#both are little cheaters

[foxsoulart]

Prompt 6 with Mikal and his bro Casey Junior

Prompt list @truths33k3r4

Face it boys, you both cheated.

[d-lanx]

These two would have committed war crimes together

[heartbreakercupcake]

when people start talking shit about Dana just being some whore slut who left Miguel for no reason I'm just gonna point to this part in the comics-

Like seriously, by no means am I saying what she did was okay, but you people make me feel like we read two different comics, Miguel, EVEN IF HE DIDN'T MEAN TOO, drove Dana away, also this wasn't even the first time he was violent against her

Like I KNOW he was "on drugs" but like still

AND EVEN AFTER THAT she still stuck by him she was willing to get rapture for him cause she knows the effects of it, like come on now,

Also she was TRYING to keep the relationship together but Miguel out right refused to talk to her or be honest with her

AND SHE LIKE GAVE HER LIFE TO SAVE XIAN

Like I know people are upset for her getting close with Tyler Stone, but you people gotta understand that he was clearly manipulating which she wasn't in the best place emotionally cause Miguel just wouldn't say anything and the last thing he did was call her stupid and threw a plant at her, and at that point she thought it was over.

Look you don't have to like Dana, or agree with the choices she made, you can dislike/hate her BUT DON'T FUCKING LIE ABOUT HER OR ACT LIKE SHE WASN'T GOING THREW SOME SHIT HERSELF,

like I get it bad writing and all that but have that same energy for Miguel, cause he CLEARLY wasn't perfect either.

[mister-ancunin]

i know wade's one of your secondaries but the game was one of my favorite iterations of him and the shot of him shoving the pizza slice into his mask has rotated in my head for years 😹

REAL ACTUALLY !!! wade’s such a goober . you don’t know how many times he’s tried to eat other stuff with his mask on…silly man silly man.

[floralovebot]

listen,, i am Not defending all of sky's actions or his personality but he's genuinely just not as bad as the fandom makes him out to be.

a lot of y'all forget that sky is a prince with extremely overbearing and downright abusive parents that refuse to listen to him or treat him with any ounce of respect. and that the whole diaspro vs bloom situation was started directly because his parents forced an arranged marriage between diaspro and sky, constantly telling her parents that it would work out and never listening to sky the hundreds of times he tried to stop it. like again, he's not great, he's my least favorite specialist. but that situation was never in his favor. he was a 16 year old that dealt with strict, emotionally abusive parents his entire life and got forced into an arranged marriage with someone he never loved and was constantly told that it Needed to happen for the kingdom. trying to play it out like he's a serial cheater with some nefarious master plan is like,, really weird. again! not a great person he does a lot of shitty things. but blaming that specific situation on him, a teen with absolutely no say in his life who just met someone he genuinely likes and could love, instead of his parents is incredibly weird to me.

[iguessitsjustme]

Because I’m talking to my best friend and they vote on all my polls.

[takimakiiiii]

chicken shop date - LN4 x reader

synopsis!: lando is invited to join you on your dating show but who knows whether it'll be awkward or whether everything will go smoothly?

wc!: 4.9k!! (sorta short lol)

Part 2 is here!

pairing!: lando norris x fem!reader

includes!: A LOT of fluff, mutual flirting, a little bit of swearing, heavy use of y/n, 3rd person perspective, playful banter

a/n: this is heavily inspired by amelia dimoldenberg's chicken shop date that you can find on youtube. i absolutely loved the episode with lando but i thought it he was super shy and awkward so i wrote this as an if he wasn't so shy and was flirting back. i also stole some of the comments from the andrew garfield episode because that comment section is GOLD. anyways enjoy! xx

2 days later. . .

Now Playing: LANDO NORRIS | CHICKEN SHOP DATE

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

The camera lingers on Y/N and Lando, the soft hum of the shop filling the background as they sit across from each other at a small, worn table. The lighting is warm, almost golden, casting a cozy glow over the scene. Behind them, the counter is lined with empty glasses and in front of them a bowl of chips—forgotten, untouched, as if it’s a mere prop in the moment unfolding between the two of them.

There’s something almost cinematic about the way their gazes lock, intense and unblinking, concentration at its finest. It could almost be romantic—the way they’re sitting there, their eyes caught in a dance of curiosity and something deeper—but there’s a playful edge to the atmosphere. Neither of them seems entirely sure what will happen next. The air is light with unspoken tension, the kind of tension that makes every little thing seem charged, like a game they’re both trying to figure out.

Their smiles are wide, almost too wide, but neither of them seems to mind. It’s the kind of smile that speaks volumes—something just beyond the surface, an invitation for more. Suddenly, the silence is broken by Lando’s voice, gleeful and loud. “HA! You blinked!” He leans back in his chair, letting it rock on two legs, his eyes practically gleaming with the thrill of victory. Y/N freezes for a beat, her gaze still locked with his. There’s a flicker of disbelief, like she can’t quite believe he’s actually won, but it fades as a laugh escapes her. “You’re such a cheater,” she says, the words dripping with playful accusation.

The camera shifts, zooming in on her face. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes twinkling with the mix of annoyance and amusement. Her body leans slightly forward; her arms crossed loosely in a challenge. Lando shakes his head, an exaggerated expression of mock indignation overtaking his features. His grin widens as he holds up both hands in a “What can I say?” gesture. “Nuh-uh, I won. Fair and square.”

Y/N can’t stop the smile creeping across her face, though she rolls her eyes dramatically, as if she’s trying to resist the pull of his grin. “Yuh-huh,” she mutters under her breath, her voice laced with sarcastic sweetness.

And then Lando cracks up. The sound fills the small space between them—loud, genuine, like it’s something only they can understand. There’s a moment where their laughter overlaps, both of them caught in the same private joke. Neither of them bothers to explain it. It’s just theirs, a moment shared in a way that feels impossibly right.

Her eyes narrow, but there’s more mischief behind the look now. She leans in, just a little, her gaze never wavering from his. “That’s exactly what a cheater would say,” she says, her tone low and teasing. She throws the accusation across the table like a challenge, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table.

Lando's face morphs into a grin that’s too playful to be taken seriously, his eyes dancing with an unspoken dare. “Well, that’s exactly what a sore loser would say,” he fires back without missing a beat. There’s something about the way he says it—his voice just a little too sweet, the challenge thick in the air—that makes her want to laugh and argue at the same time.

Without warning, Y/N sticks her tongue out at him, the movement playful but with a sharp edge, like she’s daring him to say something more. The action feels charged, innocent and mischievous all at once. And as she pulls back, she can’t help but notice the way his eyes flicker, as if something in him is waiting for her to make the next move.

The camera cuts abruptly, a moment cut off too soon.

♡

"Alright, I’ve got a question for you," Y/N says, her tone light, but there’s something in the way she places her hands on the table that suggests this isn’t just another throwaway moment. The faintest pink blush spreads across her cheeks, and a grin tugs at her lips, betraying her attempt at seriousness.

"Oh yeah?" Lando raises an eyebrow, the teasing glint in his eyes already giving away that he’s curious but expecting something a little out of the ordinary. His smile stretches just a bit wider, the corners of his mouth lifting as if he’s already bracing for whatever quirky response Y/N is about to throw at him.

There’s a flicker of something in Y/N’s eyes—something that’s almost too quick to catch. Maybe it's nerves, maybe it's excitement, or maybe it's just the moment itself pulling them both deeper into the unspoken tension between them. Whatever it is, it doesn’t escape Lando’s notice. She shifts in her seat, a little more composed now, but still with that undeniable edge of playful energy. "What’s your greatest goal?" she asks, the question floating in the air between them, serious for once.

Lando pauses, his lips pressing together as he thinks. For a moment, he seems lost in his thoughts, as if weighing his answer carefully, but then he shrugs a little—relaxed, even if his eyes are still searching for the right words. "Win a championship, you know. That’d be nice." His gaze drifts off for a moment, but then a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, and maybe beat Carlos in chess for once."

Y/N nods, her expression thoughtful, but there’s a spark of understanding in her eyes. She can’t help but smile a little too, the weight of the conversation already lifting. "I see, okay," she says softly, as if she’s already letting the moment slip away, but it lingers in the air—this brief pause of seriousness.

Lando watches her closely, his gaze narrowing with an almost knowing look. He leans forward slightly, like he’s expecting something. "What about you?" he asks, his voice playful, but there's that tiny bit of curiosity woven in. Without missing a beat, Y/N meets his gaze, her smile widening as if she’s been waiting for this exact question. "To be 6ft," she replies, her tone deadpan but with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Lando almost chokes on his laugh, but he quickly suppresses it, his lips quirking into a smile that refuses to hide. "Oh, really?" he feigns surprise, leaning back just slightly, playing along with her harmless game. "That’s your greatest goal?"

