#and articles were flying in all day

[fightingdragonswithwho]

taylor jenkins reid talking about a league of their own on her stories <3

[planetsage]

FHUCK MEEEE i need like semi-public sex with dom!choso he’s like on my mind 24/7 uhm

NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🪴 PUT THAT PUSSY ON ME𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── choso kamo 𝜗𝜚

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contains. 2k words + nsfw so, minors do not interact. f!reader, dom!cho, boxer!cho, established relationship, blood, sweat, semi public sex, locker room sex, f rec oral, a little ass eating (if you squint), spit, hair pulling, dirty talk, breeding, overstim, creampie, biting, cum eating.

all big-time boxers practice abstinence for at least a week before their fights; an age-old tradition that’s been torched down from talent to talent said to preserve testosterone, aggression, and most importantly, the drive to win.

it makes sense. not only on the physical side of things, but mentally. discipline — “if a player can’t handle a month or 20 days without having relations, then he’s not really ready to be a professional.”

although choso knew of this prior to becoming a fighter, his coach never actually brought it up to him until you were sat with big child-like eyes, pupils dilated as if trying to drink in every little detail, watching your amateur boyfriend practice for the first time.

it felt like a world of its own with choso sitting atop it on a blood-stained throne. the smell of leather and sweat suffused through the large dome-shaped gym, dull thuds and thumps of fists hitting bags, feet screeching sounding over music.

shirtless, choso’s muscles pumped and flexed as glossy sweat trickled down his temples, merging into rivulets that traced the contours of his face before dripping off his chin and down, down, down his battered body; each quick movement sent salty droplets flying, making dark, little circular marks on the mat.

his arms and core clenched, causing his thick biceps to swell, veins prominent beneath flushed skin like flowing riverbeds; his abs rippling with every rapid punch. the rigid meat of his heavy thighs bulged through black nylon shorts as he hopped around fluidly. dancing. it was truly hypnotic.

about halfway into his practice, you found yourself slightly tilting your head to the side in confusion as his coach moved to point at you.

me?

choso seemed annoyed, running a taped hand through his sweat-ridden hair. then he nodded before they both dispersed to start another round of sparring.

“he said i can’t fuck you anymore”

choso’s wet body clung tightly to your previously dry one, making a sticky connection as he squirted a stream of electrolyte-mixed water from a bottle he clutched with thick hands into his scarred mouth. his usually pink lips were a little red. swollen and plumped, making them jut out, begging to be kissed by your softer ones.

and he was exhausted, visibly. his body sagging when he practically mounted you as soon as he finished practicing, the musky, almost primal scent emitting from him filling your senses in a heady wave as he whined and pouted over his coach’s orders when you asked what had been said earlier, handing him a fresh towel.

“he went full authoritarian on me,” he roughly scrubbed his flushed face with the cloth before dragging it over and around his arms, then abs letting the cotton soak up his sweat, “said we can’t do anything … its so stupid, i’ve done research on it, y’know. it’s a myth”

he rambled on and on, his voice soaked in frustration, bringing up the hundreds of articles he scoured. the way he animatedly swung his arms around, bloodied lip, and still damp with sweat, made you giggle.

you leaned in to gently press a kiss to the corner of his lips. “hey, it’s okay,” you hummed soothingly, contrasting his outburst, “it’s only just before a fight. it can’t be that bad, right?”

and it wouldn’t be.

if choso’s feelings for you didn’t border obsession. he physically can’t go over a day without stuffing your pussy full of his gooey cum and he’d be dammed if some dumb ‘tradition’ that lacked the backing of science stopped him from fucking his pretty girl.

so here you are. embarrassingly parting your sticky folds with meek fingers, revealing your glossy pussy to eager, purpled eyes in the dim back corner of a stuffy locker room.

approximately … thirty seven minutes until choso’s fight.

after a verbal beating from his coach, he was, unwillingly, forced to abstain; forced to spend weeks on edge around you, to not so much as brush a finger against your soft skin because he’d get hard and shoot out hot cum untouched. and he was so close to being successful, too, but he swore he’d lose with how full and heavy his fat balls felt, nudging you into the locker room with empty promises of being “so quick”.

“just need ta taste my baby first,” his voice came out in a heavy whisper as he licked up the fat of your inner thighs, the cooled air of the cramped room circulating and brushing against your achy clit making you flinch, “poor thing .. you missed me too, hm? missed my mouth, pretty?”

“choso hur—”

“shh. ‘m not talkin’ ta you ‘m talkin’ ta her,” he was undividedly staring at your pussy as if trying to commit the filthy imagine of it leaking, clenching around nothing to memory before he rubbed the tip of his flushed nose against your pretty clit, nuzzling into that addictive scent he had been yearning for for what felt like decades.

that said, he was still taking his sweet time.

pressing almost petty pecks to your sensitive thighs, humming out a singsongy ‘aaahh’ before biting into them, leaving fresh pretty marks now that all the old ones have faded. fidgeting on his knees, probably bruising them as he drug his pudgy bulge against the tiled floor until he’s finally, finally moving to lick a long, slow stripe up your pussy, making your hips sputter and buck up against his face.

he’s so loud and messy.

eating you like he’s been starved because, well, technically, he has, “mmmmmm tas’ so fuckin’ good baby. missed— mmhhm havin’ you on my tongue”

cradling your clit with his puffy lips to firmly suck up and drool back out. viscous spit slips out from your pussy, leaving the bench all wet and sticky, so he pauses. because it’s rude to leave messes, shifting his attention from your sloppy hole to drag his tongue on the cold metal bench and clean it all up. the wet muscle brushing, slipping past your ass, making you yelp.

“choso please— hur— hurry. you’re gonna be late” with balled fists you push against his head, musing his inky black hair and if it had been under any other circumstances, he would’ve punished you for interrupting his meal. but he was going to be late, twenty three more minutes and god knows how many rounds it’s gonna take to empty his balls, so he lets you glide all over the thin ice.

just this once.

“fuck, baby, let me fuck that pussy from the front” choso stands up to shove his now tight shorts down to his ankles, his cock springing out, eagerly slapping against his stomach as precum dribbles onto his chest. “always cum so fast when m’ lookin’ at that pretty face”

he wraps his hand around his shaft to move and press his chubby tip against your little hole, scribbling all over it with a hum before leaning to spit a fat bubbly glob onto your needy pussy.

a pretty whine escapes you as you softly lift up your hips begging him to just slip it in, “quit actin so needy, ‘m riiighht here” dragging out his words, he sloowwwly lets his cockhead sink past your folds, whining at how fucking tight you are.

he missed his pretty pussy so much. so, so much.

“fuck, ‘s so big” it’s been a while since you’ve felt the stretch of his cock molding your walls to fit him making tears swell and clump up in your curled lashes as you fling your arms around the slope of his shoulders before you’re shoving your face into the side of his warmed neck.

but he said he needs to see that pretty face, so he’s quickly moving to grab a fist full of your hair, roughly pulling you back by your scalp as you squeal, your mouth falling open to let in and out deep shaky breaths, “look at me”

and he holds you there, forcing you to stare into his darkened eyes as he fully bottoms out to bully his plump, heavy cock up into you. giving you the messiest, most feral strokes. losing his mind in your pretty pussy, already twitching inside you, spilling out pearls of precum that kiss your spongy g spot.

you can’t even moan. just weakly whimpering out broken cries of his name, ”so— ch— cho ssso” as he drags his cock against your gooey walls, his left hand thumbing at your sensitive clit sparking big tears to slip down your cheeks, your eyes hazing over, starting to slip up .. and go back just a little revealing porcelain white, then a little mor-

“i said fuckin’ look at me”

he jerks your head around like some doll; again, forcing you to stare up at him as he knocks the wind out of you with every snap of his waist. and he looks dazed. his hair is messy, mussed, and tossed to his shoulders as sweat catches a few strands to curl up and stick to his temples. he’s almost pink, flushed with so much fever, fucking into your sloppy pussy as he growls, “theeeree you go. ‘m so close, baby— shit. want me to fill that pretty pussy, huh? want me to— fuuuckk pump you full of my cum? hm?”

but his feral growls start to turn into pretty little saccharine whimpers as he gets closer and closer, sputtering his rose-skinned hips, “yeah cho. give it to me— haaa mmm, wan’ it all. fill me up”

“you wan’ it all?” his grip on your hair grows tighter, vice-like, as he mocks your needy little tone with a breathy chuckle, “want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? knock you up then go knock that fucker out?”

bobbing up and down dumbly, you nod, his words stringing in one ear and quickly out the other because it’s just so fuckin’ good.

he’s pulling you closer, closer, and closer to that edge he loves to dangle you over. “choso ‘m gonna—”

“i know, mama. can feel it. keep lookin’ at me. give it to me”

with a whimper of his name, your knees crash into each other, your toes curling as white-hot pleasure strikes like thick bolts of lightning behind your eyes.

choso’s pulling them back apart and you almost fall off the bench until he’s wrapping his thicker arms around your body to keep fucking into you, “thereee you goo, mhm. look so pretty like that baby” talking you through it so sweetly as if he’s not overstimulating you. rewiring your brain.

“shi— shit, baby fuckin’ milkin’ me .. gonna— ‘m gonna—”

groaning too loud, his hips stilled as he dumped the heavy buildup of cum into your more than welcoming pussy, his head slumping forward to bite into your shoulder and muffle himself.

he’s filling you up so well, shooting thick ropes into your pretty, satiny walls as he pulses and twitches inside you.

but he’s still so hard.

pulling out to wrap a hand around his cock, jerking himself off, roughly, it looks like it hurts, “stick your, haah fuck, stick your fuckin’ tongue out” griping as his chest caves in and heaves until he’s spilling more hot cum onto your pretty fucked out face.

his head falls back, his body swaying slightly as he catches his breath, his muscles relaxing with a heavy sigh until he leans back down to lick up his sticky mess, making you buzz with warmth, twitching at the feeling of his warm tongue. “hhnngg— choso you have to goo”

oh yeah.

he hums, a smile tugging at his lips against your skin before he reluctantly pulls back, moving to draw up his shorts, “almost forgot about that,” he grabs a handful of his messed hair to pull back up into his trademark buns, “i’ll be quick, baby. still got the taste of my good luck charm on my tongue”

not even an hour later, before you can completely clean yourself off and find your bearings, a deafening lion-like roar surges from the full crowd piercing through the thick walls of the locker room. your head quirks up, and then you hurriedly push through the door, almost jogging into the arena.

there he is.

in the center of it all looming over his opponent. the referee pulls up choso’s arm and again; the crowd erupts as the other poor soul winces, crimson-faced, red gloves covering their bloodied expression.

amidst it all, choso’s eyes find yours. he’s licking at the corner of his lips with a knowing smirk.

all big-time boxers practice abstinence for at least a week before their fights; all expect the biggest rising rookie choso kamo.

© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.

[sistertotheknowitall]

Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.1 - The Invitation

IVE Rei x Male Reader (ft. Karina)

"Harder, daddy. Harder!"

The sweet moans of the idol beneath you are music to your ears as you piston into her wet folds rapidly, a hand of yours gripping her throat and another kneading her large plentiful tits as she barely manages to stay on all fours on the bed. Her arched back is dripping with sweat and her breath is ragged. Nevertheless, she takes your pounding without complaint, like a good whore she is.

"You like it, huh? You cock hungry whore"

You ask over her mewls resonating around the room as you grip her throat even tighter, depriving her of oxygen.

"Yes...daddy...pound me"

Karina's voice comes out distorted and inaudible but it's impressive how she still manages to make a sound despite your hold on her vocal cords.

"Good girl"

You praise her and bring your palm over one of her asscheeks, which are jiggling with every one of your thrusts. The slap comes down harder than you expect, leaving a red handprint on that porcelain skin of hers. You repeat the motion again, this time on her other cheek, making it jiggle even more, marking it with your handprints as well. Maybe Karina squeals but it blends into her moans and the sound of her breath which is becoming even more shallow with how long you have been choking her.

You would have never thought you would have the chance to see Karina in real life , left alone fuck her. You have always drooled over the bounce of her huge tits and her curves as you jerk off to her fancams again and again. You would even get hard just from seeing that AI like face of her. However, these days are over as you claim her body as your own with your cock.

Karina's eyes begin to roll into the back of her head as she is cut off from the supply of her life force, oxygen, for too long. That doesn't make you decrease your pace or lessen the hold on her throat either. The only supply she needs to live right now is your cum.

As Karina's body becomes limp like a lifeless doll, you start to feel your high slowly approaching. That sensation in your stomach that travels down to your pelvis and ultimately to your shaft.

"Gonna cum, Karina, don't waste a drop"

You order as your flood gates finally open and Karina open her mouth to let out her final moan, but the sound that comes out is-

"Ring ring ring"

Your eyes flutter open as the alarm clock wakes you from your blissful dream.

"You are an idiot, Michael"

You mutter to yourself as you turn off the alarm. You? Fucking Karina? Yeah, sure, that can happen when pigs fly. You sit up in your bed, only to find yourself rock hard from that wet dream you have been having. That's a matter you should take care of later.

You slowly get off your bed and rub your eyes, the view of your messy room greeting you as usual. The tiny room is stuffed with every single one of your possessions. A shelf against the wall, taking up most of the room and a small wardrobe in the corner which is next to a table and a chair, piled with stationaries and stack of papers.

It's a dump, sure. But it can be considered a luxury for a writer like you. At least you have your own space. You have always dreamed of writing stories and hell, you even have a ten book series planned out in your mind. But in reality, you are barely scrapping by. Going from one publishing house to another to get that novel of yours released that have been sitting on the same table for years. You managed to survive with the money you get from your part time job and sometimes when luck is on your side, some of your articles and poems got featured in some magazines no one read.

"Stop whining" you remind yourself. "You just haven't found your true potential yet" An empty encouragement, yet it gets your mind off the bad stuff. You make your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth, staring at the wreckage in the mirror which is your reflection. Your eyes were ringed with dark circles and your head throbs with pain from all the shots you chugged down at the bar yesterday after running into some old friends.

You head to the shower and you are about to turn the water on when you see a bigger problem at hand than smelling like a rat dies in your hair. The boner was still there, stiff and hard as ever. That dream really takes a toll on you.

You grab the phone on the sink and scroll through the collection of hundred videos of female idols you have saved on your phone, choosing the best one to jerk off to. There's so much variety to choose from, ass? tits? face? You once heard someone say "Jerking off is not hard, finding the material to jerk off to is" It seems like the case now.

Finally, you land on the video of Rei from IVE. The busty japanese idol in a white top and a skirt. Her tits bouncing with every move she makes. Not the ideal choice but you will settle for it.

