light swat as you walk past him. You giggle, despite hearing Luke pretending to gag. 

Once you take your seat, you pick up your glass of water and take a sip. 

“Want some peas, Liza?” You spoon a handful onto her plate, and she immediately grabs one and smooshes it into her mouth.

“Mama, can I have some more applesauce?” Luke asks.

Eddie’s breath hitches as his eyes meet yours. The warm and elated smile you give him tells him all that he needs to know for right now. Pressure forms behind his own eyes and he clears his throat before spearing a chunk of meatloaf with his fork. He does his best to push the emotions down for now, but he can’t help but beam from ear to ear. 

“That depends,” you respond to Luke as you pick up the jar of cinnamon applesauce.

“On what?” Luke asks. 

Your grin grows to match Eddie’s.

“Say it again.”

It takes Luke a second but then he laughs.

“Mama, can I have some more applesauce, please?”

“Mama! Mama!” Eliza cheers.

“You guys,” Ryan whines, giving an over-the-top roll of his eyes to show he’s not being serious. “You're gonna drive her crazy. Be nice to Mama.”

You feel as if you could explode from all the happiness growing inside of you. All three of your babies calling you “Mama” right in a row? A giddy light-headedness takes hold of you, and you can’t help but giggle girlishly. 

“I’m Mama,” you say to no one in particular as you hand Luke the jar of applesauce. 

“Well, now I feel left out,” Eddie says, letting his fork drop onto his plate. 

“Mama,” Eliza says, looking at her father.

“Oh yeah, you little wisecracker? Rubbing it in?” Eddie narrows his eyes at her and the baby giggles.

“You can say, ‘mama’ too,” Ryan tells him.

“Ah, I’m not gonna say it just for the hell of it,” Eddie says with a dismissive hand wave. “There has to be a reason.” 

He picks his fork back up, but as soon as he spears another piece of meatloaf, he drops it again, the utensil clinking against the ceramic dinner plate. 

“Wait! I got it,” he says. 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband as he sits up straighter and clears his throat. Whatever is about to happen should be interesting.

“Mamaaaa, just killed a man! Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead!”

Both you and the boys start laughing, which makes Eliza laugh as well.

“Mamaaaa, life had just begun!” Luke continues the song, “But now I’ve gone and thrown it all awaaaaay!”

“Mamaaaa, ooooooh!” Ryan picks up the next piece. “Didn’t mean to make you cry! If I’m not back again this time tomorrow, carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say as you stand up. “Bravo, everyone.” 

You give a slow clap as you walk over to your iPod dock on the counter. Its music kept you company while you were making dinner, but now it’s about to serve another purpose. Little clicks fill the quiet as you scroll through your small silver iPod and make sure to increase the volume from where you had it before. 

“If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to do this right,” you say as you come upon the correct song. “And we need to start teaching Eliza how to headbang, even if she doesn’t have a whole lot of hair to whip around yet.”

The moment you press play, the opening notes of Bohemian Rhapsody fill the air. As you walk back to your seat, you slowly wave your hands in front of you, as if you were conducting the tinkling music. 

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality

Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see

Luke slides off of his chair and walks on his knees over to you, hands clasped together just below his chin as he sings the next line to you.

“I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy.”

His theatrics make you chuckle, and you run your hand down the side of his face. 

Because I'm easy come, easy go

Little high, little low

Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me

“Okay, we all ready for the next line?” you ask, tugging Luke up off the floor and half onto your lap. 

Ryan nods and you grin as Luke wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans his head against yours.

“Two, three…” Eddie counts down before everyone at the table—sans the very confused and entertained baby—belts out the next line.”

“Mamaaaaaaaaa!”

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven

“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up. 

Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you. 

Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up. 

“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further. 

“What happened?” Oscar asks. 

“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs. 

+++

“Lan?” “Yeah?”

“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different. 

Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first. 

“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”

“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions. 

“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning? 

“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you? 

“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”

Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him. 

“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you. 

You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.

“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway. 

“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.” 

“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks. 

“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”

Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily. 

“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”

With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone. 

He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right. 

+++

“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”

Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him. 

“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.” 

“But.”

“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.” 

Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this. 

“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.” 

He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself? 

Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him. 

“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.” 

“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.

“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.

When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him. 

You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t. 

“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.” 

“Why?” You ask him. 

“Because we’re going to talk.”

“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”

“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”

You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.

The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore. 

The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess. 

It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you. 

“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore. 

He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string. 

Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage. 

“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you. 

“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.

“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. 

“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.

“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?” 

“Yes,” you agree with him.

“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.

“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”

Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out. 

“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says. 

“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando. 

“You,” Lando chuckles. 

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him. 

“Lan,” you softly speak up. 

“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”

“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?

“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you. 

“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”

You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.

After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…

“You want that?” Lando asks you confused. 