Y/N nods vigorously, her eyes shining with an almost childlike determination. "Yep, I mean, just imagine—turning the tables so you'd be the one looking up at me, instead of the other way around." She shrugs, her playful smirk showing that she’s more than just teasing now. It’s the kind of confidence that only comes when someone’s comfortable enough to say something so ridiculous, yet so endearing.

Lando chuckles, the sound light and genuine. "Yeah? I think I prefer it this way, though," he says, shaking his head with a grin that says he’s not about to let her win this one so easily. Y/N rolls her eyes dramatically, though she can’t stop the laugh bubbling up inside her. "No, but seriously—imagine the flex. A tall girlfriend? That’d be legendary," she adds, her tone playful but with just enough conviction to make it seem like she’s really giving it some thought.

Lando leans forward again, his grin widening at the turn the conversation has taken. "Oh? Girlfriend, already? Isn't this our first date?" He raises an eyebrow.

Y/N doesn’t miss a beat, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I like to move quickly in relationships. You might want to take notes," she says, the words light but with an edge that’s both teasing and confident.

"Duly noted," Lando responds with a quick nod, his voice dripping with playful sincerity. But just as the moment feels like it could get too serious, Y/N breaks character, her laughter spilling out of her like an unexpected burst of sunshine. She presses her sleeve to her face, trying to stifle the giggles, but the effort only makes her laugh harder.

Lando watches her with an affectionate smile, the whole exchange leaving an unmistakable warmth between them—something light and effortless, but undeniably real before the camera cuts.

♡

“Kiss, marry, kill… are you ready?” Y/N asks, her voice flat and expression deadpan. Her gaze is steady, and there's a certain gleam in her eye that suggests she’s not playing around, despite her casual tone. Lando freezes for a moment, blinking as though she’s just thrown him into a sudden storm. The look on his face is a mix of surprise and confusion, like a deer caught in headlights. But curiosity quickly overtakes him, and he nods, clearly intrigued but also a little wary. “Okay… go,” he says, his voice tinged with both hesitation and anticipation.

Y/N doesn’t miss a beat. “Kiss, marry, kill: Oscar, Carlos, and me.”

Lando’s reaction is immediate—he collapses back into his chair, clutching his stomach as a burst of hysterical laughter escapes him. It’s loud and unrestrained, like he’s just been hit with the most absurd punchline of all time.

But Y/N remains unmoved, her eyes narrowed slightly, her expression unwavering. She throws her hands up in the air, frustration edging her voice. “I’m being serious! This is an important topic that needs to be addressed!”

Lando’s laughter slowly dies down, but the grin never quite leaves his face. He raises both hands in mock surrender, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Hang on! Hang on!” He presses his palms together like he’s deep in thought, as though the weight of this decision requires every ounce of his mental energy. “I’m thinking.”

Y/N sighs internally, a familiar and tired gesture. She resists the urge to roll her eyes—again—her finger tapping against the table in a slow, rhythmic beat, as though she’s waiting for him to get it together. She can practically hear the tick of the clock in the background.

"Okay, wait, I got it," Lando says suddenly, sitting up straighter in his chair. He pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing in what can only be described as mock concern. “Wait… no, I don’t want to have to kiss either of you guys.” He scrunches his face up, clearly not thrilled by the prospect.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. "Wow, and here I was thinking you'd be more concerned with who you'd have to kill."

Lando doesn’t skip a beat. "Well, that’s an easy one. You, for sure." He shrugs casually as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/N’s jaw drops in exaggerated shock. “Me? Well, I’m offended,” she gasps dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if he’s just stabbed her emotionally. She wipes away an imaginary tear for good measure, her tone dripping with mock hurt.

Lando rolls his eyes at the performance. “It’s called flirting, Y/N,” he says, deadpan, though his lips twitch upward.

Y/N smirks, clearly unfazed by his response. “Well, you’re not very good at it,” she retorts, her voice thick with sass. There’s no hiding the playful edge in her tone, but also no missing the fact that she’s not taking this seriously—she’s enjoying every second of it.

Lando bites back a laugh, but it’s obvious from the way his cheeks flush that her words have gotten to him. “Okay, well, I could say the same thing about you,” he deflects, leaning back a little in his chair, his arms crossed defensively.

Y/N arches an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "Sure, Lando.”

Lando looks straight at the camera, his face now the picture of exaggerated deadpan. He gives it a slow, knowing look, as though he's on an episode of The Office. The camera cuts just as he’s about to crack, leaving a lingering sense of humour in the air.

♡

"What's your go-to line? You know, when you're asking people out?" Lando asks, his voice taking on a playful tone, like he’s now the one in charge of the conversation. It feels like the roles have completely reversed, and he’s the one interrogating Y/N, as if he’s suddenly the expert on relationships.

Y/N pauses for a moment, clearly weighing the question. She tilts her head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she considers her answer. “I don’t really have one,” she says, her voice casual, almost nonchalant. “I just sort of look at them and hope that they’re braver than I am.”

Lando’s eyes light up with interest, clearly not satisfied with such a vague answer. “Okay, but how do you look at them?” He leans forward, his hands resting on the table as he eyes her like a curious detective. “C’mon, I need details.”

Y/N raises her hands in protest, then immediately bursts into laughter, the sound bright and infectious. She leans back in her chair, shoulders shaking as she tries to contain her amusement. Lando, on the other side of the table, is wiggling his eyebrows in exaggerated motion, clearly trying to make this into something ridiculous.

“Like this? Or is it more like this?” he asks, giving a dramatic wink in her direction, and the sheer ridiculousness of it makes Y/N’s eyes widen in disbelief. Her laughter grows louder; her face flushed from both amusement and the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“No!” she gasps between fits of laughter, barely able to catch her breath. “If that’s how you pick up girls, I feel bad for them. You look like you’re constipated or something.”

Lando’s face falls in mock pain as if she’s actually physically wounded him. “Okay, ouch,” he says, wincing like she’s just landed a punch right to his ego. His hand presses dramatically to his chest, as though trying to recover from the blow.

Y/N grins, her expression turning teasing as she looks at him with mock sympathy. “Sorry, someone had to let you know.” She throws him a playful, exaggerated sympathetic glance, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I appreciate your honesty,” Lando nods solemnly, his face adopting a mock-serious expression, though the hint of a smile is barely contained.

“You’re welcome,” Y/N replies, the sarcasm dripping from her voice, but there's something in her tone that’s genuinely warm beneath the teasing.

Lando leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, looking as if he’s about to offer some unsolicited advice. “No, but I think that’s good, you know? Staring at someone creepily from the other side of the room…” he trails off, nodding as if he’s figured it all out, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Y/N exhales sharply, the sound half exasperated, half amused. “Okay, asshat, it’s not like that.” She shifts slightly in her seat, clearly about to set the record straight. “It’s like this…” she says, her voice softening as she looks at him.

In an instant, the playful banter between them fades away. Y/N locks eyes with Lando, her gaze intense, focused, and completely unbroken. The shift in energy is palpable, almost magnetic, as though the entire world around them has melted away. Even the camera crew seems to hold their breath, unsure whether they’re witnessing something deeper or just a clever game between friends.

The moment stretches, lingering, neither of them breaking the gaze, their eyes speaking volumes that words can’t quite capture. There’s a sweetness in the silence—endearing, even. They’re just two people caught in something unspoken, something real in the quiet between them.

Y/N finally breaks the silence, her voice low and teasing. “Is it working?” she asks, her lips curling up into the smallest of smiles, eyes still locked on his.

Lando’s throat goes dry, and for a moment, he’s completely flustered. His words stumble over themselves, like he’s struggling to find his balance after the intensity of the gaze. “Yes—no, yeah, I can see that working. What’s your success rate so far?” His words come out in a jumbled mess, his neck flushing a deep red as his usual confidence falters under the weight of the moment.

Y/N, still holding the teasing glint in her eyes, leans in just slightly. “I don’t know, you tell me,” she says, the playful challenge still present in her tone.

Lando hesitates for a moment, clearly caught in the spell of the conversation. “100%,” he finally declares, his voice filled with a mix of playful confidence and something softer beneath it, like he’s genuinely caught off guard by the chemistry between them.

The camera cuts before Y/N can react.