You are about to get your hands on your mamba that's ready to pounce when a notification comes up on your screen.

"Still jerking off to Idols? Why not fuck them instead?"

You are confused. What kind of notification is that? It is like someone is watching you right here, right now. Maybe someone is pulling a prank on you? That's impossible because no one knows about your guilty pleasure.

Reluctantly, you scroll down to see the source of the message. On the left side of the notification is the icon of an app, a dark heart shape and its name on top "Ero". You are pretty sure you have never installed such an app on your phone but curiosity gets the best of you. You click on the notification.

Immediately, your screen light up with a warm neon glow as the loading screen popped up, with the same dark heart shape and the name "Ero" in the centre of the screen. After a minute of waiting, you are about to give up and quit the app when the screen shifts. Now, it displays a text box at the bottom of the screen like in video games and the same black heart rotate slowly like a top above it.

The text in the textbox says,

"Welcome, chosen one. Continue to your first quest?"

Chosen one? What in the Harry Potter is happening here? And what quest? Is this some sort of game? And what does it have to do with you jerking yourself off to idols? Million questions swell in your head but of course your curiosity pushes you to click the 'yes' button under the text.

For a moment, the screen is black. Then it lights up with such a bright white light that you nearly got blinded. The light dims, leaving another text box in the middle of the screen.

"First Quest: Rei's Blowjob

Have Rei sucks you off and endure it for 30 minutes"

Your mind is one complete mess, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. This sound like some sort of porn games you play on your laptop. Main character being chosen and all. But this is very much real though you still doubt this is some kind of scam app that steals the information from your phone. Not like you have any data worth stealing though. Another reason to doubt it even more.

As your brain gets blowtorched with questions, your phone suddenly shuts off. Before your fingers can reach the screen to turn it back on, the whole bathroom goes dark. When you say dark, you are not talking "turn off the light at night" dark. Only darkness exists within your vision as if the whole room have been swallowed by the night. You are about to move forward and try to reach out desperately for something to hold onto when your whole body gets washed over by a sensation like getting dipped in icy water. Your body starts to give out, your knees turning to jelly.

"Am I gonna die?"

You think.

"Oh god, I'm gonna die"

The darkness is the last thing you see before you are greeted by it once again as your eyelids close shut.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

The first thing on your mind when you regain consciousness is

"What the hell happened?"

You slowly open your eyes to see a chandelier on the ceiling above. Its yellow lights sting your eyes after seeing only the dark for so long. You slowly sit up, the fatigue in your body is gone, replaced by the lust earlier before you get dragged into this mess by an app. You are still clothless, your mamba springing up like a missel ready to launch.

You stand up, taking in your surrounding. You are in a vast room made entirely of mahogany. In the center of the room is a canopy bed with draping black curtains, opened to reveal the red bedsheets behind. On the console table in one corner rests a black vase holding a single red rose. Apart from it, the whole room is deprived of furniture, giving it a hollow incomplete feeling. The chandelier is the only light source but it is obviously not enough to illuminate the whole room as dark spots are scattered all around the room. If this is not creepy enough, the room has no doors.

Your first instinct is to try to escape but breaking out of a doorless room is easier said than done. Maybe you are dead and in heaven? Sure, if heaven is one dark ghastly room. But you doubt you will get in to heaven. You go back to the source of this problem. That stupid "Ero" app. And what did it say again? A quest, get a blowjob from Rei. But where is Rei?

"Here"

A voice utters from one corner of the room as if answering your thoughts. Your eyes adjust to the dark as a girl emerges from the gloomy spot, emerging from the shadows. It can't be, you think. But no doubt, standing before you is Rei, the japanese member of IVE, dressed in a black low cut sweater dress as if there isn't enough darkness in here and a loose belt wrapped around her waist like she has put it on in a rush. Her dreamy eyes beneath her hazel hair trace your body, studying you and you definitely don't want to be studied while you are butt naked. She folds her arms judgmentally, accentuating the shape of her huge tits under the fabric.

"Master, what takes you so long?"

She asks and you are speechless. Master? This have to be another wet dream. You should have response with some sort of snarky remark but all you can say is

"What?"

You want to bash your head with that vase on the table. A girl is calling you master and that's your first words to her. Stupid as ever.

"Master, I have been waiting for you. What takes you so long?"

This time your response is a bit better.

"Eh, I was busy..."

"I can't wait for that huge cock of yours, I need it so bad"

She whines, gazing at your exposed cock which is hard as ever. This gets you into your mood.

"Then why don't you come and taste it?"

You order, remembering your quest, blowjob. Maybe you can choose other alternatives too but this is a start.

"As you wish master"

Rei kneels, looking up at your cock as if it's something glamorous. The fingers of her left hand close around the base of your shaft, slowly stroking it and fuck, with how smooth her palm feels, you are not sure if you can hold out for 30 minutes for that stupid quest. Her movements are fluid, not too fast or too slow, taking her time just travelling her fingers along your shaft.

"Am I doing well master?"

She asks, looking up at you with her doll eyes.

"Yes, Rei but you have to be better than this"

Rei doesn't answer. Instead, she wraps the rest of her fingers above the space over the first ones and start stroking your cock faster. The friction sending jolts after jolts of pleasure through you body. Her fingers work like magic, with just the right grip and the right motion. Meanwhile, Rei's eyes never leave your cock, focused on it entirely.

"Like this, master?"

"Yes, Rei. Fuck, don't stop"

You groans as pleasure overwhelms you if every stroke of her fingers, bringing you closer and closer to your edge until you remember the time limit. You don't know what will happen if you fail, but you don't want to find out.

You grab Rei's wrist and stop her.

"Master needs you to use that pretty little mouth"

"Mhmm.....yes, master. I want to feel that hard cock stuffed in my throat"

Rei's filthy words leave her mouth no sooner than she impales it on your cock, stuffing your whole length down her throat. Usually, you expect some foreplay. A kiss there, a lick here. But Rei either doesn't know about or care about it as she engulfs your cock in one swift motion. A groan escapes your lips, the sudden warmth and the tightness indulging you with ecstasy. She holds you in her throat, her nose presses against your pelvis.

You have had blowjobs before but Rei's is on a whole different level. Her throat constricts around you, her neck bulging with the foreign object entering it. You are starting to think she's gonna hold you forever when she pulls back, a loud gag escaping her mouth as globes of saliva drop to the ground, the remnants connecting your tip and her lips in silky strings.

You expect her to take a breather but nevertheless she immediately went down on your cock again, taking it back into her warm cavern as she devours it like a hungry beast. Her plump lips sealed around your shaft as she bobs up and down with unyielding speed. Every single movement of hers seem calculated, designed to pleasure you in every way possible. The way her tongue traces the underside of your shaft, the way she moans around your cock, the intentional gagging sounds she makes ever so often. It's like a well organized orchestra with the instruments being her lips, tongue and her throat.

Saliva escapes from the corner of her lips with every bob, dripping down to her thighs and her cleavage, staining her black dress even blacker. You hold a tight grip on her hair, tying it in a lock in your grasp. Finally, she pulls back, leaving only the tip inside her mouth as her fingers envelope you shaft once again, stroking it so fast you think it's gonna start sparking. It might have as well as your body start heating up from her masterclass of a handjob, sweat beads hanging on your temples. You throw your head back, rejoicing in the bliss of Rei's tongue swirling around your head in harmony with her fingers that twist and turn all the way to her lips and back.

You have lost the sense of time, drowned by the euphoric feeling that doesn't seem to be stopping anytime. Has it been thirty minutes? You have no idea. But you are glad you hold out for this long. Time limit or not, you don't want this to end anytime soon.

However, everything have a limit and so do you. As Rei's hand leaves your shaft, only to be swallowed up and deepthroated once again, you start feeling that familiar feeling of the knot in your stomach, unravelling bits by bits. Your cock starts throbbing in the warmth of Rei's throat constricting and relaxing around the tip, as if giving it a massage.

Rei, who's either oblivious to it or doesn't care, suddenly release your pulsing pole from her mouth. She looks up at you and gives you a sly smile, like she knows how desperate you are for release.

"Is Master gonna cum?"

She asks with a smirk and god, you just wants to grab her hair and impale her on your cock again but you don't want to end things sloppily (ironic with how sloppy it already is) but you just nod.

"Cum down my throat master, fill up your slutty whore."

She says opening her mouth, waiting for your move and you instinctively grabs her hair in a makeshift messy ponytail and starts thrusting into her mouth like it's her pussy.

Everytime your cock hits the back of her throat, you get closer and closer to the finale of this rapturous session. Rei holds her gaze to yours, pleading with her eyes to you how badly she needs your cum, how badly she needs to be filled up from the brim.

"Rei....I'm cumming"

You announce as you conclude the act by burying your cock to the hilt into her welcoming throat, unloading spurts after spurts of cum all the way down into her stomach. It seems to go on forever, the flow of cum never ending until it eventually does.

You pulls out your now spent rod from her tight cavern. Rei's mouth was still open, saliva flowing like a waterfall and forming a puddle between the red mahogany floor between her knees, which are trembling nonstop.

"Thanks master"

She mutters, her voice hoarse from being deprived of oxygen.

"Good girl"

You mutter, grinning like a madman. You are pretty sure this definitely isn't a dream. And you just use an idol like a fleshlight. And your quest. Yeah, your quest. The reason you are here. Have you completed it?

As you are reflecting yourself, you are engulfed by darkness once again.

"Shit, not again"

You cursed under your breath. Anymore exposure to darkness today and you won't be able to see colors anymore.

"Worry not, chosen one"

A voice boomed all around you as if the darkness have built in speakers.

"You performed well, I expect more from you in the future"

You are about to protest when the same cold feeling earlier wash over you again and your mind goes blank.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(My first smut and the start of a series, I hope you enjoy it)

[dollfacefantasy]

wearing leon's hoodie during sex… he’s fucking u from behind and pushes the hoodie up to reveal your back… he grabs the top of the hoodie for leverage, and to pull you closer…

uh huh uh huh. i see your vision so here's a little drabble <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

It starts when Leon comes home from running some errands. He's kind of riled up. There was traffic, it was too cold out, there was people everywhere, and it seemed like he was the only one who knew what he was doing. He slams the front door and tosses his keys on the counter, letting out an irritated sigh and stomping up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

But there you are. His baby. Tucked away safe from the rest of the world. His beam of sunshine among the gray clouds that pollute the sky today.

You're laying on the bed, curled up with a blanket and gazing at the tv with only half your attention. Long legs lie exposed, soft from the strawberry scented lotion you'd lathered them in. Best of all, you're wearing his hoodie. An article of his clothing.

He tries to be casual about getting what he wants. He attempts pleasantries, acts like the shedding of his clothes is innocent. He's only doing it to be comfy enough to join you in your lazy day.

Not even thirty minutes later though, you're face down, head pressed to the pillow, ass raised in the air. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he sheaths himself all the way inside you. You whine as your hole stretches around his length, accepting the intrusion. Your fingers claw at the fluffy blanket beneath you as he starts thrusting.

In and out, back and forth. It seems like each time he hits a new pleasure spot or coaxes another needy whine from your lips.

"That's right, baby. Feels so good, doesn't it?" he grunts as he pumps his cock as deep as it can go within you.

"Mhm," you whimper your voice shaky.

"Uh huh," he agrees. The sound of him panting combined with the slap of his skin on yours overwhelms your brain. "Who's fucking you this good, honey? Who's got you making all those cute little noises?"

The response is automatic. "You," you choke out as your body rocks with his momentum.

"Who?" he prompts you, wanting specificity.

Your words falter for a moment under the pressure of him rutting into your soaked cunt, but you regain the ability to speak before he could ask again.

"Leon," you whine, dragging out the ending sound.

He mumbles some words of praise, but they fly right over your head. His thoughts weren't on what he was saying either. He was much more focused on hearing you cry out his name while his eyes locked on the space between your shoulder blades.

On the fabric of the hoodie in that area, Kennedy was emblazoned in vinyl. It stood out in bright white on the soft black cloth. You were his. There was the physical and verbal proof. He pistons into you at a quicker speed as the primal part of his brain starts to take over. The part that just wanted to claim you and keep you as his own held the reins now.

Your eyes start to gloss up as thoughts melt away in your brain and drip from your mouth as drool. Your cheek squishes further into the mattress below. Everything is getting to that point where it feels fuzzy and far away. And you're content with that. You're content to just melt into a puddle of euphoria on the bed, but Leon had other ideas for you.

He bunches the hood of his hoodie together, handling it like he would a leash. Then with a firm tug, you're straight up on your knees. Your back is arched so your ass is flush against his pelvis while your head bobbles around near his.

"Oh fuck, baby..." you cry, "So fucking deep now."

He chuckles and yanks you even closer. The new angle did have him even further within you. If it wasn't for his hand supporting you, there was no doubt in your mind you'd flop forward and face plant into the memory foam.

His hips snap as though they're possessed, not stopping for the slightest break. Both of you are starting to work up a sweat, you a little more so from the thick fabric that covered your upper half.

"Mhm. All the way inside you. And I'm the only one who's ever gonna feel this," he mumbles.

"Only you," you agree without a second thought.

You can't speak anymore than that because your voice has devolved into pure moaning. Soft little cries of ecstasy leave you over and over as he fills you up just as many times.

"Want you to cum for me, baby. Milk me fucking dry so I can mark you on the inside too," he mutters.

And that's all it takes really. The thought of being claimed so thoroughly does it for you, and you seize up on command. Every part of you contracts and tightens up, including your pussy, locking him in.

That's what does it for him. The knowledge that you want to be claimed, that you love that you're all his. He shoots all his release inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.

Afterwards, he takes care to clean you up, actually ask about your day while he gets you comfy again. The sweat-soaked hoodie ends up in the laundry, and the two of you curl up in bed, together this time. If he didn't get off on the possessive part of this whole thing so much, he'd probably just buy you one of those hoodies for yourself. You were gonna be a Kennedy in no time anyways.

[steddiealltheway]

It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))

Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.

There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)

Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).

But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-

Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.

The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.

And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???

He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.

Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.

During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.

Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.

It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…

Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.

There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.

Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.

He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.

Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.

Wait.

Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.

“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.

Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?

Absolutely. He can do this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Robin, I can't do this."

Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."

"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."

"Uh huh."

Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"

"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."

Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."

"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.

Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."

"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.

Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."

Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."

A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.

"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.

Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"

Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.

He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.

When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.

Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.

"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...

Oh.

Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.

Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.

He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.

"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.

Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."

Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"

Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.

"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.

"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.

Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.

"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."

"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."

"Since when do we-"

"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."

Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"

"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."