You only show him a small nod. 

“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?” 

“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”

“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”

“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando. 

“Hope?” He asks confused.

“Hope that you like me back.”

Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm. 

“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?” 

Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can. 

When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back? 

You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.” 

“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression. 

“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states. 

“Okay boyfriend,” you reply. 

“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again. 

+++

The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you. 

“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him. 

You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.

Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you. 

“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”

“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said. 

“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.” 

Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”

Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.

“Okay.”

a/n;

that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story

i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs

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[hearts4chriss]

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

Brothers bestfriend! Chris + needy! Nate’s lil sis

prompt: Nate ( ur older brother ) wants to go out for a bit with some of his other friends and he doesn’t trust you enough to stay home by urself without mom and dad since they won’t be there either. So he asks one of his best friend Chris to stay over and watch you, Matt and nick know ur crush on Chris so they pretend they can’t come.

Part 01

contains: masturbation ( no actual sex ), use of y/n ( sorry I have to ) dirty fantasies ( pet names, rough! Chris, dirty talk, degrading, forced head etc just beyond FILTHLY imagination ), use of vibrator on reader, caught by Chris, FORESHADOWING, fantasy will be like this

Nate are you serious I’m not 12! I whine when said he was gonna find a baby sitter for me knowing how much it pisses me off

I’m Nate doe’s little sister I’m 18, we’ve Been close to his bestfriends the sturniolo triplets. So obviously him being my brother naturally I got to know them.

Nick

I clicked with him superrr fast, I love his energy and when I found out he was gay that just made it all the better because I’ve always wanted a gay bestfriend, and we always have sleepovers :)

Matt

Matt’s absolutely adorable I love him he always helps me calm down whenever I’m about to or am having a panic attack, I remember one time during a test I forgot everything and almost had one and he slid me the answers. Love that kid

now there’s a reason I saved Chris for last,

Chris

chris and I know each other just as well if not even more then I do his other two brothers, we haven’t done anything unfortunately. I’ve had a crush on him since middle school.

First I just wanted to kiss him and hold his hand.

Then go to his house and do some more.

Then now, as an 18 year old I wanted him to fuck my Brains out.

I’m around him all the time since we all live in LA and always hanging out, I always see him shirtless and fucking hell it turns me on, I always get lucky since nick and matt found of my attraction to his brother they always snap me or text me pictures of him.

What sucks is I cant have him. It would take my life 1000 times over for me to be able to fuck chris sturniolo, and it sucks because my brother nate does not play that shit.

He strictly said "your not allowed to date any of them" obviously referring to matt and Chris.

Which also doesn't help because my wants and desires a hormonal teenage-adult girl only grow more whenever he comes around, chris is always there.

Now today, nate had to run some errands and nick matt and chris used to watch me when I was younger if my parents couldn't

Buttt, nick and matt "could not come due to personal issues" so. Your guess is right, im gonna be alone with chris for hours.

That thought alone made me soak in my p-

“Y/n! are you listening to me kid?” My older brother chuckles leaning against my doorway of my room as im on my bed watching "The Vampire Diaries".

“Huh? oh yeah im listening matt and nick cant come so chris is because im fucking 11.” I roll my eyes hiding my excitement from him watching me.

“Don't think of any weird shit alright? He's just watching you so don't-“

“Ugh is he here yet? You're annoying me already.” I groan shifting in my sheets and taking a sip from my celsius hearin our door open, they have a key.

“Welp thats chris.” Nate says tilting his head for me to get up.

I get up from the sheets wearing some pink sleep shorts and a white t-shirt and he raises an eyebrow.

“Your wearing THAT? around chris?” Nate chuckles and I flip him off.

“Hey! I heard that!.” Chris yells coming up the stairs sounding offended.

He's now at the top of the steps. oh my fuck he looks so good.

Its around 6ish in LA right now and hes wearing a black tank top and grey fresh love sweats, slight stubble and his hair was a bit messy which I always liked and my eyes immediately drifted to his natural bulge in his pants as him and Nate were talking.

“Just make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.” Nate puts his arm around me giving me a hug and Chris chuckles.

“Don’t worry bro she’s safe with me.” He says before dapping him up as Nate leaves the house. yeah safer if you were balls deep inside

Oh god Chris sh-shit so-d-deep inside me

Yeah? You feel me deep inside you baby?

bro she’s like zoning out today. Nate chuckled and I snap out of it

Whatever no I wasn’t! Just go!

Soon after it was just me and Chris so we made our way down to the living room

“Where are ur other two clones?” I chuckle getting situated on the couch before turning on a movie saltburn

“they have “personal issues”.” He said rolling his eyes causing a small laugh to fall from my lips.

“So it’s just you and me little one.” A smirk curving on his lips, just enough for my panties to be soaked.