♡

"You can only save one," Y/N says dramatically, holding out both hands as if she’s about to present him with a life-altering decision. “A puppy or a kitten. Which one are you saving?”

Lando freezes, his eyes widening in horror, like she’s just asked him to choose between his own limbs. “Okay, well this is just unfair,” he says, his voice dripping with mock betrayal. His lower lip juts out in a dramatic pout, as if he’s already the victim of some great injustice.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her tone unwavering. “You have to pick one.”

Lando’s face crumples as if the weight of the decision might crush him. “No, I can’t,” he whines, flailing his hands in the air dramatically. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be!” Y/N lets out a long sigh, clearly bored of the theatrics. She picks up a fry from the plate in front of her casually, like the fate of two helpless animals isn’t hanging in the balance. “Just pick one already,” she mutters, eyeing him with mild annoyance.

Lando leans back in his chair, his face scrunched in concentration as if he’s making the toughest decision of his life. “Okay… the puppy,” he finally says, almost reluctantly, as if he’s just betrayed a sacred pact. From across the table, Y/N gasps dramatically, clutching her chest as though he’s just committed the ultimate crime. “You’re a monster,” she says, her voice teetering between mock outrage and genuine shock.

Lando’s eyes widen as if he’s just been slapped. “Wait, no! I didn’t mean it like that,” he backpedals, panic setting in. “Okay, okay, fine—then the kitten.” He raises his hands in defeat, clearly hoping this will solve everything. Y/N glares at him, arms crossed with a smug satisfaction. “So, you’d just let the puppy die? Wow, you’re heartless.” She shakes her head slowly, the disappointment practically radiating off of her.

Lando looks at the camera crew behind the lens as though they might somehow come to his rescue. “What!? This is so unfair,” he whines, gesturing wildly for support. “I think you’re the real monster here.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her voice sweet but laced with sarcasm. “You really know how to flatter a person on a first date.” She pulls a sour face; her eyes narrowed in judgment.

Lando shrugs dramatically, rolling his eyes in the most exaggerated way possible. “Says the professional manipulator,” he fires back, smirking triumphantly—but then he immediately regrets it as he sees her narrowing eyes.

Y/N folds her arms, her gaze turning icy, the perfect picture of judgment. “What did you just call me?” she asks, her tone low and dangerously amused.

Lando takes a sip of his drink, trying to regain his composure—but it’s already too late. Y/N’s staring at him like she’s about to deliver the final blow. Lando winces, nearly choking on his drink. “Too far, I’m sorry,” he admits, holding up a hand in apology, though the mischief in his eyes betrays him.

“Yeah, that’s right, be sorry,” Y/N says with a satisfied smile, crossing her arms smugly. Lando, trying to regain some ground, mimics her earlier words in a high-pitched voice. “You really know how to flatter someone on a first date,” he says, holding his hands up defensively as if he’s the victim now.

Y/N glares at him, her eyes narrow and unyielding. “Your words, not mine,” he adds quickly, but the tension evaporates as soon as the words leave his mouth. It’s clear they’re both just enjoying the banter, and it’s impossible not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

The atmosphere lightens as they both burst out laughing, the infectious sound filling the space between them. The camera captures the moment, lingering on their laughter, as if the whole world is invited into the little bubble they’ve created. The camera cuts, but this time, it’s a softer transition—no harshness, no rush. It’s just a brief, perfect pause, leaving the warmth of the moment hanging in the air.

♡

"Okay, important question," Y/N says, leaning forward slightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she casually pops a hot chip into her mouth. “What would you rate your flirting skills out of 10?”

Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing in deep thought. “Okay, wait, let me think,” he mumbles, his hand rising to his chin like he’s pondering the meaning of life itself. The silence stretches on for a moment too long, and Y/N raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Do you usually take this long to think about things?” she asks, her voice dripping with judgment, though the amusement is obvious.

Lando leans back in his chair, feigning deep contemplation. “Do you usually insult people as a way of flirting?” he shoots back, leaning forward with a mock serious expression. They exchange a quick glance, a silent challenge hanging in the air. Y/N can’t help but play along. “Was it that obvious?” she responds, her grin widening as she leans back into her chair, ready for whatever comes next.

Lando can’t hold back a grin of his own. “Yes,” he says, shaking his head as if he’s just seen the greatest performance of the evening. “Okay, I got it,” he announces, his posture shifting as he places his hands dramatically in front of him, ready to drop his verdict.

��Alright, I’m all ears,” Y/N replies, clapping her hands together, leaning back as if settling in for the most epic answer she’s about to hear.

“A solid 12,” Lando begins, his voice full of confidence. “But I subtract 5 points for social anxiety, and another 2 for sweating through my shirt.” He shrugs as if this is the most reasonable answer anyone could give. Y/N raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “I find the social anxiety part hard to believe,” she teases, a playful challenge in her voice.

Lando shrugs again, his grin never fading. “Me too,” he admits, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N takes a sip of her drink, still processing the absurdity of his response. “So… you're like a solid 5?” she concludes, lowering the cup from her lips. Lando, without missing a beat, nods in agreement. “Yeah, but like a confident, aggressive, average 5,” he explains, leaning back as if he’s just made the most profound statement of all time.

Y/N nearly spits her drink out, her eyes wide with disbelief. She sets her drink down with dramatic flair. “That’s the most honest thing a man’s ever said to me,” she says coolly, as if she’s just heard a confession of the highest order.

Lando smirks, clearly unbothered. “Wow, that’s not concerning at all,” he hums, the sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.

Y/N leans in with a wicked grin. “Incredible,” she muses. “You’re like a red flag with a weird amount of charm.”

Lando leans forward with a knowing look. “You’re like if sarcasm came in a cute little package, labelled ‘Do Not Open,’ and ignores my texts for fun.”

Y/N laughs softly, her grin widening. “I’m flattered, but who says I’m texting you back at all?” she shoots back, the words dripping with teasing amusement. Lando raises both eyebrows, confidence practically radiating off him. “Oh, I’m sure you will,” he says with a wink, as if he’s already won.

“Yep, that’s that overly confident 5 kicking in,” Y/N hums, shaking her head in mock disbelief. She takes another sip of her drink, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Lando’s jaw drops, and he looks to the camera crew for help, as though they could somehow intervene and save him from this onslaught of teasing. “HEY—”

But before he can get another word out, the camera cuts again, leaving the moment hanging in the air, the playful tension between them palpable.

♡

“So why are you single?” Y/N hums from across the table, the question hanging in the air. It’s obvious that Lando’s used to her out-of-pocket questions by now, but this one seems to hit differently. Lando leans back, raising an eyebrow as if she’s just asked him to solve world peace. “That’s a very bold question,” he points out, clearly impressed by her audacity.

“I’m curious,” she shrugs, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world to ask someone why they’re single.

“Not because you're interested, right?” Lando teases, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Y/N shakes her head, but it’s the most unconvincing “no” she’s ever given.

“No. Definitely not,” she says, but her eyes... her eyes betray her. There's a starry look in them that no one can miss, not even herself. Lando catches the slip-up, but he doesn’t say anything, leaning in slightly. “So? Why are you single then?” she presses, her voice rising slightly with mock curiosity.

Lando dramatically sighs, throwing a hand over his heart as if burdened by the weight of the question. “Because society fears men with amazing haircuts,” he declares with a shrug, as if he’s just unlocked the meaning of life. “It’s really that simple.”

Y/N winces from across the table, her eyes narrowing. “I was going to say commitment issues, but that works too,” she quips, a teasing smirk forming on her lips.

Lando rolls his eyes, clearly unbothered by her jab. “Okay, the truth? I only date people who make me feel like I’m in a cute movie or something,” he admits with a dramatic flourish. Y/N leans in, her grin mischievous. “Do I?” she hums, her voice just the right amount of playful. Lando’s expression falters for a second as she looks up at him, a confidence in her gaze that catches him off guard. It’s clear he’s not as used to it as he’d like to think.

“Wow,” he laughs nervously, “bold questions are just shooting out of you right now, huh?”

“What can I say?” Y/N shrugs casually, her eyebrows wiggling in mock innocence. Lando runs a hand through his hair, a chuckle escaping him as he tries to maintain composure. “I feel like you’d be the love interest and the sarcastic narrator,” he muses in amused disbelief.

“Multi-talented. I’m just amazing,” Y/N responds, a careless shrug accompanying her words like she’s casually announcing she invented fire. From across the table, Lando seems distracted, his gaze following Y/N. “Whatever you say,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. The camera zooms in slightly, capturing the playfulness between them—before the scene cuts abruptly, leaving the lingering energy between them to hang in the air.