"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."

"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."

Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"

Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."

Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."

Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."

"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.

"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.

"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."

Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"

Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.

"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.

Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.

"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.

"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.

"Steve," Eddie tries again.

And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.

Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.

After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"

"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.

Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.

Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.

"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"

"No," Steve says honestly.

Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"

"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.

"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"

"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.

Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.

Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"

Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"

"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.

"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.

Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.

"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.

"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"

"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.

Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.

"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.

"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."

Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."

Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.

Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.

"Steve, please don't."

Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.

Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?

Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.

Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.

Eddie: Please shut up.

Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.

Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.

Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.

Eddie: Next question, please.

Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."

Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"

Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."

It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"

Eddie's head pops up. "What?"

Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."

"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.

Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."

"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.

Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.

"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.

Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."

"Why?"

"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Steve replies.

They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.

"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.

"Robin was right."

Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"

"Never," Steve answers simply.

They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.

"What are you thinking about?"

Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.

"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.

And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hello. (Bingo) Can you write Dark Clark Kent and plus size female kryptoian reader ?

.⋆｡The Last of His Kind｡⋆.

Dark!Clark Kent x plus size reader

Clark is no stranger to loneliness, but a mysterious ship in the middle of the desert could be just the answer he’s been searching for

Warnings: kryptonian!reader, DARK FIC but more soft than my usual stuff, naive reader, kidnapping?, possessive!clark, no use of Y/N, future isolation and controlling behaviour WC: 1k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Clark had always been alone in the universe, an unfortunate consequence of his own people’s arrogance and willing ignorance of the happenings of the world around them. He didn’t mind so much as he had never experienced anything different but after Zod and the briefest of hints that he wasn’t the last, Clark felt a deep stirring in his chest.

He often caught himself staring off into the void between stars, wondering if there were others out there. But his duty was to Earth, he couldn’t just leave because of some slim hope that other Kryptonians lived on a far away planet. And even if there were, they could be like Zod- power hungry and cruel. 

But on a cool day in late October, Clark got his chance to find out.

The office was almost empty, everyone having gone home early to beat the autumn storm that was predicted for later that evening, leaving Clark virtually alone in his block of cubicles. His article was almost done but he found himself picking it apart over and over again, like something deep in the recesses of his mind was telling him to delay returning home for as long as he could. Then, he heard it.

A heavy thud of something crashing into the earth, it had to be bigger than a meteor but far smaller than an airplane or weather balloon. Clark’s head tilted as he focused all of his senses to somewhere in the Sahara. The groan and pop of heated metal slowly cooling, the hiss of air escaping a pressurised chamber. He could smell gunpowder and dust that clung to the shell of whatever it was. But he could also hear the steady beat of something within the metal.

With a cautionary glance around the office, which was now absent of anyone save for him, Clark stood. He was careful enough to shut down his computer and gather his things but as soon as his bag was zipped and he was safely in the stairwell, he darted down the stairs, just barely keeping himself restrained enough not to go too fast and give himself away.

He could hear the beating slowly getting faster. He ran out of the building as the hissing ceased and the familiar turning of gears started, just like it had in the ship he discovered in the arctic. Clark stumbled over his work shoes, the buttons of his shirt practically flying off in his struggle to get out of them. If this was another Zod, he wouldn’t have much time to react before they started acclimating to Earth’s healthy sun. 

His glasses were barely off his nose when he finally heard it, a soft groan- delicate, gentle (as much as a groan could be) and Clark’s heart skipped a beat. She let out another soft sound and Clark finally took off. 

This could be it, the answer he needed so badly. Perhaps it was an elder who could really teach him about his home world, a child who had been lost just like him. But some deep part of his soul, a piece he had locked away a long time ago, wondered if it was someone his age, someone who would be his equal, his partner.

The sands of the Sahara quickly revealed a huge slash through the dunes, darkened by the heat of the ship’s dramatic entry. The ship itself was halfway buried in the sand, its black hull a stark contrast against the bright sand. Clark landed in front of its rounded end. 

Steam curled around the dark metal but he barely had time to appraise the vessel before a mechanical clanging began and the sand around its side started to shift. Clark darted forwards as a panel lifted and the earth around it immediately began to spill inside. He grabbed at the open frame and tugged the ship free just as its occupant became visible.

She was beautiful.

Large curves highlighted by tight spandex-like material, the exact same as his suit. The symbol spread over her generous chest consisted of two overlapping circles, one that he didn’t recognise even after his father’s lessons. Clark felt like he couldn’t even breathe as he looked down at her body, everything about her was captivating, hypnotising, everything he had ever wanted. Her hair was pulled back and away from her face, allowing him to observe every blemish and mark of her skin in extraordinary detail. She was a goddess in its truest sense, an ethereal being in mortal form.

And when she finally opened her eyes, he was met with the most brilliant shade of e/c he had ever seen. Panic briefly flashed across her face before she saw his own house symbol and immediately relaxed, her expression more calm than he thought it should be in this situation.

“I’m Kal-El.” Her eyes sparkled in the strong rays of the sun as a small smile crept onto her face.

“Kal.” She repeated his name back to him in a voice far more pleasant than he had ever heard before. Her lips parted again but suddenly her body rocked forwards, as painful coughs rattled through her lungs. Clark swept her into his arms without thinking and pressed her to his chest. She limply clutched at his back as she continued to cough.

He flinched with each of her laboured inhales, his own chest burning with a rage he couldn’t explain. But what he did know was that no one else could know of her. Only god knew what would happen if any government found out about another Kryptonian, especially a female one. Lois and his mother would try to corrupt her mind, encouraging her to leave him.

He wouldn’t let that happen. He would never let himself be alone again.

He could protect her, mould her. She would be safe. No one would know of her existence, not until she knew who exactly she belonged to, the only person that she would ever be able to trust.

Clark smirked as he cupped her head gently, his thumb tracing the apple of her perfect cheek. Oh yes, she was absolutely perfect.

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pleasseeee I need more for angel brat 🙏🙏🙏 it’s just too funny reading about Danny messing with the batfam

Jason regrets ever agreeing to babysit.

Logically, he knew that leaving Danny alone was a terrible idea. Not only was the little boy suffering from medical conditions, but if he were to discover they had forgotten him, he would zap himself out of the timeline.

Right now, Bruce and the others were working nonstop with the Flashes to try to figure out a way to anchor him to the new timeline they had created. Bart had a general idea of how to best go about this, but he warned everyone that it may be a lost cause.

Still, to keep their angel, everyone agreed to let the time traveler do his thing. Bart explained that he needed to get readings around Wayne Manor first to see if the Speed Force could help them anchor Danny to that location.

Once the anchor was dropped successfully, Danny would be free to move about their world without the fear of vanishing.

Since it was the one place Danny had been in the most in the old timeline and was planning on living in for the unforeseen future, everyone agreed to his idea.

That meant they needed to get Danny out of the Manor for a good amount of time. He couldn't see them working without answering some uncomfortable questions, nor could they just leave him defenseless in Gotham.

Due to Danny's medical conditions, the family had kept him mostly at the manor, but they didn't want to keep him locked up, which meant that there were some rumors about the boy.

The Bats used those rumors to verify that Danny existed before the timeline rest. They also studied them to get to know the boy before meeting him face to face.

It wasn't a lot, but enough to get a general idea of what the populace thought about Danny. It was an even split between people confusing him for Damian or thinking the Waynes were covering him up and not giving the people the explanation they "owed" them.

Jason wanted to know why random strangers on the streets thought they had a right to know their lives and couldn't keep their noses out of Wayne's business, but that might just be his Crime Alley upbringing talking.

There had been a few articles about Danny being seen around Gotham—mostly, the reporters thought it was Damian and speculated what happened to him. Jason noticed that Danny's previous outings seemed to revolve around two things.

Space and antiques.

Why? Jason was unsure but figured it would be the perfect cover to get Danny out. The rest of the family stayed behind to help with the tests.

"This is going to be awesome!" Danny cheered as Jason helped him with his gas tank. The two were standing outside the historical Gotham Museum.

It was a random Tuesday, so they and the staff were the only ones there.

Jason had figured that Danny had a love of history, which meant that he would be happy if Jason promised him a full day of riding around to see every museum the city had to offer.

It was disguised as Jason being bored and a spur-of-the-moment invitation, which was why no one else was free when asked to come along. Danny didn't seem to question it too much, running off to prepare for a fun day filled with historical retellings.

Jason wasn't that into history.

Still, he enjoyed reading enough period-era books to be willing to spend hours on random historical tours with Danny.

Danny was practically glowing as he leaned back and forth on his feet impatiently. He kept swinging his eyes to the building as though he could fly right in.

Jason's lips twitch. "It's going to be fun."

Together, they climb the stairway to the door. The museum is one of the biggest in the city. It has exhibits dating back to before Gotham's discovery, tracing all the urban legends and local myths from then to the present day.

Jason thought Danny would like to hear fascinating stories like Solomon Grundy's origins and the Wayne family's myths. Apparently, Bruce's family has always been a bit...strange.

He just wasn't prepared for Danny, already knowing that little fact about his bloodline.

"Do you think they'll have the Wayne witch burns!?" Danny excitable asks, causing Jason's steps to flatter.

"The what?"

"You know when they tried to burn three of the Wayne sisters in the town square on accounts of witchcraft? I always thought it was funny how the sisters managed to get away by setting the church on fire." Danny giggles, walking over to the lady at the counter. "It's one of my favorite exhibits."

"You've been here before?" Jason asks, entirely unprepared for that. In hindsight, it made sense for Danny to go somewhere of interest to him. Damian has visited the zoo at least thirteen times in his first year!

Danny quirks an eyebrow up at him. "Of course I have. You were the one who brought me here before, remember?"

Oh no.

"Are you sure?" he laughs nervously, looking up at the woman who is paying for two tickets—one adult and one child. She smiles at him sweetly as she stamps their papers—the museum liked to use Gotham's first original train tickets as passes. Danny pulls out his own for a collectible stamp, which makes Jason wince.

"Stop being weird Jason. No matter how much you pretend, I'm not going to let you get out of the photo," Danny tells him with a grin.

The photo?

"Is the booth available, ma'am?" Danny asks the woman with the politest tone he's ever heard a fourteen-year-old use. The woman, a twenty-something that was awfully pretty, smile grows wider.

"It is. What era would you like?"

Danny stops, pressing his thumb against his chin before asking, "What era is Pride and Prejudice set in? "

"It was The Regency period in England, but we knew it as the Federal," Jason responds instantly. "I don't know the exact number of years, though. Why?"

"I just wanted to check if Gotham was around then." Danny peaks up at the woman. "Gotham was founded in sixteen thirty-five, right?"

"Yes, but some argue that the Dutch founded it first, even if they moved on a few years before Captain Jon Logerquist." She says, giving Danny a wink. "That does mean we have Federal period outfits for you boys."

"Yeah!" Danny grabs onto Jason's wrist. "We can dress up as Mr. Darcy like you always wanted, Jay!"

The woman laughs as Jason's face starts to heat up. He has never been embarrassed about his love of classical books. It's the fact his little brother exposed his nerdier side to a girl he thought was sort of attractive.

She probably thought he ran around cosplaying or something.

"I'll go get it ready." She says, throwing her long red hair behind her shoulder.

"Thank you, Marie," Danny tells her, and Jason is even more surprised.

"How do you know her name?" Because Jason had checked. She wasn't wearing a nametag.

Danny looks up at him with far more confusion than before. At once, the outline of his body flickers in and out of sight. Jason's heart almost drops to his knees because, for a second, Danny actually vanishes from sight. "Dude, we've been here so many times before; it would be rude to know not her name at this point. Are you sure you are okay, Jay? Was your last night shift too rough? We can go home if you not feeling well."

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. I just think she's hot so I can't think straight around her," Jason blurts, wanting Danny to stop thinking about it before he is erased right in front of him.

There is a short gasp to his right, and with absolute dread, Jason turns to find Marie standing there, clearly having heard what he said.

No. Danny presses a hand to his mouth, not doing the best of jobs hiding his laughter.

Jason wants to melt onto the floor and die as she shyly informs them the booth is ready. She leads them over to a room with costumes tucked in the corner. A large camera is set up pointing to a lovely blue backdrop and various lights.

She tells them there are more backdrops on the racks, which they can change. She recommends numbers seven and nineteen since they were of old castle gardens, which would work best for Danny's vision of Pride and Prejudice.

The camera was set to send her the photos, and she would develop them when they were done with their resume walkthrough. If they wanted a different era, Marie could always come back and replace the costumes with something fitting.

The Gotham Museum had clothes from various periods that matched their exhibits. Jason is shocked to find they used Bruce's donation money for good use.

Danny is happily flipping through the coat rack, as Marie politely but obviously runs out of the room as fast as possible.

Ouch.

"We should re-do the same posses," Danny chirps, flipping through his phone until he finds a picture of him in a pirate costume, with one leg pressed on the small bench and raising a sword above his head. Next to him, Jason is seen sitting on the ground, one knee prompt up.

He was also wearing a pirate costume and holding a parrot on the tip of his finger resting over his knee.

Jason does not remember taking this photo, but it's clear as day that it's him smirking at the camera from two years ago. That should have been right around the time he first started to calm down from his Pit Madness.

Had he really brought Danny around here since then?

"Sure, kid." Jason cracked, swinging on a nicely done light blue gentlemen's coat that he could easily see Mr. Bingley. "We can react it."

Danny beamed.

They took a few photos, changing into almost all the outfits, because he can admit that he did have a bit of fun doing that before they decided to check out the rest of the museum.

Danny seemed to stop ever so often to ask why something had moved or where something had gone, and Jason needed to quickly distract him. He finds out that Danny may not be the only one erased, for the three Wayne sisters are missing, a giant battle between the British and the townspeople back during the colony days is gone, and the Wayne Manor light post legend is nowhere to be found.

Danny is devastated that they took down the light post, so Jason is quick to ask him to retell the tale. He makes a mental promise to have Bruce throw enough money at the museum to get it back up.

"Legend has it that the old head of the house, "Mad" Anthony Wayne, had fallen in love with a girl far below his family station. Without the approval of their parents, the two lovers were not allowed to wed. But he wasn't known as Mad for nothing." Danny chirps around his oxygen. He needed a moment to rest, so the two sat down and had something to snack on at the Museum's Cafe.

"He hatched a plan where they would meet at the far light post at the edge of the Wayne property every night to be together with only the stars as witnesses. Anothony would slowly pass along to her some wealth of the family that he smuggled out so the two could go and start new lives together. One night, while waiting for his beloved, Anothiny heard a scream from the swamp and raced over, but he was too late. He saw his love being dragged into the waters by something covered in scales and killing her. Some say it was alligators, while others claim it was a monster that roams the earth today. Devastated, Anothony would later marry the wife he had picked up for him by his parents. They say his love still waits under that light post, and if you see her, then she will either bless your love or try to kill you."