Shut up Chris I’m 18.I mutter trying to watch the movie in peace and he chuckles

the movie went on and it was now, the bathtub scene where jacob elordi ( Felix ) is jerking off.

I peer over to Chris whose eyes are clearly fixated on the screen as my squeeze my thighs together under the blanket feeling all my hormonal thoughts leaking through my panties.

This had nothing to do with the movie, it’s the thought for Chris doing that to himself that had turned me on most. The tension so thick a knife couldn’t even cut through.

“Uhm I-i gotta go to the bathroom”. I nearly choke and I fix my shorts placing the blanket down where I was sitting.

“Don’t take to long I’ll miss you.” He chuckles and that didn’t help.

I go to my room and close the door squeezing my eyes shut.

I had maybe 5 minutes to relieve myself.

I quickly reach into my drawer grabbing my vibrating dildo and the remote for it.

I pull down my shorts and panties and spread my legs letting the tip of the toy get coated in my wetness and I bite my lip slightly feeling the thickness of it.

I turned it on letting out a soft moan slowly inserting it, wishing this was Chris’s dick instead.

I began thrusting the toy in and out of my pussy letting the squelching sounds of arousal grow letting it drip down curling my toes throwing my head on the pillows allowing my mind to drift

I was in Chris’s/my room my head smushed in the pillows as his cock rammed inside me whilst I was on my stomach. His hips slamming against my ass and his hand wrapped around my lower stomach as I cried out his name

Fuck fuckk so d-deep- I whimper into the pillows as he was bringing me to my 4th orgasm, we had switched numerous positions and my legs were quivering in front of him as he laid a hard snack to my ass chucking behind me.

such a fucking slut letting me fuck you like this, imagine if ur brother found out his little sister was getting her pussy pounded by his bestfriend. He laid another harsh smack to my ass and I jolted forward.

stretched this pussy out so good- he groans rubbing my clit to chase both our orgasms.

ngh- o-oh shit- fuck- I gripped the sheets tightly curses of Chris’s name flew out my mouth feeling my eyes water from the angle of his hips thrusting allowing his thick cock to hit every single spot inside me

come on sweetheart cum for me, you have another one in you yeah? He grunted lowly in my ear kissing me sloppily as a string of Saliva parts from our lips each time we kiss moaning into each others mouths.

“Oh fuck Chris I-“ I curl my toes and yell loudly as I’m about to release on the toy before I look up and see Chris. Was. Watching me.

“Were you playing with yourself?” Chris leans on the doorway of my room his eyes darting to between ny legs as I was thrusting the toy in and out of me and I quickly covered up my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Uhm…maybe. Sorry I-I’ll be down in a second-“

Maybe I can help. Chris says closing the door to my room approaching my bed

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

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[aakeysmash]

heyy, i love ur writing ! i know u dont take requests so i js wanted to clarify that this is NOT one of ht i js wanted to know ur thoughts on how u think collagesukuna would react too yuuji calling the reader mom by accident. i think i'd be pretty funnyb

I think he’d be weirded out so bad initially 😭

Sure, he and Yuuji had a mom, but it’s not like she was around enough for them to call her mom. You’re the first girl who has been next to them more than a usual Sukuna’s one night stand, so it’s only natural that Yuuji likes you. Mainly because you care about him too, never letting him feel too left out when you’re both home and treating him like you’re his big sister.

You know when elementary students call their teacher “mom”? That’s kinda how it happens. You just finished cooking lunch for the three of you: Yuuji is yapping his brother’s ear off and Sukuna is trying not to yell at him to shut the fuck up, distracting himself with videos on his phone.

You hand Yuuji his own full plate and he smiles up at you, saying “Thanks mom!”.

You freeze for a moment, then brush it off with a smile. You have little siblings, so it’s not the first time you’ve been mistakenly called mom. Sukuna, on the other hand, is gaping; Yuuji’s face is the color of the tomato sauce you put in the pasta. The kid is too embarrassed to say anything, so he just starts to eat as fast as he can. You ask him if it’s good and he tries to avoid your gaze.

“Y-yeah, you’re a really great cook! I-I’m sorry for… calling you like that,” he rushes out. He thinks you’re mad, and he doesn’t want you to be upset with him. You look confused.

“What did you call me? Oh!” You start laughing when the realisation hits. “Don’t worry about it, when I was your age I called my aunt “mom” all the time,” you reassure him, winking. He gives you a little smile, then gets back to eating.

Sukuna has been completely stiff since he heard Yuuji. When you hand him his plate he jumps, then shakes his head and starts eating too.

“Weirdo. There’s more if you want to eat like a cow like always,” you say, raising one of your eyebrows. His tense shoulders drop, then he smirks a little.

“Sure, ma’.”

He receives a slap on the shoulder from you and a groan from Yuuji.