♡

“If I was the last person on Earth, would you date me?” Y/N asks, leaning back slightly with a mischievous glint in her eyes, watching Lando carefully.

Lando, who’s been laughing and joking nonstop for the last ten minutes, suddenly straightens up, clearly deciding to take this question seriously. He takes a moment to “think,” his brow furrowing as if he’s weighing the fate of humanity. “Only after I build a shelter, farm some crops, and manage to survive long enough to get the necessary survival skills,” he says, nodding slowly as if this is the most practical answer in the world.

Y/N, clearly impressed with his reasoning, tilts her head and grins. “Wow, I love a man with stability,” she says with an approving nod. “But what if I say no?”

Lando shrugs nonchalantly, still in full serious mode. “Then I die alone,” he states matter-of-factly, “Possibly in front of you, for full effect, you know?” Y/N hums thoughtfully, her lips curving into a playful smile. “That’s not dramatic at all,” she replies, clearly amused by his over-the-top answer. Lando pulls a sour face in mock offense, but before he can say anything else, the camera cuts away, letting the playful tension linger.

♡

Lando leans in, the smirk on his face unmistakable. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or do I need to walk past again?” he asks, sending her a wink that could melt glaciers. Y/N, however, doesn’t seem to be moved by his charm. “Please don’t,” she says dryly, her voice unimpressed, “Once was enough.”

Lando pauses, clearly unsure whether that’s a yes or a no. “So, that’s a no?” he asks, as if he’s trying to gauge the temperature of the situation. Y/N looks him dead in the eye and replies, “That’s a ‘try harder.’”

Lando, clearly up for the challenge, clears his throat dramatically, ready for round two. “Okay, okay…” He pauses as if he’s about to drop the smoothest line ever. “If you were a sauce, you’d be extra hot and slightly intimidating.” He flashes a grin at her, clearly proud of his creativity. Y/N, unbothered and clearly not easily impressed, nods slowly. “Smooth,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Flattery and emotional damage? I’m impressed.”

Lando grins at her, his confidence soaring. “Why thank you,” he says with a mock bow, clearly pleased with his work.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but the playful banter between them is undeniable. The camera cuts again, just as the energy between them reaches its peak.

♡

"If we ever dated, we'd crash and burn in a week."

"Yep, but it would be hilarious."

"I'm so glad you agree."

"It would also be tragically funny."

"The best kind."

“Absolutely.”

The video ends.

a/n: tysm for reading! i hope you enjoyed, likes and reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated, stay safe xoxo suji :)

taglist: @curlylando

[cloveroctobers]

act right | Elias “STACK” Moore x black! Reader

A/N: I thought I might dabble in some mess that involves stack idk. This is a toxic moment!!!!! but you definitely have to be if stack is your type…or are you gonna fix him? 😆

Synopsis: in which reader finds it entertaining that stack is back in town and in her face, thinking you’re about to spin the block again. He must have forgotten who tf you are.

WARNINGS: language/minor usage of the N-word, mentions of violence, cheater!stack, side chicks and shit talking, built past relationship, most of reader’s background is based off of Katherine Dunham, & this was honestly a quick write on this cloudy weekend but I hope y’all like it?

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃

It’s truly an art, pretending that you don’t see someone staring at you. There were so many people in the juke joint, many old and new faces that you didn’t mind chatting with, after Annie made you one of the best Bee’s Knees you ever had. You had no doubts about it, considering the two of you had quite the bond especially when it came to events such as these.

Usually you had no issue blending into the room and once comfortable you made effort to socialize. And usually that always ended up with you on the dance floor, you being nicknamed as, “QOD, Queen of Dance,” who always seemed to take the lead once all eyes were on you. There were many years where you were forced to be held back, shield your gift and be what your parents wanted you to be. When they found out that you opened up your own dance school just in your teens, where you spent majority of your time after school instead of helping down at the struggling local newspaper shop, your family couldn’t be more than livid.

Little did they know by you opening up this school, helped contribute to expenses but it also brought on some guilt after your brother was left alone to run the newspaper stand by the trains, which led to him being paralyzed and wheelchair bond for the rest of his life. The hate in this world is a motherfucker and regardless if you were there or not when those events transpired, it still could have happened.

These were the times you were expected to live in.

People don’t understand that some brains can be delayed but that doesn’t mean your brother was a bad person or deserved what he got. He was one of the main ones who was proud to see you dance and told you that you could always be more than what momma and daddy wanted you to be. So? You kept on dancing.

Until you felt hands on your hips, facial hair prickling the side of your neck. His front pressing into the shape of your backside so easily he felt like he belonged there. You halted your movements, hearing his voice over the blues.

“Girl you sure do look good as hell,” he comments trailing his lips up the side of your neck breathing you in, “I’ve been looking around town for you but somehow I knew you’d find your own invitation.”

Your hands touch his and shove them from your body, you spin to face him with fire in your blood. Stack looks the same as you always remembered him, a handsome yet dangerous darkness that you didn’t sign up for.

“I’m not here to support you if that’s what you’re thinkin’,” you go back to swaying your hips and Stack can’t help but to run his tongue over his bottom lip, “I came here to dance.”

Stack laughs lowly, rough like gravel and like the texture of his hands. That same hand runs at his jaw as he watches the way you move without a care in the world, as if it wasn’t easy to gain an audience.

“Is that right?” His hand reaches forward again but even with your eyes closed, you reach out just in time to smack his hand away. Stack hissed with a shake of his hand, “…See you can do all that but you and I both know, you would much prefer to dance on me.”

Your eyes rolled open at that, stopping your movements as you peered over at him underneath the yellow light. Your hand goes right to your hip, where his hand should be but he lost that right. Lost that right when he lied saying you weren’t his first thought when he got to Chicago. You went out there to pursue your dream career whereas he went out there with Smoke to make money and fuck shit up.

That’s not what he intended to do with you.

There was a time where you believed Stack did love you but you would never be someone’s second thought.

A cold smile passes over your full lips, “Oh Elias…you think if I let you dick me down on this ol’ dance floor things will be forgiven? We had our fun in Chi-Town and you had even more with your hussies out there. Even gave one of them the ring that belongs to me and now you want to be in my face thinking shit is sweet? You should go play with Mary who’s over there lookin’ as if she could throw a tornado our way…she always did put up with your fuck shit better than me.”

Stack’s jaw ticked out of frustration. He didn’t need you to bring up old shit right now, not when he was already having a good night with the vibe of success in the air. When he spotted you, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Wouldn’t. He should have known coming over here wouldn’t be easy…something you never were. Stack ignored Smoke who told him, “If you go over there, you might want to Bob to the left since her hook’s always been sharp.”

It wouldn’t be the first time you took your frustration out on somebody. Obviously it wasn’t always the best choice and you knew when to apologize when you knew the person behind your wrath didn’t deserve it.

Elias Moore was a whole another story.

“I don’t give a damn about her right now,” Stack stepped to you but you didn’t flinch just folded your arms with a smirk on your mouth, “I’m talking to your ass. And I know you missed me as much as I missed you, sweetheart.”

“What gave you that idea?” You laugh, “Every call I never returned? I was too busy living life, just like you.”

Stack’s known all about your adventures after Chicago. From Martinique to Jamaica and Trinidad. His gut was telling him then to follow you, he should have followed you all over the world but his ego got the best of him. He even came to a few of the shows, tucked away in the dark corners of the theatre and felt like he was the loudest of applauses. He was sure you could pinpoint him out as you curtesy at the end of the shows, even thought about sending you flowers but felt like that would be doing too much. Especially when you caught him with one of the other dancers in the hallway.

He sniffs, fingers flexing at his sides, “You cant live no damn life without thinkin’ of me.”

There goes that ego again.

A scoff of a laugh flies out of your mouth, hand going to rest against your cheek afterwards as you peek into the anger on his face, just as you would when surveying one of the his drink’s you would always sample first before handing it over to him, much to his annoyance.

“If you really think that then I’m really about to break your heart, boo.” It’s your turn to step even closer to him, “You come and go out of my life as much as you please. What’s the harm in me doing the same?”

His teeth are flashing at you now, gold grill glistening beneath his beautiful smile. “You always did know how to knock a man off his feet.”

Your head tilts to the side, eyes almost glancing around his frame, just knowing what he was referring to. You shot him in the ass after you found out from some friends that he fucked Mary in the back of his car one night. At that point the both of you were just friends but…he should have never shown up and got in the way when you were letting out your frustrations! You claimed you were aiming for his leg once you got back into bed with him weeks later but the both of you knew better.