Jason blinks. "What makes her choose to bless you?"

"Only true lovers can be blessed. People would go over to our post to test their loves." Danny shrugs. "I wouldn't tempt an obviously violent ghost like that, but that's just me."

The older man nodded, thinking it was a fair thing to say and wondering if he had ever passed by the apparent light post from the myth.

He just forgot about it when the timeline changed.....or she never died thus making it a regular light post. How can he be sure he was missing something if he never knew it was gone?

Ugh, time travel gave him a headache.

"You should ask Marie to go stand under it with you," Danny grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jason sighs. "She's not even interested."

"Sure she is! Look, I'll prove it." Danny swung himself from his chair and marched to the greeting counter. Much to Jason's horror, his baby brother chats with her, twisting around to point at Jason and watching Marie's face turn bright red.

Jason grabs a menu and hides behind it mentally, telling himself this would be the last time he ever stepped foot in this museum again. Danny races back, clutching a piece of paper with a phone number. "She told me to tell you to call her,"

Jason's jaw drops. "What?"

"Here," Danny pressed the paper in his hand, and on it was a number with a heart. "She said she was tired of waiting for you to make a first move. You're welcome."

"How did you do this?"

"Please, if I could get Kori to give Dick a chance, I can get anyone to agree on a date." Danny boasted, puffing up his chest in pride. You can call me Cupid Wayne! I mean, how else do you think Cass and Steph got together? "

Jason wondered what else he had forgotten about Danny. Mystified, he wondered if Cass or Steph knew they were dating. Apparently, Danny had gotten them together, and he hadn't seen them act couple-ly since they found Danny making himself a sandwich.

Somewhere, Cass screams as Damian tells her the plan his brother hatched to help her with her crush. This was not the deal, boy! This was supposed to be funny!

Cass ain't laugh!

[adrienneleclerc]

Missing Journal

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles reads Y/N’s journal and finds out she has a crush on an F1 driver.

Warning: the usual spellings and grammatical errors, inaccuracies of pretty much anything involving F1

A/N: kinda based off season 1 episode 3 of Austin and Ally. However, instead of reading the journal about Y/N’s crush and thinking it’s about him when it’s actually someone else, Charles would read it and think it’s about someone else when in reality it’s about him. Does that’s make sense? Cool. Also, i always put Hispanic/Latina because I don't know what you prefer to be called and because this does exclude Spain, Haiti, Brazil, and other Latin American countries that don't speak Spanish.

Y/N and Charles have been friends for a long time, but so have Y/N and Lando. Y/N moved from the states to Monaco and became neighbors with Charles, ultimately becoming friends, but she also participated in Junior Karting with Lando, befriending Lando and Max Fewtrell.

It is safe to say Y/N has been friends with the three of them for a very long time and she is so grateful because she always felt like she didn't belong since she isn't European like them. But she has Logan as well, even if they aren't super close. She splits time between Charles and Lando. If Lando thinks McLaren is going to do soemthing interesting, he invites Y/N to Woking. Something interesting happening at Ferrari? Charles is bringing Y/N to Maranello. Y/N loves travelling (the Sagittarius in me) so it works out perfectly.

One day, Y/N's apartment was flooded because of poor plumbing and Charles offered her a place to stay. When her apartment was clear, both of them decided it was better if they were roommates since she was the better cook and that brings us to today.

Y/N was sleeping in her room peacefully when she felt someone shake her awake and she saw Charles standing over her.

"If you are going to kill me, can i at least eat first?" Y/N asked sleepily.

"Y/N, wake up, they changed our flight to Imola." Charles said and Y/N sat up in her bed.

"What do you mean they changed our flight? Don't we fly priavte?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, but Fred wants us to be in Imola earlier so we have more time to go over strategies so get dressed, sweetie, we need to go to the runway." Charles said. Y/N's heart fluttered at Charles's nickname for her. She tries to think nothing of it because he is a Libra after all, he is very affectionate towards her and Carlos as well. She got out of bed.

"Okay fine, but get out." Y/N said, pushing Charles out of her room to get dressed. She packed a dufflebag with 5/6 outfits, pajamas, anything she really needed for a 5 or 6 day trip more or less.

"Whatever you say, love, I'll buy us something to eat on the way there." Charles said outside her door. The last thing Y/N packed was her journal, she likes writing down everything about her travels since she writes travel articles for Hello Monaco (don't know if there is a traveling section, lets pretend). But she also writes about her love life or lackthereof. Y/N washed her face and got dressed in her comfortable clothes. When she left her room, she sw Charles on the couch with his small luggage.

"Alright, lets go. Are we stopping by the bakery?" Y/N asked.

"Of course. I'll wait outside while you order the pastries, I'll give you money." Charles said.

"Thanks, lets go." They left the apartment and got into Charles's car. Charles parked outside the bakery and Y/N got out of the car, ordered pastries, getting herself a warm cookie croissant (THEY ARE SO GOOD, my mom needs to buy more from the market) and whatever Charles gets. She gets back in the car and Charles starts driving away.

"Can you feed me, honey?" Charles asked. Y/N broke off a piece of the pain au chocolat and fed it to Charles, his tongue and lips touching her two fingers holding the piece of pastry. She felt butterflies in her stomach and decided to just hold the oain au chocolat and have him bite it but... "No, no, i can't drive like that, just feed me like you did before." Charles said and thats exactly what Y/N did.

Now of course Charles knew it wasn't necessary for Y/N to feed him like that, but he loves the intimacy of this gesture. So having her feed him like they were boyfriend and girlfriend even though they are not was great thing in Charles's book. Especially considering his feelings for the Hispanic/Latina queen by his side. Y/N finished feeding Charles the pastry and licked her fingers that were covered in chocolate because no one wastes chocolate here. They were playing music in his car, just vibing, singing along, Y/N finished her cookie croissant, and they were just talking until they made it to the airport runway where their private jet was, with Carlos waiting by the jet.

"Por fin! Por qué se demoraron tanto?" Carlos asked.

"Güey, relájate, teníamos hambre, queríamos comer en el camino." Y/N said, getting her dufflebug out of Charles's car, Charles gets his suitcase out too.

"I don't like it when you call me güey." Carlos said.

"I picked up Mexican slang from Pato that time he was in Woking with Lando. I miss Pato, i gotta text him." Y/N said, entering the jet with Charles and Carlos trailing behind. She sits down. "I'll never get used to this, I grew up lower middle class."

"Well your friends are F1 drivers and we invite you everywhere." Charles said.

"And I thank you for that, honestly. My boss loves my hotel reviews, thanks for paying for my room by the way." Y/N said.

"Of course, it's no big deal." Charles said.

"What i don't get is why we have to fly if the drive is just 5 and a half hours." Y/N said.

"But by plane it is an hour." Carlos said. "That mean we have more time to relax, work on strategies, go clubbing." Carlos says.

"We are not clubbing before media day." Charles warned him.

"Fine, que pesado." Carlos said and Y/N giggled.

The flight itself was bearable, Y/N fell asleep and Charles was watching her with a smile on his face.

"You should tell her you like her, mate. Because this" Carlos says gesturing to what Charles was doing. "Its getting creepy and concerning."

"When the moment is right i will tell her." Charles said.

"Okay then." Carlos said, putting his headphones.

When the jet landed, a chauffer took them from the airport to their hotel. When they arrived at the hotel lobby, Y/N saw Lando and Oscar on the couch, Lando was on his phone while Oscar talked to Logan.

"Lando!" Y/N shouted, running to where Lando was.

"Y/N!" Lando exclaimed, standing up from the couch to hug his best girl friend. "How was your flight? Are you hungry?"

"Nah, I'm fine, I had a cookie croissant before the flight so i should be good." Y/N said.

"Nonsense, you should have a proper breakfast. Osc, you wanna go out for breakfast?" Lando asked the Australian.

"Yeah sure." Oscar said. "Lets get our keys and we'll head out." As soon as everyone got their keys, they went to their rooms which are all on the same floor, WAGS obviously roomed with their partners, Y/N had her own room and she place her dufflebag there. She knocked on Lando's door and he opened up.

"Should i change." Y/N asked.

"Nah, you're fine. You ready to go Osc?" Lando asked Oscar, who was talking to Logan

"Yeah, lets go, catch you later, Logan." Oscar said goodbye.

"I'll talk to you later my fellow American!" Y/N exclaimed as she left with Lando and Oscar. Charles was observing their interaction.

"Jealous?" Carlos asked right behind Charles startling him.

"You scared me, mate. But i am not jealous." Charles said.

"You might want to unclench your fist then." Carlos tapped on Charles's fist and he releases.

On their free day, Y/N was writing down the name of the restaurant/cafe they went to, reviewed the food, the atmosphere, how much the food was.

"Y/N, do you have to review everything?" Lando asked.

"Yes, how was your food?" Y/N asked.

"It was good." Lando said.

"Do you think it is worth the price?" Y/N asked.

"I say yes but I think if you were wokring class, definitely not." Lando said.

"Thank you. What about you, Osc?" Y/N asked.

"I mean I've had better in Monza, but its still good." Oscar replied and Y/N wrote it down.

"You gentlemen have been great help." Y/N said.

"Will you be in the Ferrari hospitality this time or will you be coming over to McLaren?" Lando asked.

"I can't say yet. I'll probably arrive at the paddock with Charles, hang around his hospitality halfway during the break inbetween free practices and then go over to you before the second free parctice starts." Y/N said.

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan. You coming to media day or are you going to be sightseeing?" Oscar asked.

"The hospitality gives me free food so I'm going to media day because i don't like sightseeing by myself." Y/N said.

"You just want me to pay." Lando said.

"You have the money to pay for me! I don't see the problem." Y/N said.

"She’s been like this since I joined F1.” Lando told Oscar.

“I do the same with Charles, don’t start.” Y/N said.

(This scene was written before I found out what happened in Imola)

It was media day and Y/N was repping McLaren at the paddock, it made Charles feel a certain way.

“Stopping staring.” Carlos said.

“I can’t help it, they’re acting like a couple and I don’t like it.” Charles said.

“At least she’s not wearing his number.” Carlos tried to cheer him up, Charles was going to answer him when Y/N came up to him.

“Have you guys seen my journal?” Y/N asked.

“How does it look like?” Charles asked.

“It’s a mini blue notebook with my name in rhinestones, my friend decorated it for me.” Y/N said,

“We haven’t seen it, love.” Charles said.

“Fuck, what am I going to do?” Y/N asked worriedly.

“Relax, it’s just a book.” Carlos said.

“It is NOT just a book, it is my diary and work journal all rolled into one, i write ALL my personal stuff in there, if anyone else reads it, I WILL DIE.” Y/N said.

“Maybe you should start taking notes on your phone.” Carlos said.

“Like I’m going to listen to a colonizer.” Y/N snapped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it. I mean you do come from colonizers but i should call you that, it’s not your fault.”

“Ya relájate. We’ll look for it.” Carlos said.

“Thank you! I was basically in every hospitality today so I gotta ask around.” Y/N mentioned.

“Why were you in every hospitality?” Charles asked.

“Well i run an F1 TikTok account too so I was just hospitalities. I hope no one has read it.” Y/N said before running off.

“Do you think she’s overreacting?” Carlos asked.

“Her mom said she was born a drama Queen.” Charles said shrugging. “I’m gonna go talk with Max.” Charles said, leaving Carlos, Charles entered the Red Bull hospitality.

“Hey Charles, where’s Y/N? I found her notebook.” Max said,

“That’s great! Where did you find it?” Charles asked.

“She left it on the couch when she was talking to Checo. Do you know why she was going mental about this?” Max asked, giving the notebook to Charles.

“Apparently there’s a lot of personal stuff written in here.” Charles said and that’s when he got an idea.

“No.” Max said immediately.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” Charles said.

“You are not reading it.” Max said.

“Why not?” Charles asked.

“Because Y/N would probably murder you.” Max said.

“What Y/N doesn’t know, won’t kill me.” Charles said opening Y/N's journal.

"You act as if you were married. Well, what does it say?" Max asked, looking over Charles's shoulder to read what it says.

"Apparently Y/N has a crush on someone on the grid." Charles says. He kept reading. "And that guy is not me, looks like she has a crush on Lando." Charles sighed, closing the book.

"I haven't finished reading it." Max says, taking Y/N's journal to keep reading. "Okay, she could be talking about anyone, it doesn't necessarily mean she likes Lando." Max said, reading over the journal entry.

"Really? 'We've known each other since we were kids', Lando and Y/N have done karting together. 'I could easily get lost in his eyes, his accent is adorable, we spend so much time together and the gestures he does with me are so intimate, it's almost as if we are already togther but we are not', who else could it be, Max?" Charles asked.

"Okay well everyone on the grid has an accent to Y/N except of Logan. I have seen Lando lead Y/N places with his hand on her lower back. Maybe you are right, Y/N has a crush on Lando." Max said.

"Oh well, I lost my chance, let me just give Y/N her journal, I'll see tomorrow before free practice." Charles said.

"I thought we were going to play videoames later tonight." Max said.

"Not anymore mate, I have to talk to Pierre and pout about losing the love of my life to a child." Charles said.

"He's only 2 years younger than you." Max said.

"He is a child!" Charles shouted before leaving the Red Bull hospitality with Y/N's journal in hand. We was walking around the paddock when he spotted Y/N on the phone.

"Si mami, estoy comiendo bien, te lo juro. Mami, luego te marco, mi amigo Charles quiere hablar conmigo, te quiero mucho, bye." Y/N hung up the phone and put it in her bag. "What's up?"

"Oh I found your journal." Charles handed Y/N the journal and she took it happily.

"Thank you so much, you're the best, where did you find it?" Y/N asked.

"Oh in Red Bull, Max found it on the couch." Charles said.

"I'll thank him when i see him. Are you doing anything tonight? I wanted to visit the Aryton Senna statue and since I know you're a fan.." Y/N was cut off by Charles

"Sorry, I'll be with Pierre since Kika couldn't come." Charles said

"Oh, well maybe after free practice tomorrow?" Y/N asked hopefully.

"I don't think so, I'll talk to you tomorrow, Y/N." Charles said leaving Y/N in the paddock and she walked to the McLaren hospitality where Lando and Oscar were playing Uno with some of the mechanics.

"Hey, Y/N, when we finish this round, we'll leave." Lando said.

"Yeah, thats fine." Y/N said and she sat on the couch. Once the game was over, Lando drove her back to the hotel.