“And you always knew how to make love hurt.”

Something shifted inside of Stack at your snapping words just then.

It was no secret that stack hurt you.

When he was able to sit alone with his feelings and look back on it all, he knew he fucked up. There were times where he just felt like his brain did more than his heart would allow him. He knew you deserved better but ultimately he felt like nobody else deserved you more than him.

“Whatchu want a sorry?” Stack clasped his hands in front him, guard up, “Will that get you to stop acting so stank and admit that you’re not gonna find anybody that loves you more than me?”

You’re shaking your head now, “Fuck your sorry, Stack. Especially since you think that’s enough. I just wanted you to act right and you never could.”

Your hands softly trail against his chest and his breath hitches, tempted to watch your hands skillfully dance across his broad chest but like he said, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. That moment of tenderness is brief as you shove him back, actually making him budge.

That makes a cruel smile past over your features, knowing you got him in a trance as you step around him, ready to bump shoulders with him but he side steps you. His hand shoots out to grip your wrist, turning you roughly back to him. He pulls you tight against his frame, making sure you’re nose to nose as you stumble. You’re breathing him in when you want to keep him out.

His mouth is open like he’s got something smart to say but his heart is the soundtrack in his ears instead of the harmonica now.

“If you don’t have anything else to waste my time with, then you best unhand me before I make you a new headline, Elias.” You say into his face, eyes strong and bold on his whiskey hues.

Stack’s grip slackens, very slowly because he still wants to have a hold on you. You’ve always liked your personal space and it took time for you to open up to him just as him with you. Maybe he shouldn’t be holding on if he didn’t know how to do it right or the way that you needed.

Just giving you the inch, you slip out of his touch, that lingers as it glides over your bare back in that low-cut dress. A wink is sent his way, making him twitch and let a sickening grin appear over his own face, although he knew you were far from joking, ready to set it off at any given time just like him—although you claimed to be a changed woman using forms of dance as the best outlet—Stack still knew you even if you thought he wasn’t shit.

You even shoo him away, yelling over the music, “Why don’t you get you one of those sidecars from Annie? Maybe that’ll uplift your spirits because it damn sure won’t be from me.”

And with that being said Stack had to swallow that as he watched you again, slipping through the bodies, dancing with a few on your way by, before finding another stranger to sink your body into. A scowl is on Stack’s face now, as your hips swung left and right while another nigga buried his face in what should be his.

Rightfully.

He promised he wouldn’t cause a scene tonight and he would keep his cool but he remembered faces. That nigga wouldn’t be allowed back in this spot ever again after disrespecting him. Once he was able to get moving again, he tapped one of his boys, pointing out some red dude that had his hands on you for his men to take care of some time tonight.

While he leaned against the bar with Annie giving him a knowing glance which he held his hand up to before she slid him a sidecar—without that decorative shit on the side of the glass she tried to give him last time during one of your birthday parties—Stack couldn’t help but to wonder if you’d ever dance his way again but deep down he already knew the answer.

Yet everybody that knew Stack was aware that he was hardheaded. Once he set his sights on something, he knew how to be persuasive…in his own way. It was his turn to smile behind the rim of the glass as he watched two of his men snatch the red man away from you as you twirled from his grasp, hands up in the air, briefly distracted from their attack.

When you turned back to the missing man, a look of confusion passed over your face before you shrugged, moving through the remaining crowd to plop down next to Sammie, who sported his own guitar lounging by the stage.

Some heartaches you freestyle around, twisting and turning, and some you drink through—and some may just cause you to bleed out.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃

FIN.

[mywritersmind]

MYSTERY KISSER - FC43

summary : You didn’t expect your ex to be there. You’re on a girls night out, trying to forget the cheater! Spontaneity is supposed to be on the list. You check it off one drink in when you grab a random man and ask him to kiss you.

listen up : i missed writing for franco omg!! kissing! fun and short! no part two

words : 1061

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Oh shit.” you almost scream, looking at the man you’ve been avoiding for the past two weeks, “Shit!” You lied. Said you were out on date because you don’t need his cheating ass!

Well, two drinks in your hand and your girls around you, it’s obvious you’re not on a date.

He has his arm around a girl. He had made countless burner accounts just to beg you to come back- and now, after saying he’d be wallowing in his apartment all night, his hand is gripping some redhead’s ass.

“Fuck.” You hand the drinks to your friends, obviously panicking as they try to reassure you. Three years! Three years you had given to this asshole and here he is, doing the same thing he’d done when you were wishing he’d call you back. “Fuck that!”

Your friends try calling after you, yelling your name a bit too loud. The noise is drowned out by the pounding in your ears and the heavy club music.

You grab the first guy you see, “Kiss me!?” Yelling over the music, the man, who has a drink in his hand and a raised brow over his surprising green eyes, looks at you.

For a split second, regret fills you. And then… he grins. “Okay.” His hand slips to your waist, fulfilling your request without another word.

His lips hit yours in a rush of adrenaline and alcohol, warmth overtaking every inch of your skin. Your hand grabs the back of his neck, possessively matching how his hold tightens on you. His friends cheer and whistle, nothing more than a buzz in your ear as he slips his tongue in your mouth and you feel the sharp sense of biting on your lower lip.

You might not know the man but hell, after knowing the feeling of his lips overpowering yours, you definitely want to.

The kiss deepens and every thought of your ex disappears in the muggy club air. You feel his other hand brushing against you but it’s occupied by a drink, the condensation touching your bare skin the same second he grabs your ass.

He dips down a little, catching a breath of air as he locks your lips again. He’s smiling.

His hand is on your lower back now, his touch an afterthought that sends chills throughout your body. He mumbles something- something unintelligible and in a language you don’t understand and then… you’re practically ripped apart by the sudden flash of cool liquid hitting him in the side of his head.

You both swear, looking up at the reason why he’s drenched in- vodka?

Your ex stands there, empty cup and all. “You fucking cunt knew I was here-” He takes one step closer to you before getting pushed back by your mystery kisser.

“Watch out.” He has an accent, thick and currently filled with hate, “Back up, yeah?” To your surprise, he does.

Your ex’s face is burning, shooting his gaze back to you, “Little slut went running to the first man she could find-” The mystery man takes a step towards him but you push yourself in front, slapping your ex across his face.

“Slut!? We’re name calling now? I have plenty for you! Whore, Cheater, Dickhead, Asshole, Cheater-” You emphasize the last repeated word, getting in his face only to be slid back by two hands firmly on your waist.

They don’t move, even when your body is pressed to his, “Fuck off.” His voice is hard, serious. “Leave.” Some of the guys around back him up, swearing and egging your ex on.

You look up at him, arms crossed and expression unmoving. When he realizes you aren’t going to say anything else, he scoffs, throwing the cup on the ground and turning to go.

“Thanks for the drink, Mate!” The man behind you says it like a laugh, your ex turning sharply only to get pushed back by two men you don’t recognize. “You alright?”

You almost don’t realize he’s talking to you, he moves your hair out of your face, alcohol still splattered on you. “Yeah… Are you?”

He shakes his head, his brunette waves getting rid the drink like a wet dog. He looks up at you, still unanswered, but he just smiles again.

He’s got a damn good smile. In fact, he’s got a damn good face. “I’m Franco.” He holds out his hand, the limb barely fitting in between you two.

Hm. Franco. “Y/n.” You nod, “Sorry for earlier-“

“You’re sorry?” His eyebrows raise, “I’m sorry. I would have kissed you better than that if I knew your cheater ex was here.”

You almost laugh, the idea so wild that for a second, you’re rendered speechless, “Better than that?”

Franco likes this, properly grinning now. “Of fucking course this happens to you-” a curly haired brit says on the side.

A sudden blush finds your cheeks, remembering the proximity you are to his friends. Franco shakes his head, his hand back onto your hip and oddly steadying you. “They’re just jealous that beautiful girls don’t kiss them to make ex’s jealous.”

Your lips pull into a line, rushing over the ‘beautiful’ part, “I really wasn’t thinking I just saw him and-”

“Hey! Don’t worry, love.” The nickname makes your throat tighten, “If being used gets me a hot kiss and a conversation with you… I think I'm okay with that.”

“Looks like I picked well then.” You nod, biting back a smile and dragging a hand through his damp hair, “The drink is a shame though...”

He shrugs, licking his lips, “His money… tastes cheap anyways. Let me buy you a drink?”

You shake your head, overwhelmed at how quickly this night escalated, “Honestly after that, I should buy you one.”

He looks physically disgusted at this, “Ay… no. Don’t even joke about that. That kiss alone deserves its own bottle.”

You laugh freely now, leaning into him, “I like your accent.”

His eyes light up, his mouth slightly parted in a smirk as you close the distance once again, “I like you.”

“You don’t even know me, Franco!”

He bites his lip, his eyes flicking to yours, “I have a feeling I will soon.” You let him kiss you again, he’s slower now, more calculated, tasting like straight vodka. What doesn’t change is his smile against your reddened lips.

[millysastroblog]

RANDOM ASTRO NOTES PT.2 🎋

🎋People with Mars conjunct/Square or opposite Jupiter can have a inflated sense of ego and pride just like Sun/Jupiter aspects (especially men since mars has a stronger and dominant energy in their charts)

🎋Tell me why every Aries Sun be waking faster than then wind ?😂 # you are to fast

🎋People with Taurus and Virgo mixed Placements are the most humble grounded individuals to exist they just exude „ZEN“🍃

🎋People with 1st house placement can sometimes feel left out or stand out from the crowd due to the focus being directed on their individuality and presence

SIDE CHICK INDICATORS:

🎋Venus square/ opposite Neptune ( lacking boundaries)

🎋Neptune in the 7th ( unreliable partners )

🎋Venus in the 12th (secret affair and relationships)

🎋Mars in the 12th (hidden sexual relationships)

🎋Venus / Chiron (low self worth)

🎋Venus Square /opposite/ conjunct Lilith ( lustful attraction to unconventional, shocking secret things like a married person )

🎋Mars conjunct Lilith (secrecy and power dynamics turn them on )

🎋 Venus conjunct /Square Uranus (unpredictable love life’s and entanglements )

🎋Lilith/ Pluto in the 9th house ppl can be scared of taking flights, traveling to foreign countries

🎋Sun/ Pluto aspects might be scared of their fathers or have huge respect for them 🫡

🎋Venus conjunct Chiron synastry: trauma bonding relationship vs. healing relationship

🎋Capricorn MC have a reputation of being the GOAT after their hard work has paid off

🎋Venus conjunct Jupiter is usually seen in charts of woman who marry wealthy partners

🎋Mars square asc look fierce

🎋Pluto Square asc look alluring, mysterious and dangerous

🎋 Moon in Scorpio/Moon conjunct Pluto stare intensely on pictures and camera angels

🎋While moon in Pisces/Moon/ Neptune placement look away or their eyes wonder to the the ceiling, they look sleepy, sweet and in another world

🎋Moon in cancer have doll eyes with little sparkles, round like the moon and comforting to look at

🎋A lot of child actress have Neptune influence on their Moon or IC

🎋Saturn in the 1st house have visible oval nostril where their nose kind of looks pointed and straight

🎋Mercury square Jupiter makes somone who doesn’t have a filter or lacks in reading the room they probably over share and reveal to much information

🎋Mercury/ Neptune aspects can misconstrued, antagonize, change information or get very confused, they also posses very imaginative creative mind that could inspires other people

🎋Moon/ Mercury have an internal need to express their feelings through their voice they are very emotionally intelligent and speak with their heart. They have a hard time taking critique and will voice their opinions whenever they feel like it

🎋Lilith /Mars in Pisces woman can be a unknown sugar baby or trad wife placement since they use illusion, charm and fantasy to get what they want (if they play smart and don’t get carried away)

🎋7th house in the 4th can show an family arrangement marrige or both peoples family being heavily involved in their marriage/ engagement

🎋Pluto/8th house synastry/Composite makes for an unforgettable relationship especially if both people have it. The separation is very painful and takes time to heal

🎋Saturn/ Pluto in the 6th house need to take care of their health, body, routine more than the average person, if not they will have to face harsh consequences

🎋Cancer mixed Leo Placements gives either a neutral balanced personality or drama queen they embody the most authentic expression off themselves and won’t hide for anything and anybody #period

🎋Venus in the 10th has a similar effect as Venus in the 1st house

🎋Venus/ Chiron hard aspects can usually show cheating and betrayal in a chart

Venus conjunct Chiron = being cheated on

Venus square Chiron = being the cheater

Venus opposite Chiron = vise versa

(Pls take it with a grain of salt, it doesn’t have to apply to you)

🎋People with harmonious aspected moons are emotionally stable and regulated, empathetic and understand people needs and emotionall nature

🎋People with Harmonious aspected Jupiter carry a sunshine energy everywhere they go and attract plenty people and opportunities towards them -> positive optimistic mindset -> Luck 🍀

🎋Aries mixed Cancer Placements = unhinged crash- out, impatient, anger issues, very loyal and protective, uncontrollable emotions, lovely and nice to the people that are close to them

🎋Libra mixed Virgo Placements = fashionista, life style influencers, perfectionist, good cooks, enjoy finer things with an hint of detail and excellent observation skills, a bit judgmental, very very very helpful people

🎋Scorpio mixed Virgo Placements = psychotic (just joking 😂), natural detectives and truth seekers, extremely intelligent people, literally know everything, extreme control issues and can be obsessive and a bit creepy when they like somebody, once trust is gained they are number one supporters for life

🎋Gemini mixed Capricorn Placements = Aloof (weirdly give Aquarius or Virgo vibes?) , Logical thinkers, like to think outside the box , can also be very responsible, less inclined to open up about emotions and would rather joke about them. Less lighthearted but also less serious, truthful and honest people

Thx for reading 🫶🏽

•~Milly~•

©2025 millysastroblog All Rights Reserved

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Part 2 to Life Line

(I ain't) Sorry

Pairing: cheater!Price x wife!reader

CW: infidelity. angst. idk is price a cuck now? 18+

Middle fingers up, put them hands high. Wave it in his face, tell him, boy bye (sorry). Tell him, boy bye (sorry) boy bye. Middle fingers up, I ain't thinking 'bout you.

It's been six months since the new rules of John Price's marriage had been established. In public, he is still Captain John Price, a fearless leader, highly decorated, and on track to be a major. John Price was thought to have it all. Two gorgeous children, a darling little girl named Iyana aged six and a charming baby boy named Jackie aged four (who everyone says looks like John made him in the same fashion as a sea sponge. That is to say, through asexual reproduction because they look so much alike).

To top it all off, he had a gorgeous and smart wife who worked with a notable contractor that dealt with information gathering, sorting, and code breaking. Said to be highly requested and sought after to work with military operations, both official and private military based.

Yes, Captain John Price to the public eye, had it all. Despite the blood on his hands, the blackness on his soul and actions, the Lord above gave him a loving family. He was always the man of the hour when he walked into a room.

Right now, though, he didn't feel like a man of the hour that he was thought to be. Right now, he watches his daughter pedal her little pink bike around the front driveway. Her hair ribbons are lopsided, giggles echoing on the wind. It almost sounds and feels like a dream. She's got light up fairy wings, a fairy dress, and tiara, all high-quality custome made in an array of colors and gem stones. It's cute. He thinks it is cute, and it makes his little girl happy. What he can't stand, however, are the pink and white rhinestone cowboy boots. They cost a pretty penny, and she wears them everywhere. She wears them with every outfit.

John hates it. Or better yet, he hates where these items come from.

His son, while he has always been easily pleased, has particularly enjoyed his little hobby horse toy. The saddle has his name painted on the side in deep blue letters that stand out against the deep brown wood.

John hates the damn horse toy and also hates the suspected origins. Both of these things are reminders that his marriage is on the rocks and that it's a reflection of his mistakes. Another man buying his children toys. He has little doubt that it is the same man he is forced to work with.

He leans against the support beam of the front porch, cigar to his lips. He was watching his daughter and keeping also keeping an ear out for his son, who slept in the house. The three of them are waiting for the fourth member of the household. A sleek black car pulls up to the house and Iyana abandons her bike to greet the love of John's life.

You.

His darling, sweet, loving wife, who he wouldn't trade for the world. Even if you are being difficult. It doesn't matter though he's sure this tantrum can't go on forever.

Now you wanna say you're sorry. Now you wanna call me cryin'. Now you gotta see me wildin'. Now I'm the one that's lyin'. And I don't feel bad about it. It's exactly what you get. Stop interrupting my grinding. (You interrupt my grinding)

You shut off the car, and the door swings open. Your saccharine voice carries just about your daughter. "My love! I've missed you!" Nimble fingers push sunshades back onto your forehead as you lean down to sweep her up into a hug.

"Do you like my dress? It came in the mail today!" She shouts, "Daddy helped me into it when we got home from school!"