"Did you find your journal?" Lando asked.

"I did, Charles and Max found it." Y/N said.

"Then how come you don't sound thrilled that you have your journal back?" Lando asked.

"Because Charles was acting weird, like he said he didn't want to see the Aryton Senna statue." Y/N said.

"But Leclerc is a big fan of him." Lando commented.

"Thats what i said!" Y/N exclaimed.

"Leave him, maybe tomorrow will be better." Lando commented.

Unfortunately, that was not the case, her Friday and Saturday were spent in the McLaren hospitality, she was now watching qualifying on the TV (Q3) and she saw something awful happen, Lando and Charles were fighting for P3, their wheels were touching and everything and it got so bad that now Charles’s front wing and Lando’s rear wing were damaged when Q3 finished. Y/N ran to Lando’s garage to see what happened.

“Bro, what the hell were you two doing?” Y/N asked.

“You should be asking that to Leclerc, I don’t know what is wrong with him, he’s been on my tail for all of quali.” Lando said.

“Don’t worry, I will.” Y/N said storming the Ferrari hospitality and she spotted Carlos. “Cabrón, where’s the other cabrón?”

“He’s in the driver room.” Carlos answered and Y/N bursted into the driver room, Charles was shirtless.

“What the hell, Y/N?!?” Charles asked, putting his shirt back on and Y/N locks the door.

“We need to talk.” Y/N said.

“There is nothing to talk about.” Charles said.

“The hell there is! You’ve been acting weird since Thursday, you haven’t invited me to the Ferrari hospitality, you didn’t want to come with me to see the Aryton Senna statue, it’s like you changed when…” that’s when Y/N realizes what must have happened. “You read my journal!” Y/N yelled, she picked up a pillow and started hitting him. “How fucking dare you!”

“How dare I? How dare you?” Charles asked, blocking her hits.

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked, halting her action,

“You heard me! I Can’t believe you like Lando. Lando? He is so immature!” Charles shouted.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Y/N asked.

“Your journal entry! ‘we spend so much time together and the gestures he does with me are so intimate, it's almost as if we are already togther but we are not’, you spend so much time with Lando, who else could you be writing about?” Charles asked and Y/N just stared at him.

“Mas menso no puedes ser! It’s you, Charles! I like you, you ridiculously oblivious moron!” Y/N exclaimed and now it was Charles’s turn to stare.

“You like me?” Charles asked shyly.

“I love you! We were neighbors, we are roommates, we spend so much time together that I developed feelings for you. Now please say something.” Y/N said,

“I like you too. When I thought you liked Lando i went crazy.” Charles admitted.

“That’s why you were acting like that in quali! Lando was kinda mad,” Y/N said,

“Yeah, sorry about that. But now that I know you like me…you coming to the Ferrari hospitality?” Charles asked.

“Of course I will.” Y/N said.

It was the Grand Prix and Y/N was in the garage with the red headphones one watching from the monitors.

It was a tough race but Charles made P1 and Y/N couldn’t be any prouder. When Charles “parked” the car at his spot, he saw Y/N standing with Free and the rest of the team so he got out from the car and kissed Y/N. They pulled away and smiled.

“Sorry, I got caught up in the moment.” Charles said, laughing.

“Does this mean we’re dating.” Y/N asked all giggly after her first kiss with Charles.

“Of course we’re dating, Mon ange. You are my girl, and now we are paddock official.” Charles said.

“So when are you taking me out on our first date?” Y/N asked.

“As soon as I’m done with the post race interview.” Charles said, kissing her one last time.

The End

It took forever to write but I hope y’all like it, thanks for your patience!

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 27]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.4k

ao3 link

Police Arrest Three After Mass Protests in LA County

By C. Grant

Three people were arrested in Pasadena, California yesterday after a crowd gathered to protest the death of Sheila Pom. Police say the three individuals, whose names have not yet been released, appeared to be Enhanceds attempting to agitate the crowd. Witnesses claim one of the individuals was creating sparks with their fingers and threatening to start a fire, while the two others encouraged the behavior. Police have made no comment about these arrests and all questions about the incident have been redirected to a now defunct phone number. 

Sheila Pom was killed in an officer-related shooting two weeks ago after neighbors reported her as a Dangerous Individual under the new Sokovia Accords Act. Pom, 23, worked at her uncle’s auto body shop as a mechanic while also attending online classes to get a degree in Engineering. She was also a telekinetic - someone who can move objects with their mind. 

Pom was known to not be shy about her gifts. Pom was seen frequently lifting cars and trucks within garages without the help of equipment and is rumored to have once righted a tipped over semi-truck. Neighbors became concerned when Pom began using her gifts at home.

“We’d come home, and things would be floating up and down the street,” one neighbor said.

Another claimed Pom was unstable, and when she would become upset, things around her would begin to shake.

“I thought it was an earthquake until my TV hit the ceiling,” a source who lived in the same building Pom told GKTV, “I learned the next day her boyfriend broke up with her.”

Officers were called when Pom refused to return a motorcycle to the ground while working on it in a residential neighborhood. After a brief standoff, officers fired two shots, striking Pom in the head, and killing her. 

Pom’s family claims she was unaware of the officer’s presence, as wireless earbuds were found near her body after. Pom was known to listen to music to block the noise of machines. 

Protests began after the officers involved in the incident were cleared of any wrongdoing. 

----

A full-page ad takes over your screen, and instead of continuing to read the depressing article, you close the tab.

There has been a palpable unrest in the news cycle the past week that is starting to leave you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You’ve noticed a shift in the general narrative tone and terminology used when discussing people who have superpowers. 

Before Sokovia, before Lagos, before Connecticut, the morning shows would bring on people with amazing gifts and gently joke about them joining the Avengers as they made water fly around the set, but now those same hosts debate if they should be allowed to have the right to privacy. ‘Enhanced Peoples’ has been shortened to just Enhanceds and is now spit out like it is something dirty. 

You don’t know when the conversation stopped centering around heroes and vigilantes and started being about everyday people, but it scares you that the change happened. There seems to be no official power scale about what is deemed ‘dangerous’ and your mind keeps zipping all over the place trying to justify different lines of thinking.

Does Matt fall under the category of Dangerous? 

He is a vigilante, so by default the Accords are directed at him, but is it doubly so? If he was forced to reveal himself to the government, would they require him to wear a tracking device? Or would they try to lock him up?

Could he fight it in court, or would they whisk him away in the middle of the night and you’d never know what happened?

If Matt is deemed Dangerous because of his senses, and not just because he is a vigilante, would Minnie be considered the same?

With how intense and angry everyone is becoming you could see yourself having to take her in to be tested.

To be monitored. 

And she is just a baby. 

You can’t imagine how others must feel - people who are older, who are just trying to live their lives. The girl who was killed was just trying to fix her bike, like millions of other people do every weekend. She wasn’t going to other countries to fight terrorists. She wasn’t trying to use her powers to rule over others. She wasn’t hurting anyone.

But she was different, so they killed her.

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! I need help!”

You’re ripped from your spiraling thoughts and look across the room to where Minnie is sprawled out on the floor. Her Starkpad is in front of her, and she’s set up Pig and Scooby so they are also peering down at the device and you know exactly what she is doing.

It is the same thing she has been doing for a week straight - playing a bootleg Muppet’s math game. 

Since meeting Spider-man, all your little Mouse has wanted to do is learn math. She keeps saying she wants to impress him and make him proud, and you are in no way going to discourage her. Every day has been filled with counting and addition and subtraction and you are a bit amazed she has stayed so focused. 

You are not going to complain at all about it - you are getting time to yourself while she has been glued to Elmo and Kermit. 

You leave your phone on the dining table and head towards your daughter.

“You need help?” you confirm as you crouch beside her. The screen shows a Muppet you don’t recognize, along with various numbers floating around them, and up at the top, the equation that has your little Mouse stumped. 

“I need help!” Minnie repeats as she scrambles up off her belly and into sitting. “I don’t have enough fingers!” 

She holds up both her hands to show you all ten of her itty-bitty fingers and you make a sympathetic noise. 

Mouse has been getting pretty good at using her fingers to help her with addition and subtraction, but on only one hand. She uses the index finger on her right hand to help count by pointing at each finger and hasn’t quite worked out she can use her fingers to point and count. That is okay, though, as you are happy to lend yours to her important cause. 

“Okay, how many fingers do you need?”

You hold out your hands and she instantly begins to manipulate them. 

“This one…this one needs three! One, two, three!” She pushes your thumb and index finger down so the other three remain up, then she pushes down the pinky of the other hand. “And this one is four!”

“So, three and four? What are we doing with three and four?” You ask, trying to not laugh at her determined face.

“We adds them!” She chirps, before starting to jab at your fingers, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! That’s seven fingers! Mommy, it’s seven! Three plus four is seven!” 

“That’s right, it is seven. Which number is seven?” You direct her back to her game, where she triumphantly picks the correct symbol. The Muppet congratulates her before presenting a new equation. 

Minnie squeals in delight before ripping the device off the ground and shoving it in your face, “I know this one! Mommy! I know this one! It’s three! Mommy! It’s three!” 

You can’t even process what the question is before the screen is out of sight. Your daughter holds her Starkpad above her head, treating it like some war prize as she starts spinning and dancing around the living room. 

“It’s three! It’s three! It’s three!” 

You laugh at her antics, heartwarming at her pureness. How could anyone ever think she’s a danger?

“Are you sure it’s three?” You tease as you watch her. 

She whips around to you, eyes scrunching up into a glare, and barks, “It’s three!”

“Okay, okay, it’s three.”

You push yourself up into standing just as Mouse returns to her spot. She drops her Starkpad to the ground a little harder than you would prefer, but that is why it has a big bulky case. She plops down in front of it and happily smacks the number three that is floating around the screen.

You let yourself watch her for a few seconds, silently bombarding her with all the love you feel for her. You want to wrap her up and live in this bubble forever.

Except, there is one element missing from your perfect moment. You wish there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and a chin on your shoulder. You want to lean back against a muscular chest and lose yourself to eternity like that. 

Instead of indulging those thoughts, you tell yourself to stop fantasizing and you make your way back to the kitchen to check on dinner.

Vegetable curry has been simmering on the stove for most of the day. It has been a while since you had the energy to make the dish from scratch, but you had a craving this morning and went all out. You’ve made curry for Minnie before, and she did not complain - though you think that is because her portion was mostly rice and hot dog cuts. You plan to do the same again tonight, and if she wants more sauce, you’ll give it to her. 

You check your seasonings and give everything a stir to make sure nothing gets stuck at the bottom of the pot. The rich aroma tickles your nose, and you are glad you don’t have to wait much longer to treat yourself.

As you debate adding a pinch more salt, you catch Minnie sneaking towards you out of the corner of your eye. Her movements are slow and dramatic, and you pretend you don’t notice her. This ruse works, and you appropriately jump in fear when she suddenly tugs on your shirt.

“Up!” She demands and you oblige, scooping your daughter onto your hip. As soon as she is high enough, she cups her hands around your ear and leans into whisper, “Daddy saids the food smells yummy-yummy.”

She quickly dissolves into giggles, and it is infectious, so you end up smiling. 

Matt hasn’t been over for dinner in a hot minute, and you are hoping to have a nice quiet family night, before he goes out on his Patrol. The plan is to watch a movie after your meal and Minnie has already prepared for this by dragging multiple blankets out to the couch. You just know she is going to demand a cuddle pile, and now that you and Matt are intimate, it isn’t something you are nervous about. 

You just want to have a good time.

“Can you tell Daddy everything is almost ready?” you ask, even though you know Matt can probably hear you just fine. 

Mouse, always eager to be helpful, nods and relays the message directly into your ear. You try to not grimace, and so it won’t happen again, set her down on the ground. 

“Can you plug in your Starkpad so it can sleep for the night?” 

She streaks off to do her newly assigned task, leaving you to start setting the table. When you were at the store, you bought Matt a bottle of beer - a brand you know he likes - and you set it at his designated spot. You’ve grown accustomed to just drinking water and juice, but you don’t want to push that on to him - not when he’s a guest and coming over after a long day of work. 

As you start to make everyone’s plates, you hear the water in the bathroom turn on. You know Minnie knows the routine for getting ready for dinner and you just hope she isn’t trying to wash Scooby’s paws again. You are worried he’ll end up moldy and you aren’t sure what you will do if that happens. You peek into the living room and are relieved to see your daughter’s best friends have been relocated to sitting on the coffee table, facing the television. 

You finish setting everything up just in time, it seems. Minnie runs from the hallway right to the door as you go to wash your own hands, and you rush to get all the soap off so you can help her open the door. 

Matt is standing on the other side, looking handsome as ever in a gray suit. He looks like he’s had a busy day - his hair is windswept, and he is sporting a strong five o’clock shadow. There is a garment bag draped over his arm and his saddle bag looks a little bulkier than usual and you wonder if he ran some errands on his lunch - picking up his dry cleaning and such. 

You barely have time to take in his appearance before Mouse is launching herself at him.

“Daddy!” She shrieks and Matt oh so easily swings her up onto his hip. “Daddy! We’re having vege-tuhble kermies for dinner! I helped make it! I cut up ALL the carrots! By myself!”

“By yourself, huh?” Matt confirms, a bright, warm smile taking up his entire face. “Soon you’ll be making us dinner.”

You step aside so he can come in and help to take his things to hang while Mouse soaks up his attention. 

“No! Mommy makes dinner because…’cause she makes the bestest foods. I just help!”

“You are a very good helper,” you interject, “You keep a very clean workstation. A professional chef would be proud.”

Minnie beams at the praise, then a microsecond later, is wiggling in to be let down. Her feet hit the ground and she takes off running back toward the living room, probably to collect something to show off to her Daddy. 

Matt takes the small break to turn his attention to you. A hand goes to your cheek, and instead of a brief ‘hello’ peck, he kisses you like he wants to turn and pin you to the wall. It catches you off guard, but you easily melt into it. You clutch at the lapel of his suit jacket and try to not moan as he nips at your lips. You open your mouth for him, but being the tease he is, he pulls back just enough to whisper against you.

“Been thinking about that all day.” 

The words send your blood rushing - some north to your cheeks and the rest to your cunt. 

He’d been thinking about you? About wanting to kiss you? Or has he been thinking about more than that - because you must admit, you’ve been thinking about it. You’ve had more than a few thoughts about what you want to do to him the next time you two are alone together and those thoughts were certainly very explicit. 

“Matt…” you totally do not whine out but instead of replying, his grin just turns cocky. He pulls away as Minnie returns to the entryway, and you decide you need a drink of your water. You escape and Mouse starts showing off her latest masterpieces to Matt. 

Food coloring, cotton balls, and popsicle sticks have proven to be a massive hit and Minnie has made a whole collection of things for Matt - there’s butterflies and flowers, a house with clouds, and various abstract pieces. You are sure his office is already filled to the brim with his daughter’s art, and you would not be surprised if he started to hang things from the ceiling when he does run out of room. He seems to treasure every little thing Minnie has given him and it warms your heart so much. You hope that love never runs out. 

Somehow, Matt ushers Minnie back to the dining room while she shoves different papers into his hands and gets her up in her booster seat. 

“I’m going to put all these in my bag, so they don’t get dirty or lost, okay?” He tells Minnie, who nods way too enthusiastically. 

“Keep them clean!”  And then, just like that, she switches from being excited her Daddy is there to being a hungry toddler. She whips around to face you and asks in an almost impatient manner, “Can I has my hot dogs now?”

You give her the go ahead as Matt returns to the table and takes his place. You quickly tell him the placement of everything, including his beer, then quickly add, “If you don’t like it, I have a few different things I could make you. Or we could order something.”

A brief panic runs through you when Matt scoffs. You think you’ve insulted him - having him come all the way to Chelsea to eat a dinner he won’t enjoy and having to find a substitute. 

“I love curry and this smells delicious. I wouldn’t trade it for the world - in fact, I’m hoping some of those leftovers on the stove are for me to take home and lord over Fog tomorrow.”

You flush at his sweetness and mumble out you’ll pack him some to go. This seems to please him, and he starts to dig in. Ever the little parrot, Minnie mimics him by shoveling food into her mouth with a big grin and you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“It’s nummy!” Your little one declares, and even if she’s just eating plain rice right now, you’ll take it as a win. You know well she won’t eat what she doesn’t like.

“Speaking of yummy,” Matt starts, slow and deliberate, with his head angled towards you, “I was hoping we could go somewhere yummy together.”

You blink slowly at the statement, rolling it over in your mind and trying to dissect the meaning. Did he want to go somewhere for dessert? Maybe get ice cream or something? “Somewhere yummy…?” 

“Mhm,” he hums, then his smile becomes a bit more sly. Even though you know it isn’t true, you feel like, behind his glasses, he is hungrily looking you up and down, “Somewhere like Uvas.”

The name doesn’t automatically generate anything for you, but after a moment, it dawns on you. Uvas in a Spanish restaurant near Central Park known to be high end and impossible to get into. It’s been in the local tabloids a few times for turning away minor celebrities who don’t meet the dress code. You’re mouth parts slightly in shock.

“What’s Oo-vuhas?” Minnie asks around her fork, her big eyes looking between you and Matt. “Do theys has yummy foods?”

“Oh, they have yummy food,” Matt teases. He then leans forward a bit in his seat and stage whispers to her, “It’s where I want to take Mommy for a date.”

“A date?” Minnie scrunches up her face at the word while your mind is still spinning. 

Matt wants to take you on a date? To Uvas? You have never been anywhere that fancy or expensive as a date. Hell, you’ve never been somewhere that fancy, period. The nicest date you’ve ever been on was Hard Rock Cafe - which says a lot about your dating life.

“A date,” Matt confirms, smug and knowingly scheming. You can hear it in his voice as he tells Minnie, “That is where Mommy and Daddy go and have dinner together as grown-ups.”

Up goes Minnie’s hand into her mouth, but it stays there only a split second. Her eyes get impossibly bigger and filled with wonder, and she whispers, “Like Lady and Tramp?”

“Exactly like Lady and Tramp.”

“Mommy!” Minnie says a little too loudly, pointing her fork at you. “You gotta go to Oo-vuhas and be Lady and Tramp! You gotta!”

And at that moment you know you can’t say no, and that Matt knows that. You can’t tell your daughter you don’t want to be like Lady and Tramp. Not that you don’t want to go on a date with Matt - the idea gets you giddy and makes your stomach flutter - but you thought if it happened, it would be a coffee or something. Not somewhere where you can’t even afford to look at the building. The idea makes you a little nauseous, because you are sure you’d make an absolute fool of yourself.

But Matt looks determined and sure of himself. You are certain he asked in front of Minnie so that she could help bully you into saying yes to such a lavish date. 

Luckily, your mind is working in overdrive, and you choke out, “I don’t have anything to wear. They have a dress code, don’t they?”

You don’t expect Matt to push his chair out and get up. Your throat instantly tightens up and fear shoots up your spine. Have you offended him? He clearly wants to do something with you and you’re over here hesitating. You must be coming off as a complete bitch. 

You start to stand up yourself as Matt disappears into the entryway. You don’t think he’d just leave without saying goodbye to Minnie.

Maybe you can talk to him - explain that somewhere a little less grand would be ideal to start.

Before you can start to follow him, Matt is coming back to the table, holding up the garment bag he brought with him, still looking like the cat that got the canary. 

“I thought you might say that,” he starts, his voice almost a little musical, “so I got you this.” 

You stare dumbly at him, shock and confusion overtaking your system. 

He got you something to wear? To Uvas? 

No one has ever bought you clothes before - except your parents. Even when you were pregnant, the small amount of gifts you got were all for Minnie. 

You distantly hear Minnie start saying something about presents, but it is all muffled under the sound of blood pumping through your ears. You step forward hesitantly and reach out for the zipper of the bag, your hand shaking slightly.

You expect it to be a joke. You’re going to open the bag and there’s going to be a clown costume inside, or a skimpy dress people like arm candy to wear, or something akin to a Burka. 

You don’t expect a black floor length sheath gown. The silhouette is simple, but you can tell just by looking at it the quality of the dress is top notch. The fabric has a nice weight to it, and it is incredibly soft to the touch that you have the distinct feeling that it did not come from a dress warehouse or a department store. 

This type of dress would come from a boutique uptown and would cost a few hundred dollars. 

You are so caught up in admiring the dress, you don’t notice Minnie come up beside you until she is also touching the dress. Panic that she might have crumbs or curry on her fingers runs through you, but you force it down.

“It’s like a princess dress for Mommy!” Mouse cooes and you feel your face start to heat up.

You’ve never worn something so nice before and certainly nothing that would be fit for a princess, but it seems like Matt and Minnie are on the same page.

“Well, I want Mommy to feel like a princess.” 

You want to hide your face, but you know you can’t, so you cover your mouth instead.

“Matt, this is beautiful. But this is so much, I can’t accept this.” 

You know that while Matt is a lawyer, he’s still struggling a bit financially. If he had his way, you know he wouldn’t charge anyone for his services, and even though Nelson, Murdock, and Page has paying customers, they still have to stagger out their bills. 

He shouldn’t be spending his hard saved money on you. 

Matt sighs your name before gently draping the garment bag over the back of his dining chair and stepping towards you. Both his hands go to your waist, and you freeze up as he steps close enough to press his forehead to yours. Your heart begins to wildly beat when his hands slowly begin to rub your sides. 

“Let me spoil you. To make up for all the dates I’ve missed. Please?” His lips dip into a small frown and you feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. 

He’s gone out of his way for you, and you are being so ungrateful. 

But it is so hard to say yes. Guilt is pooling in your stomach, and you just want to disappear into the shadows and be forgotten about. That is so much easier than Matt holding you, saying such sweet things.

You don’t want to ruin everything. 

You close your eyes as you have a war inside yourself. All you have to say is ‘Yes’ and you’ll make Matt happy, but the monster inside of you keeps dragging your mind into a pit. 

Matt wants to treat you like a princess, but how crushing will it be when he decides that is no longer the case? Can you take that?

The corners of your eyes start to sting and your monster starts to mock you for getting worked up over something as simple as being asked on a date. 

Why can’t you be normal?

Why can’t you accept this?

Why can’t -

The thoughts cease as Matt’s lips press against yours, soft and sweet and tempting. You respond hesitantly.

“Let me take care of you,” he breathes into your mouth, making you shudder. “You deserve it.” 

“You deserve it!” Minnie chirps from beside your knees and you very suddenly remember where you are and what you were doing. You try to pull away from Matt, thinking Minnie hasn’t seen the two of you like this yet, and it might confuse her, but he keeps his hands firmly planted on your hips, not letting you go. You don’t try to fight it, instead, you turn your head away, trying to hide away in your shell. 

You know there is no way you will win this. Matt is determined and he clearly has Minnie on his side, so, very hesitantly, and feeling like you are going to throw up at any moment, you nod into Matt’s shoulder.

“Okay.”

Mouse lets out a deafening cheer and you feel her dart away.

“LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP!”

Matt laughs at her excitement over something she doesn’t understand, while you tuck yourself into his hold, wondering how long you have before he ends up shattering your heart into pieces.

---

tags:

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

@Specialagentjackbauer  @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal 

 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl @waywardxrhea 

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

[rcmclachlan]

RC, PLEASE share more BuckTommy headcanons with us, everything you’ve said about them so far has been glorious.

Headcanon 1:

After Buck calls Tommy about touring Harbor and they agree on a date and time, he starts researching. Every free second he has between calls is spent watching videos that walk through what all the switches and gauges on a helicopter control panel do. On his days off, he reads pages and pages of posts on r/flying. There are no less than eight biographies about pilots on his kitchen counter dressed in the colorful fringe of all his page markers at any given moment. He devours Chickenhawk in one evening, then falls down a Wikipedia rabbit hole that starts with the article on the Bell UH-1 Iroquois and spits him out when he finishes reading about a municipality in Baku, Azerbaijan called Bibiheybət just as the sun starts peeking through the windows.

The night before he's supposed to meet Tommy, he takes a practice PPL exam for shits and giggles. He doesn't pass, of course, but he scores better than he expected to, and he can't wait to tell Tommy. He can't wait to wow him with everything he's learned.

Of course, it's all for nothing, because Eddie swoops in and steals Tommy right out from under him before Buck can even ask Tommy about his thoughts on the FAA Reauthorization Act of 2024.

Once they make their relationship official, Tommy does make good on his promise to take Buck up, and it's so fun to watch Tommy navigate the skies like the helicopter is an extension of his body, like he's barely wowed anymore by the fact he can fly, and he even lets Buck handle the cyclic for a couple of minutes.

They're hovering almost 6,000 feet above city limits, watching the sun set in a sweet comfortable silence, when Buck's almost had his fill of looking at the clean lines of Tommy's profile, he says, "Someday, when I get certified, I'm going to do a Screwdriver Down in a MD-500."

Once Tommy has wrestled the bird out of its sudden 400-foot free fall and back into an even hover, he grips the cyclic until his knuckles bleed white and says, teeth clenched, "Evan, unless you want tomorrow's top headline to be 'Two LAFD Firefighters Die In Massive West Hollywood Helicopter Crash,' I'm begging you to keep the dirty talk to yourself until we're back on the ground."

Headcanon 2:

Tommy has seen a UFO. He's actually seen, like, four. The third time, he'd been flying over the San Gabriel Mountains when something popped up on his radar out of literally nowhere and clipped his tail rotor, sending both him and the craft crashing into the woods. 

He doesn't remember anything that happened after that. He woke up in a windowless hospital room where someone in full military dress blues shook his hand and congratulated him on becoming the first ambassador to outer space. Then he made Tommy sign approximately eight million SF-312s and consent to be called upon "if the time should ever come." 

This is why he can't watch sci-fi movies with a straight face.

Headcanon 3:

Back in 1996, Tommy's buddies Jamal Kluger and Mitch Henney finally convinced him to go to one of the weekly school dances, mostly because Jamal was determined to slow dance with Amanda O'Shaughnessy and he needed moral support. Tommy didn't hate dances per se. Were there a hundred other things he'd rather be doing? Yes. He had a backlog of Car and Driver that really needed seeing to, but Jamal was practically his brother and Tommy would do a lot worse than dispassionately swaying with a few of his classmates to Mariah Carey in the name of best-friendship.

He'd been in the middle of trying to get Jamal's attention—not that he was ever going to notice, because he was finally dancing with Amanda and everyone else in the gym had probably ceased to exist—with his hands hovering a respectful quarter inch off Laura Lee Moore's hips, who said she'd specifically requested Dreaming of You, when the slow turning they'd been doing put him at the perfect vantage point to see Brett Bennett, pitcher for the East Woodbridge Falcons, dancing with Vanessa Wilson.

Brett was wearing a really nice button-up shirt and Tommy's gaze kept snagging on the way his arms filled out the sleeves, and he couldn't help but wonder if Vanessa could feel the calluses on Brett's hands through her miniskirt. They were probably rough and kept snagging the fabric. Vanessa could probably feel the pull of them, like velcro trying to pry apart. He watched Brett lean down to say something to her and couldn't help but think Brett wouldn't have to strain his neck so much to talk if he were dancing with Tommy. They were almost of a height; Tommy would barely have to tilt his head down. Selena crooned I just want to hold you close, but so far, all I have are dreams of you, and Tommy's heart pounded so loud he was almost certain Laura Lee could hear it over the music. When the song ended, he awkwardly backed away from her and thanked her for the dance, his gaze on Brett and Vanessa, who were still pressed close even though the Quad City DJs were enthusiastically telling people to ride a train. According to his cousin Denise, who was a grade below him and also in attendance that night, Laura Lee spent the rest of the night crying in the bathroom because Tommy couldn't take his eyes off Vanessa.

Almost thirty years later, he and Evan are hanging on the couch, half-watching an episode of Taskmaster and reminiscing about their first crushes—"Really, Evan, your teacher?"—and when Tommy tells him about wishing he'd danced to Dreaming of You with Brett Bennett, Buck presses a sweet kiss to Tommy's arm and says, "Stop making me want to time travel so I can fight an eleven-year old."

Tommy laughs and says, "It was more wanting to slow dance with a cute boy in front of everyone than Brett himself. You have nothing to be jealous about. When we were in the eighth grade, he crushed up a bunch of Altoids and snorted them through a hollowed-out pen during social studies. I've never heard anyone scream like that in my entire life. They had an ambulance come for him and he never came back to school after that."

"Sounds like a real winner," Evan teases, tongue between his teeth. "You really know how to pick 'em."

"Yeah, it's a gift," Tommy deadpans, and then wrestles Evan, who's cackling like a hyena, into the couch cushions. 

Months later, Howie and Maddie throw a big party—which Howie's been calling Reception Redux in the OG 118 group chat—in Tommy's backyard, and he's in the middle of an unspoken chicken wing eating contest with Eddie—who's winning, and Tommy has no idea how he's putting them away so fast—when the music changes from some pop song he doesn't know to a familiar tinkle of piano chords. Howie strong-arms the mic away from the DJ and announces with a big grin that the song was requested by someone who wanted to "quote-unquote: dance with a cute boy in front of everyone."