"It's lovely, my love. You look like a pretty fairy princess." Your eyes appraise her dress and accessories appreciatively. When you finally lay your eyes on John, you offer him a polite smile. "John, I'm glad you could get off early to pick the kids up today."

John isn't focused on your words. His eyes are clearly looking you over, desperatewith want. Since the new rules were put in place and boundaries made known, he has made it clear that he misses you. Each time, you reminded him of the rules and that he was allowed to see other people. You watch as his eyes finally land on the space above your cleavage. Right on the dainty gold chain with only one charm on it.

"You didn't wear that to work, did you?" John grumbles as you walk past him.

"John, am I not allowed to wear jewelry now?" You ask, already over this conversation and wear it is about to head to.

"Sweetheart." He still calls you that. The pet name bristles you, but you tolerate it for the sake of your children. "At least grant me the decency of not wearing his bloody branding in public."

"Iyana, go pack your bag for grand mum's and poppop's house." You usher her towards the steps. She dutifully says yeah and how she's packing all of her new little dresses. Finally, alone with him, you turn to face your husband. "Why does it matter, John?"

A deep sigh escapes him, and he's a bit flustered with frustration. You suppose you'd be frustrated, too, if work was hell. And to be clear, it was only hell because of the new long-term assignments he and several different teams were coordinating on. You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting patiently for his answer.

"It matters because it bothers me." He finally gets out, "it causes me to feel upset."

You take note of the carefully chosen words. Efforts of his therapy sessions peaking through. While you still won't go with him, he goes once a week when he isn't deployed. The habit started a month into your new reality. Shortly after, he began to be a more present father to the kids. Family weekends that he plans (which you suspect he does as often as possible to keep you with him), attending parent teacher conferences and evenings, and just generally paying more attention when he is home. It's great for the kids, but it's too little too late for you.

"Okay, John." You dismiss him and make your way to the kitchen with his footsteps following close behind. The conversation is clearly not over for you both.

"Was work fine today? I didn't see you at the all hands meeting on base." He leans against the kitchen island.

"My schedule was packed, so I sent my junior to fill in for me. Another PMC is contacting the company they requested me specifically." You dig around the fridge searching for a snack. His eyes are on you again. They always are these days. Since you reentered the workforce and quickly rose in rank, you've changed. You're more confident, more stern, and have leaned into the feeling of being desirable again by other men and women. Opportunities flowed easier to you. Your former boss had welcomed you back with open arms. Her exact words were something along the lines of "Mrs. Price, it's good to have you back. Now, the numbers can make sense again, and I can prepare to retire!"

John huffs, "Yeah, I saw. Kate was annoyed the entire time with the poor girl. And she was too afraid to work with Simon."

You find a snack and smile. "How is Simon?"

"You should know." He bites back with a bit of force. His blue eyes shift away from you, "You aren't sleeping with my lieutenant, are you?" It's a soft question you almost miss. He almost sounds insecure at the idea of one of his boys looking at you that way. And with the rules that are now in place, there's nothing to stop you but their friendship to him.

"John... Now, why would I do such a thing?" You sneer and then laugh. "There isn't anything going on between me and Simon."

"Then why won't you speak with me on base?" He furrows his brow. "People are literally looking at you two funny." And the 'They're looking at me with concern' is left unsaid.

"Because he is the chosen liason I picked for your team?" The scoff you let out is near comical, "Don't be so vain, John Price. If I was going to sleep with anyone it would be Kyle as he is the only one that apologized for not saying anything sooner about you fucking around behind my back. Maybe Johnny because he's good-looking. Tragic that they both are loyal to you, a skill they picked up from somewhere. "

His face turns red with agitation. His eyes go back to the necklace and the charm around your neck. It's a small, dainty, gold little heart, and when the light catches it, an engraved series of numbers and letters can be seen faintly. "So if not them, then who?"

"You know who. Don't be daft." You shrug your shoulders, "I'm gonna be gone all weekend after we drop the kids off at your parents. So you have the house to yourself."

"I'd much rather prefer we spent time together." He tries and smiles sweetly at you.

"I can't. My friend is dying to spend time with me, and he insists upon it, or he will simply die."

It's a beat of silence for a moment. Before he looks away from you. "Is he the one who sent those gifts to the kids? Which I don't appreciate, by the way."

"No. I'm not seeing him tonigt." You say leaving the kitchen, "Phillip has to go back to the States tonight. Won't be back till three days before you all move out."

"Could you at least tell that fuck to not give my kids gifts. It's rather rude, don't you think?" He glares.

"Phillip didn't give the kids those gifts. He gave me money, and then I got them things they've been asking for."

"And the necklace?" He asks. He almost seems like he doesn't want to know. But he keeps digging the hole deeper.

"From my other boyfriend." You glance over your shoulder at him, "instead of worrying about me and who I'm seeing. You should worry about yourself."

The tension is only cut at the sound of your daughter calling for help. She wants help with closing her backpack up.

That night after you and John played happy family infrint of his parents, the drive back home was tense. A quiet that could be heard from miles away even as the radio played, trying its best to ease both of your nerves. It's subtle, but you notice how his eyes cut to you every so often.

"Sweetheart."

"The kids aren't with us John."

"Don't be difficult please."

Your eyes hurt with how they roll. "What is it John?"

"I want to know when we can give us another try." He asks quietly, "I miss you." He grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. "I don't want you running around that fuck Graves, or whoever else your tend to see. You're my wife and I'm your husband. We should at least try to fix our marriage."

You don't say anything and keep your eyes in the passing scenery. This conversation isn't new. It comes up often and when it does you fight like hell to hold your ground. Another deep sigh and you wait in silence for him to continue.

"I love you, always will and never stopped." He says, and the sentiment is there. The way he says it reminds you of days when you were ignorant to his infidelity.

But then your mind conjures up the rage and hurt you experienced when you first saw what was in that folder the private investigator gave you. The embarrassment you felt when you asked Simon, Kyle and Johnny if they knew. They way that none of them could look you in the eyes for weeks. Or the grief that resurface each time your mind wanders over the memory of how he found someone who was similar to you in appearance from before your first child together.

"John, can we not tonight?" You simply avoid his eyes, "We can still get a divorce or you can deal with the way things are. I'm not revisiting any conversations about us or therapy."

"Are you doing this to hurt me back?" He asks. It's the most direct he's ever been with admitting that his actions hurt you. Before it was always a deflection. He wasn't right in the head after missions, he was trying to cope with the miscarriage, anything but outright saying he was a cheater. The tone of his voice cracks a bit with sorrow, but you don't budge.

"No." You state and turn up the radio, ending the conversation.

The car rolls to a stop in the driveway and you hurry out of the car and into the house. You don't want anymore questions or comments from him about the marriage he ruined. You don't want to deal with any nasty emotions that can't be fixed with the wine and sex that is waiting for you. An hour later you're finishing up packing, the house is quiet. The shrill ring of the doorbell pierces the silence of the house. It takes a moment but you hear John walking around downstairs towards the door. There's a bit of a sick thrill that shivers through you at who you know he will find on the otherside of that door. It won't be Phillip, he had already sent his messages that he would call you when he's back in the states.

You zip up your suitcase, check your hair once more in the mirror. When you get down the steps you're mer with John's more than angry glare that seems more hurt than anything. It's ignored as you pass the living room where he is.

You swing open the door, "Hey sweety."

"Hallo Meine Liebe." You're greeted with a hug from a strong embrace, "I'm hoping the guys will leave us be this weekend. They have been irritating since seeing you today and calling your charm necklace a fancy set of dog tags."

In the living room John closes his eyes as he hears you leave. Your laugh trails on the end of your words. And his heart absolutely aches at the idea of you with another man, much less another one he doesn't really like.

"Kökö, your I.D number is on it. Of course they would say that."

a.n: one more part and then I'm done with this mini series. Thank you all for supporting me.

All Night (final)

[oleryn]

These Are Not Micker Mouse: A breakdown of the Mangoball characters through the lens of Commedia Dell’Arte (by a dramaturg wannabe with too much time on their hands)

In the wake of the Dream SMP’s recent revival brought on by Dream’s latest and greatest tomfoolery, one of the most iconic, unifying, yet hitherto unknown figures of the fandom has finally made themselves known – Mangoball ( @girl-hemingway ), creator of the viral semi-eponymous SocMed AU that took the fandom by storm in 2021-2022. With its cartoonishly zany characters and hilarious one-liners, Mangoball quickly rose the ranks of popular DSMP fanfictions and remains to this day a pleasant, hilarious read that is enjoyable even if you hate the controversial content creators therein. Obligatory fuck the Dteam and Wilbur Soot. Anything good I say about their characters is a positive reflection of Mangoball’s talent and not the content creators themselves. 