Tommy almost chokes on the wing in his mouth, and he barely wipes the barbeque sauce off his fingers in time before Evan comes over, takes his hand, and pulls him onto the little dance floor they'd put down that morning in the flattest part of the yard. 

His heart pounds as Evan drapes his arms over Tommy's shoulders like it's the easiest thing in the world, pressing close until it feels like their bodies are merging everywhere they touch, and then starts to sway. Tommy slowly lets his hands settle on Evan's hips, firm and sure. He doesn't even consider doing the hover thing. 

As Selena sings about wishing on stars, Tommy closes his eyes and tucks his temple against Evan's, and for a moment they're in the East Westbridge Junior High School gym, which smells like sweat and cherry Lip Smackers and body odor, and across the room Jamal and Mitch both give him an enthusiastic thumbs up—and Mitch then does something obscene with his hands that has Jamal smacking him upside the head—because Tommy's dancing with the boy of his dreams in front of everyone while his stack of Car and Driver magazines sit unread and curling from the humidity. 

"If Brett Whatshisname shows up, I won't be responsible for my actions," Evan says warmly, voice soft against the curve of his ear. "Literally. I already cleared it with Athena."

I'll be dreaming with you tonight endlessly, the song promises, and Tommy opens his eyes in the present. He takes a deep breath, borrows the energy of Selena's vow, and pulls back just far enough to whisper against the corner of Evan's mouth, "Marry me."

[gallusrostromegalus]

You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:

How did folks react to the moon landing?

"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.

Especially when it's a kid.

"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."

"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"

"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"

"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.

"Yeah!"

Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"

---

The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.

"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"

"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.

"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.

"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"

"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.

Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.

"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"

"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.

"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"

"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"

There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).

"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.

---

"No." Grunted Mayuri.

"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.

"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"

"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."

"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.

"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.

"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.

"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.

"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."

Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.

"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"

"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.

"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."

Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.

"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.

"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.

"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."

"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.

"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"

"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.

"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"

"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.

"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."

"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.

"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.

"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."

"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"

"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.

"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.

---

Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-

"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.

"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."

"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."

"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"

"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.

Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"

"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"

"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.

"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.

"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.

"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."

"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."

"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"

"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."

"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.

"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.

"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.

Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."

"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"

"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.

"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"

"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.

The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.

"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."

"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."

[johnbrand]

Screen Froze

Podcasting had become inescapable in recent years. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on...well everything. Politics, world sports, cooking, an obscure movie from 1978 only released in a now-extinct language. If it could be covered, it would be. And one could find this content anywhere across the internet. Youtube, social media, even streaming services promoted their podcasters. Everyone was watching everyone talking. 

Of course, with so many different podcasters flying about, it was difficult to actually spot out talent. And from a sociologically micro perspective, it was even harder for individuals to find podcasters discussing the content they actually wanted to hear about. The more unique the niche, the less people one could happen upon to be talking about it during their recorded stream of consciousness. It was a simple formula, but it forced individuals to browse for hours or even days to find what they were searching for.

Sometimes though, people could not hold such patience. They would not wait for their new hero, a disciple preaching their values and morals to audiences around the globe. They would skip past one livestream discussing the economics of green villages in Switzerland to the next debating the potential existence between a minor character in two separate fandom universes. They could even perhaps land into a podcast like Sean’s.

“Most people just don’t understand the Soviet Union’s impact on architecture,” the measly, pale nerd innocently commented. A little shy in front of the camera, he was only able to relax a bit when discussing his favorite topics. Sean dressed in theme too, wearing a brutalist-like business casual outfit, a trait his small but dedicated fanbase adored.

“There were a lot of architects that really shaped this movement from all around the world,” Sean continued. “But today, we are just going to focus on those from the USSR.”

So what happened when one’s patience dried up? Well, everything was brought to a halt.

DragonHeart49: anyone else’s screen freeze? superduperloverboy: mine too <3bitsandmore: sean, I think ur glitching out

With the screen frozen, our impatient soul could now get to work. If one could not find the podcast they were looking for, then why not just create their own? Obviously, this did not mean constructing a podcast themselves, but rather alter the fabric of reality and completely realign another’s being to their preferred state. That was much easier.

Physical modifications were made first. A much larger body was necessary, something that demanded confidence and respect from others. Juicy pecs, rippling abs, sturdy legs. There was always something unreasonably fun in bloating the podcaster’s feet up a few sizes. An imposing frame to be craved by others, even when hidden underneath clothes, was priority. And speaking of clothes, those were quickly stripped down to less formal articles. Expensive branded tee, athletic shorts so small that boxer-briefs were visible, classic white Nike socks, all of it much more respectable than a button-up and tie.

This was not the impatient soul’s first time altering a podcaster to their liking, nor would it be their last. Physically at least, each of the end products were a little different. All alpha males, but just enough variation to not warrant any unnecessary rumors. This particular podcaster had his pre-American heritage redirected from France to India, the features in the screenshot tanning accordingly as a dark stubble acquainted itself along the sharper jawline. Of course, the bulge was accurately enlarged for geographical standards too.

Mentally however, all the podcasters could be considered copies. They each spoke of the same rhetoric, theories, and ideologies that our impatient soul wanted to hear. No matter how “backwards” or “hateful” their discussions were deemed as, nearly anything could be said by hulking bodies with undeniable charisma.

“These homos have no idea what they’re talking about!” Sanjay raged as the podcast restarted, his deep voice cocky and assertive. "Sure bro, I was just thinkin’ about a girl’s rack I saw earlier today but there's more to a girl than big tits. There's a tight pussy too!”

The chat section lit off with encouragement, their fates too having been altered.

MassiveFART69: you tell them fags bro! LOL XD crassmassschlongnator: we want to BREED THEM TOO!!!! <3TITSGALORE: JUST TALKIN ABOUT IT ALREADY GOT SANJAY GRABBIN HIMSELF AGAIN

Sanjay vacantly looked down, finding himself already subconsciously scratching at the thick bush within his shorts. He let out a hot protein fart followed by a laugh, his scratching slowly extending into groping his fat 8 inch babymaker.

“God, that was WET bros!” Sanjay applauded himself, his free massive hand swallowing the mic. “Anyway, I’ll catch you on the flip side dudes, gotta go hit the gym. Bros for life!”

There was a reason the traditional masculine movement was becoming stronger. Maybe it was because men were slowly aspiring to become the alphas’ equals, or because fags were beginning to submit to their nature. Or possibly, it could have been because each time a screen froze, reality was altered one click closer to traditional, normal masculinity.

[spitgobbler]

Bunny Hop ! [rough ver.]

uh oh… Leon seems stressed. its a good thing he has a bunny to take it out on!

pairing: fem!reader x Leon Kennedy

tags: bunny hybrid, owner, biting/hickeys, knife, tactical gloves stay on, clit spanking, mean Leon, tail grabbing, p in v, mentions of breeding, reader is a bunny hybrid but gets put in doggy?! sweetness at the end 🫶🏻

note: my writing is a bit rusty so if you see a mistake, no you don’t 😭 also rough is kinda subjective but this is def rougher compared to the soft ver!

soft ver here!

masterlist

It was late, very late, and Leon still wasn’t home. The sun had gone down and the orange hues of the sunset went away and out came the moon and stars. It was way pass dinner too.

He messaged you briefly on the phone he got you once he took you in from the center, the purpose of it to remain in contact even when he was away for work, like today. Something about being held up and to be ready for him when he came home. Whatever that meant…

Leon’s messages were always short and simple over the phone, so you didn’t think much of it and just did as he said.

Laying there prettily on the couch watching some random movie on the TV in one of Leon’s shirts. It smelt like him and it just made you miss your owner even more. With his musk and cologne right on your nose because the article of clothing, it was hard not to let your fingers trail downwards to satiate yourself till he came home. But you were a good bunny and knew he would find out, leading to hours of denial instead. You shake the thoughts away and try to focus on the movie instead to forget that ache between your thighs.

Eventually, the door slammed roughly behind Leon when he finally arrived home, hinges squeaking from the abrupt strain. The sound causes you to jump from where you laid on the couch. He hasn’t said anything yet, and so with a twitch of your cotton tail and a cautious approach, you reach for his warm hand.

“O-Owner? Is everything okay?” You question softly, brows knitted as you look up at him.

Pure aggravation radiated off of him, his cock straining against his cargos. It was written all over his face that work was terrible today. Sure, his job wasn’t necessarily fun but it seemed like today was just a really, really bad day.

He releases an agitated sigh, free hand cupping your face and his lips press against yours hard. It’s steamy. Like you’re the ice to cool his heated emotions. He lets his actions speak for him.

You respond back to the kiss immediately, soft lips plush against his as your eyes flutter shut. Every question swirling in your mind about what has him so uptight flying out from Leon’s abrupt kiss.

Leon breathes out, his features tense. "I thought I said to be ready for your owner?”

His pretty blue eyes are dark when he looks into yours and it makes you feel that familiar feeling ignite in your core. Leon's calloused thumb rubs against your cheek gently before his hand teasingly trails down to your throat, his fingers ghosting around it possessively before moving away.

“Y-Yeah… I am.” You nod in a daze from the kiss. The affection making your heart thump from finally seeing the man you missed the most. Even if he was only gone for a few hours that day.

Your owner is the big bad wolf when he looks at you so angrily, so hungry. Strong arms and shoulders tense with frustration and aggression from a shitty day at work.

You know what he needs to make it all melt away. And so you let Leon snatch you up with his bruising hold, like you’re the prey and he’s the predator.

There’s no luxury of the soft blankets and pillows of Leon’s bed. He needed you now, and god, it was so primal how he pressed you against the couch beneath him in the living room. Hands finding purchase on his biceps when he cages you in and pressed harsh kisses and bites to your neck.

Tutting in disapproval, his hands push your thighs against your chest. Eyes widening and cheeks blushing at the stretch you feel in your legs. The gusset of your panties ruined with arousal, Leon lets out a deep groan at the sight.

“Next time,” Leon begins, his hands unsheathing his knife on his tactical belt, the sharp blade glinting in the light of the lamp. With care, he guides the sharpened edge to cut the cute panties off of you, his shirt you wore being cut shortly after as well, which left you bare underneath him.

“I mean that these better not be on you.” He murmurs, the knife sliding back into the sheathe.

You should be frightened by the way he used his blade to cut your clothes off impatiently but all it did was make you thankful he got them off so quickly.

It clicks in your head what his text meant now, but unfortunately, Leon is not in a forgiving mood. His calloused fingertips spank your clit and it’s like electricity sparking through your nerves. You jolt beneath him with a whimper and widened eyes.

“Owner, I didn’t know!” You try to protest.

Leon tuts once more, eye glimmering amused, “Is my poor bunny just as stupid as those rookies? It’s okay baby, I just gotta teach you for next time.”

More lashes of his fingers against your swollen clit follow, back arching with each spank. Your pretty little pussy quivering every time you feel the occasional leather texture of his tactical gloves.

“Good bunny, that’s it.” He praises, letting his digits slide over your wet folds as a reward.

He teases you, spitting right onto your cunny and smearing it all over, making you even more of a mess. His thick fingers spoiling you with such heated touches to your sweet spots.

A needy breathless whimper escapes, “T-Thank you, owner.”

The air is warm, heavy with intensity and you swear it’s almost like you’re in heat. Head gone in the clouds with an affectionate lust filled gaze. Leon always thought you looked so pretty like this. You were always pretty to him. But there was just something how you melted into a puddle of primal desires beneath him.

Slowly, he unbuckles his belt, slipping the long piece of leather out from each belt loop on his pants. He tosses it to the floor by the side of the couch, his own eyes trained on you.

Leon pushed you over onto your tummy and unzipped his trousers before freeing his aching length.

“You can thank your owner a different way.” He huffs, wanting nothing more than burying his pent up cock inside of you.

Your face burns at the position he has you in, features hidden against the cushions of the couch but your body on complete display. Hips raising from instinct, goosebumps form all over your heated skin when you feel one hand caressing your hip, knowing his other hand was occupied with smearing his precum all over his cock.

Leon groans deeply, lining the flushed tip of his cock with your needy entrance. His chest rising and falling with heavier breathes now. Leon’s gloved hand moves from your hip and up to the round stubby cotton tail above your plush rear.

A stuttered moan slipping when he grabs it but it’s quickly transformed into a lewd squeal when he uses it as leverage to yank you back and onto his cock.

No matter how many times your owner breeds and fucks you, there’s always a pleasurable stretch that makes your toes curl and your breath run away from your lungs.

Your sloppy little bunny pussy was molded and trained by him, there was no doubt about it. It causes his teeth to gnash together as a long guttural moan draws from his lips. His abdomen tensing at the relief of being inside his precious little breeding bunny after such a long day.

You whimper out sweetly, “Owner, please. I’ve missed you so much. Please move…”

Even if Leon wanted to instantly start pumping his leaking cock into your tight warm entrance, he knew he needed a moment. He always did. Each and every time he slid inside, it never failed to make him do a double take and cause him to almost shoot his load right away. He thought he was surely more experienced by now but you did always manage to make him feel younger.

“Mm, fuck.” He grits out. His fingers still curled around that cute cotton tail of yours and he uses it to make you fuck you back onto his fat cock.

The pace is slow and sensual but his grip on your tail is amplifying each drag of his cock against your inner walls, feeling every pulsing vein. It feels good and the only sounds you’re making is helpless whiny moans of pleasure. It’s good, really good, but you need more.

“Owner, c-come on. S’not enough, I need more of you owner.” A pathetic cry for your owner escapes.

He huffs audibly in frustration, “Greedy little bunny.” He places his other hand on your hip for support and snaps his hips harshly into you. “Shut up and fucking take it then.”

Loud slaps of sweaty skin colliding echo throughout the apartment, accompanied by erotic moans and whimpers and husky groans. Shutting up wasn’t an option for you with how his thick cock was filling you up and kissing at your cervix with each precise thrust.

Toes curling in delightful pleasure when he begins to fuck you how you pleaded for him to do. Soft bunny ears flopping around as your generous owner grunts from behind you.

Your jaw falls slack, erotic moans spill and overflow from your lips. “Owner, mm! I-I love it.”

A breathless chuckle escapes him at your messy slurred speech, completely dumb on his cock. You were being so loud though and you knew better. The apartment walls were paper thin with absolutely no sound proofing.

Strong hands reach for your trembling form, one arm around your waist, while he clamped his free hand around your mouth. Your sweaty nude body pressed back against his clothed chest, you try to whine when you realize he’s still in his work attire but it gets lost against his palm.

“I said shut up and take it didn’t I?” Leon breathes heavily in your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine and your pussy quivering around him. “I don’t need to deal with a noise complaint on top of everything.”

With your torsos upright and pressed against one another, Leon lets his hips buck wildly. His gloved hand concealing your lewd noises. He loved the sound of them, you were like the sweetest songbird to him but now wasn��t the time.

That coil of undeniable release tightens in your core, tears forming in your eyes helplessly. The soft fluff of your bunny tail tickles against his clothed abdomen from the closeness of this position Leon has you in and you’re so close to heaven.

He feels that delicious clench and flutter of your greedy wet cunt around him, he’s right along with you. Heavy sensual breaths fall from your owner, he begins to whimper here and there.

“Fuck, that’s it.” His arm tightens around you.

All of the passion and frustration, the longing and affection comes to a boil, pussy gushing and strangling his cock as you orgasm. Leon keeps rocking his hips, guiding you through your messy release. After only a few more strokes his hold becomes bruising, shooting his warm seed inside and breeding you like a good owner should.

He presses his face into your neck, whining quietly. Fuck, it was always like this. Always milking him with that perfect pussy of yours. Neither of you would ever be satisfied with a partner that isn’t each other.

“Need it again, cum on my cock again.” He groans out.

Leon lets his fingers slip into your mouth and his other arm relax so he could reach down and rub messy circles on your sensitive clit, making you squeal. He wanted to go again but between the shit day at work and then coming straight home to breed the stress away. He would need some time, definitely wanting to fuck you to sleep later but he also wasn’t gonna stop till he felt you squirm and clamp down on his dick again.

Your head falls back as your cry out in pleasure, thighs twitching and trembling. Swollen clit so sensitive after just finishing but it made it feel so good at the same time. Leon rubs and caresses the most delicious circles with the perfect amount of pressure, the callouses on his hardworking hands causing that coil to form rapidly again.

“Owner, owner, oh my god!” You whimper incoherently, spit coating his fingers as Leon continues to silence your moans.

He pinches at your clit and everything falls apart once more. Leon gets what he wanted, relishing in the way he feels your sloppy spent cunt make a mess all over him and squeeze down.

Your hips jerk, helplessly squirming in pleasure while your second orgasm washes over and causes all your nerves to be sent into overdrive. Leon held you up with care, making sure your shaking form is supported.

“Good baby, so good for me.” Leon cooed, breathing still a bit labored.

When the quivering that accompanied your afterglows calms, he finally helps you to lay down and relax on the couch. Soft gentle kisses are pressed to your cheeks, contrasting to his previous behavior now that he was not as stressed anymore.

You smile sleepily at him, brain still mushy but your senses are coming back slowly but surely. Cheeks and body still warm from the intense passion but your breathing was returning to normalcy.

Leon soothes you, “You did so good for me. Such a sweetheart.”

Caressing your soft long bunny ears and murmuring sweet words to you after the deed. To him, it was one of the most important things to do, to make sure despite his words and actions, he loves you. It’s just the heat of the moment. And well, he knows you like it anyways.

[bigtreefest]

Whatever You Need

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: You want nothing more than couch cuddles with Ari after a long day

Word count: 1,628

Content/warnings: non-sexual nudity, sad vibes but it gets better, comfort, fluff, Ari being so sweet and understanding, soft glances, minimal dialogue

A/N: Literally after two days at my big girl job, I feel dead. This is what I wish I had. Dedicated to all my besties out there who relate.

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

You walked through the door Friday evening after what felt like the longest day ever. It wasn’t even a particularly hard day, but you just felt like it was dragging on and on and on, unending, which led to suffering.

You threw your keys unceremoniously on top of your bag, which you had let slip off your shoulder and drop onto the floor, too tired to move with grace. Your shoes had been toed off and kicked any which way, askew in the hall and nowhere near their usual spot.

Without even looking at Ari, you went straight for the bathroom to freshen up and wash your face, clearing the film of the long day away. The small reprieve was hardly a match for the way your feet were swollen from the long time on them, or how your hamstrings ached from the periods of sitting on a chair that seemed to be designed by satan himself in between.

Nothing all day had been comfortable, and at this point, that was all you wanted: comfort. Moving from the bathroom into the bedroom, you stripped each piece of clothing off, leaving them strewn in a path to the dresser where you tried to find something to wear that wouldn’t make you want to try to wiggle and writhe your way out of existence. Something actually comfortable, and soft, and not scratchy, and not tight. As you searched through the drawers, it felt like every single article of clothing you owned was ready to start a fight right now.

At this point, the potential of feeling fresh and clean began to seem elusive, so you dragged your feet over to the hamper, plucking out the oversized sleep shirt from the night before that was still laying on top. You were pleasantly surprised when you gave it a sniff to find it still decent, smelling like your sheets, with a small remnant of Ari from the way you clung to him in bed.

You slipped it over your head, a small glimmer of contentment seeping into you body, along with a fresh pair of undies and socks.

Ari hardly heard you shuffle into the house over the sizzling of the skillet in front of him. Usually, he’d be inclined to treat you to going out on a Friday night, but from your uncharacteristically short texts when leaving work, he knew leaving the house once you got home wasn’t in the cards. He didn’t mind making dinner at all, then, so it would be just about ready as you got home. All he wanted to do was care for you, cater to you on days like this.

As you walked through the door, he turned away from the stove, watching you walk in and drop your things, not even sparing him a glance as you made your way down the hall. He only turned back around to quickly switch off the burner as he waited for you, hips perched against the island and arms crossed, hoping you’d emerge soon. He knew sometimes you just needed time and space, so he would give you for now.

When he heard the soft padding of your socked feet move from bedroom and into the living room, his eyes continued to follow you. He watched you flop down onto the couch, still completely disregarding him. Seeing your legs fly up as your face smashed against the cushions was what he took as his signal to finally approach, very carefully.

Ari walked around the side of the couch, crouching down next to your sprawled form, your one arm and leg hanging off the side, while your face was nuzzled in the crack between cushions. He figured you could hear his steps towards you, but just in case, he took a deep breath and gently placed a large hand on your back as to make you aware of his presence in a non-startling manner. He began rubbing slow, warm circles against your back, over your shirt until you finally tore your head from its hideout and faced him, immediately dropping it back down.

You could see the soft smile on his face that you assumed was an attempt to conceal the worry underneath. His eyes lit up just slightly when they met your one that wasn’t smushed against the plush material.

“Hey, sugar. You okay?”

You lips had been shut from your silence since you’d left work, making you reluctant to unsettle the concealment, so you simply nodded, even though it was far from accurately conveying your true feelings. You watched as Ari’s brow furrowed, belief in your reaction almost nonexistent, but he didn’t verbally say anything, although his face said it all. The corner of his mouth turned up in a tight-lipped quirk, halfway to a grimace of concern. You watched as his deep blue eyes searched your face in contemplation of what to do next. He hated seeing you like this, and the solution to it depended on the day.

“You want dinner? Would that make you feel better? You need to eat?”

This time you actually shook your head, before lifting it once more and turning back to smush your nose flat against your face into the couch. You words came out from the corners of your mouth, slightly muffled but not enough that he couldn’t decipher them.

“No offense, because I’m sure it’s delicious, but I absolutely cannot stand the smell of the kitchen right now. Food is the last thing I want.”

He nodded, his thumb still slightly rubbing your shoulder, hoping the physical touch was doing something to soothe you. What was the next move of things you’d want when you got like this?

“Okay. I can pack it up. We don’t have to eat that. And especially not right now. You want a bath? I can get it started.”

Another shake of the head.

“No. Don’t wanna be wet. Don’t wanna move.”

Ari hummed in thought. You still hadn’t complained about his hand that was now rubbing up and down the expanse of your back.

“Okay, give me a second.”

You simply grunted in recognition, unmoving from your spot as he went to clean up the kitchen and return. You hadn’t even shifted, as he heard no movements besides his own in the quiet house. Ari returned to your side, but didn’t crouch this time.

“Alright, sugar. Turn over.”

He could see you slightly tilt your head towards him, your only visible eye squinting skeptically with a tilted brow, but you complied. Ari moved smoothly, but slowly along with you, lifting your arms up and over his shoulders, and tucking his own hands under the small of your back, trapping his arms against the couch. He moved his hips in between your legs and snuggled in on top of you, placing his ear against your sternum. His head bounced slightly with your scoff of amusement. Good, that meant this was working.

Your arms moved from his shoulders, one going up and the other sliding down until you were petting over his silky hair and scratching his back. It was more of a self-soothing practice than for his enjoyment, although he’d never complain about the feeling of your fingertips roaming over him.

You could feel the rumble of Ari’s chest against your lower stomach as he spoke up again.

“Is this better?”

You just nodded, even though you knew he couldn’t see the reaction, but hopefully he could feel the slight movement that came with it.

Your roaming hands began pulling up his shirt, dipping underneath and caressing the the broad, muscular expanse, needing to feel his skin against yours more than you realized. He didn’t judge you though, instantly raising himself so you could pull the fabric the rest of the way off over his head. Sitting on his knees between your thighs, he looked at you again, eyes filled with softness.

“You want me to make you feel good?”

Your response was almost totally wordless again as you shook your head, before you sat up just enough so he could have room to help you remove your shirt, too, your body heavy with reluctance to peel away from the cushions. After he shimmied the soft material over your head, you put your arms under his, pulling him up your body and closer to you. You broke your silence once again, your voice hardly projecting from your throat in a rasp.

“No. Not like how you’re thinking.”

You pulled him down more to settle against you again. This time, his head was tucked into your neck, beard scratching slightly in contrast to the way the soft, bare skin of your torsos was pressed together.

Your hands slid down his back, until they met two plump butt cheeks you were delighted to squeeze. You held them for a second before contentedly drumming in a rhythm only you knew. Ari huffed a laugh, the breeze moving against your hair.

“I don’t think anything could make me feel better than this, right here.”

Your hands traced upward again, one between his shoulder blades, the other scratching his scalp, rewarding you with deep rumbles and soft groans in your ear. It’s not like Ari had anything else planned for tonight, but even if he did, he’d be more than happy to cuddle on top of you with his head tucked in your neck if that’s what you needed.

As he continued to make the delicious moans of satisfaction, a smile finally started creeping onto your face. Feeling him relax in your hold caused you to do the same.

As your eyes finally started fluttering shut from the comfort, no longer blankly staring at the ceiling, you sighed in relief, almost. “Yeah, that’s the stuff.”

Bonus A/N: Am I ready to start my first full week of my job? No. Will posting this make me feel better? If you comment, then yeah, probs.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[therosietoesy]

Shout at the Devil

Warning: riding dick, smut, choking, spitting, hair pulling, unprotected sex, breeding, cream pie.

A/N: reposting my first ever Eddie fic

You and Eddie are a match made in heaven. Although everyone is confused on how the photo editor of the yearbook ended up with the resident freak. It happened during the summer before your senior year. You were at Hideout photographing the bands playing, it was then you were introduced to Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin. You were the last person he expected to see there but it created a friendship that was golden.

Soon Eddie asked you out and you were inseparable. You could not have asked for a better partner. He was beyond supportive of your dreams and you of his. Anytime Corroded Coffin played he made sure that you were their photographer nobody else could be but you. Which you truly appreciated and found beyond adorable.

It was a typical night that Corroded Coffin had a show to play that evening. You met Eddie at the hellfire club room they were playing their campaign before their show which their set wasn't till very later that night. It looked like they were cleaning up the session and getting ready to go for the show. Everyone else has left for the evening expect for Eddie who was waiting for you to arrive. “How was tonight’s session Dungeon Master?” You asked. He let out a chuckle “It was great, those dorks won’t know what hits them next session when the big storyline is introduced.” He pulled you into a hug and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Well, it sounds like you had loads of fun.” You replied. His eyes kept going back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “Why don’t you just kiss me Eds?” You joked and he finally pressed his lips against yours. A simple kiss turning to a heated make out session and he led you to the infamous Dungeon Master throne. He took his rightful place and pulled you into his lap continuing the heated kiss. We'll continue in kissing it turned into grinding on each other. Thank Ozzy you wore a skirt that day so you could really feel your cunt against the roughness of the denim of his jeans. He began to groan out your name “Y/n, please don’t stop.” You just giggled and continued your movement against his crotch. This kept going on for a few moments until his hands gripped your waist and stilled your movements all together.

“Babe.” He mumbled against your lips, you nodded in response. “Ride me, please.” He whispered softly. You never moved faster to remove each article of clothing, but a firm hand stops you from removing your skirt, you glanced up at him. “Keep it on” he spoke and you nodded your head in agreement. He removes your panties from underneath and lifted you up over his dick. Carefully placing you down on his dick and holding your hips letting you adjust. You both let at a moan of the feeling of being connected. A whine leaves your lips and you begin to roll your hips. Eddie hands hold on to your waist as soon as you start picking up your pace. Bouncing up and down over and over again moans flying from your lips. “Y/N!” Eddie started chanting your name over and over again like a beautiful song. One of his hands came to your neck and he started to apply pressure to your neck which made you open your mouth and his other hand held your jaw so that way he can spit into your mouth. “Swallow “ He grunted and you swallowed thus resulting you sticking out your tongue to show him and he groaned out at how obedient you are for him.

His grip started to get frimer and slightly painful in a good way. “Eddie, baby, please oh please.” You whined and picked up your pace.He started to tease and groan with how you felt wrapped around him. “Begging to cum already hun? You want to breeded don’t cha?” He quipped while running his hand through your hair and he yanked it. You moaned out a loud yes and kept begging him. “Eds, please breed me. Fill me up with your cum. I need it.” You whined and felt the glorious burn in your legs and stomach. He soon felt your pussy start squeezing him for what he’s worth and then his fingers fly to your clit to began to circle it to bring you over the edge. Shouting of his name “Eddie, Oh my fucking god!” as you came all over his cock. Thus he started bucking up into you faster and faster once he was close stopped his movements and held you in place as he released his cum into you and filling you up. Pants and sighs fill the Hellfire club room and soon enough soft laughter. “Wow, that was something babe.” Eddie remarked and held you close to him. You giggled, “I love you Eddie. Don’t forget you have a show to get to.” He groaned “Fuck, I don’t want to go.” “Common Rockstar, we gotta get going.” You said getting ready to climb off his lap. Once you both gotten up and stretched out, both began to redress and you slipped on your underwear while being bent over Eddie came and placed a slap on your cum filled pussy to remind you of this moment when you watch him on stage tonight and felt some of his cum leak down your thighs.