In this tumblr post, the author mentions Commedia Dell’arte (16-18th century Italian theatre) as a resource for writing crack fanfiction. That lit my theatre kid neurons up like Tubbo on October 16th, 2020 and so this essay was born. Enjoy my in-depth breakdown of the Mangoball characters through the lens of some of theatre’s most iconic archetypes. however im not a professional and im also not sober so if anything is wrong please just send a bomb to my house or somethingg

NOTE: While some characters or pairings are likened to specific archetypes, most of Mangoball’s characters are a mix of several. 

GLI INNAMORATI - THE LOVERS

This one is obvious. No one in Mangoball’s Cheater Cheater (henceforth known as MB because I’m lazy) embodies the archetype of The Lovers more than its main pairing, Dreamnotfound.

In classic Commedia, the relationship between the Innamorati is the driving force of the entire story. They are often of high status and speak in flamboyant, flowery language; at times, they recite long poetry at length from memory and tend to sing quite often. Brought to foolishness by their hopeless infatuation for one another, the lovers often have no other personality traits besides being in love.

In MB, Dream and George are the hapless romantic leads fraught with drama and miscommunication that threatens to tear them apart. Their dialogue to and about each other borders on incomprehensibly romantic (e.g. goopsie skaboingy, boinky splurge, weeble wobble, skrunkly scribblydoinky bipsy tootsy badointy tiepnsy bip bop boppie goggiy dinty scruggly duggly big bampidointy dougly goopsie scaboinky pipupsy datootsit) and both characters associate themselves with poetry, song and dance, and other lofty forms of prose throughout the work (Dream singing the entire Mama Mia soundtrack after sleeping with George for the first time, reciting Romeo and Juliet sonnets to George despite having never read the play, George texting Quackity the La La Land script line by line by memory). They have little other personality besides the infatuation they hold for each other, but that doesn’t stop them from being enjoyable and hilarious leads that we as readers can’t help but root for.

VECCHI - THE VILLAINS

Though the Italian word Vecchi translates literally to ‘old men’, the Vecchi class of Commedia Dell’Arte characters serve as villains or opponents to the Innamorati. They are usually older characters that use their positions of power for selfish or immoral reasons. This doesn’t translate as clearly to MB as the Innamorati do, but that doesn’t mean that the story is free of Vecchi influences. Sapnap and Tommy are the story’s primary villains – Sapnap for his status as romantic rival to DNF; Tommy for his single-minded hatred of Dream that leads him to create increasingly popular Twitter spaces for the sole purpose of insulting him. Sapnap’s character is marked by his jealousy, his dishonesty, and the continued schemes he pulls to get between the main lovers. He is also the butt of several ratios and is generally regarded as a nuisance. Some of these traits are found in the Pantaleone character – although Sapnap does not possess the miserly money-hungriness that Pantaleone is known for. Anselmo is a lesser-known stock character characterized as a veccho-innamorati, or a romantic rival, but that is the extent of Sapnap’s relation to him. Il Dottore is also sometimes characterized as an adulterer, but like with Pantaleone, Sapnap lacks Dottore’s iconic traits (in his case, being a parody of the educated elite who regularly talks confidently about stuff he knows nothing about and bores the other characters offstage.)

I don’t think any Commedia character possesses such intense hatred for another character as Tommy does for Dream. He’s less of a Vecchi and moreso of a complete foil to the Innamorati – a total and utter hater, largely a flat character beyond his negative feelings for his former Compsci tutor. An Innaodio? That kid will stop at nothing to destroy Dream. I don’t think it’s even explained why Tommy hates him so much beyond his annoyance for Dream’s affections for George. 

Honestly, maybe that’s enough to warrant some hatred.

ZANNI — THE ROOMMATES

Karl, Quackity, Corpse, Wilbur, and the elusive Badboyhalo are all part of the Zanni class of Commedia characters. The Zanni characters are traditionally the low-class servants of the higher-status Vecchi or Innamorati. Usually found in pairs, they are often separated into the silly and buffoonish and then into the cunning, quarrelsome, and conniving. In Mangoball, they’re the roommates/sidekicks of our main leads… apart from Badboyhalo. We’ll get back to him. 

Karl and Quackity are George’s roommates; Corpse is Dream’s. Corpse is a somewhat judgemental watcher of Dream’s antics, not afraid to stir up drama or join Tommy’s hateful lives, and yet remains supportive of him overall. He is also the subject of Wilbur's odd romantic advances. Quackity regularly acts like he wants to actually kill himself over George’s romantic endeavours and regularly threatens the trio with violence or piss-related crimes (e.g. okay but im peeing on the couch!). Karl, as arguably the most rational character of the entire work, is often kinder to George than Quackity is, though his normalcy often leads to him being ridiculed (e.g. the entire group unanimously agreeing that he is the craziest among them for doing such things as eating an orange). Quackity and Karl are also the only ones to break the fourth wall and call out the story for its texting-only medium. In all honesty, they’re too smart (and not horny enough) to fit most of the Zanni archetypes. I would consider them the straight men of the work. Most of their comedy comes from their reactions to what’s going on around them.

Nothing sums up their characters more than this iconic bit:

SPECIAL MENTIONS - WILBUR

The Arlecchino, or Harlequin, archetype is the base for most fool/clown characters that have risen to prominence over the course of history and is a comedic bastion in any Commedia production. Colourful and acrobatic, Arlecchino oscillates between legendary dim-wittedness and a single-minded dedication to achieving his goals. He is often abused by smarter characters, easily distracted by lust and food, and will foray into the complicated, the absurd, and the illegal to get what he wants without a second thought. While what usually sets Arlecchino apart from other Commedia archetypes is his acrobatic prowess, that doesn’t exactly translate well into written prose. 

Mangoball’s Wilbur is a proven criminal, a buffoon, and also implied to be a literal alien. While hardly tolerated by the rest of the crew, he's also responsible for several of Mangoball’s iconic lines. His character is always one step behind the joke (e.g. ‘These are not micker mouse?’ – his inability to understand well-known Disney characters, which he blames on being British) and, at random intervals, acts romantically or sexually towards Corpse without any prompting. His advances go largely rejected or ignored. The other crew members frequently bully him for his antics (e.g. them letting him starve for 20 hours during the road trip) and yet make use of his complete disregard for the law when is beneficial for the plot (e.g. him breaking into a Miami villa and loaning it to two groups simultaneously without realizing). Overall, Mangoball’s Wilbur is integral to highlighting the comedic contrast between the more rational characters and the insane situations they find themselves in. He proves himself as a driving comedic force with the final tweet of the original work.

SPECIAL MENTIONS - BADBOYHALO

fuck if i know genuinely. no one in the history of ever is doing it like him im beign so serious what the ffuck is wrong with him geniunely

he;s fuckign everyones mother. hes eeveryones dad. hes your dad. hes my dad too i thjink. guys i hve to go call my mother rightnow im sorryyyy

[4doras]

CAKE A CHANCE

⤷ taesan was known to be an anti-romantic, no matter how perfect the person was, he'd reject them in record time. but his "im not interested" self seems to melt the moment he finds you.

han taesan x baker!reader

genres & warnings. smau, fluff, y/n is female, death jokes, sexual (?) jokes, profanity

status. complete

taglist. closed

profiles

nice guys

culinary class wars

chapters

0) prologue

1) are you an alphaz too

2) peek a boo

3) monkey hangout

4) NEVER bake with a man

5) jealous little emo

6) Thank You Papa

7) cheaters

8) #lockedin #DATING

9) hi twin

10) holy mackerel

11) on the main??

12) i ain’t reading all dat

13) Dattebayo

14) who is this random

15) pretty girls never cry

16) tackle both of them

17) that makes two of us

18) annoying bf

20) leehan's cuffing season

[sunniepoo]

Omg imagine this rafe x Reader but its a love Island USA au rafe character is like rob and readers well she's like herself shy and awkward different to the confident baddies since reader is only in it for the money since she's a college student (probably round the age of 18-19 or 20) and of course this is gonna contain smut maybe when there in their assigned room.I'm not sure if you've watched it or not so its okay if you don't wanna write it. ❤️

how i imagine love island!rafe

shut up!!!! you match my freak because whenever i watch love island (uk cause your girl is a british babe) i always think about how the obx boys would go about things

ahhh this is less of a drabble but more word vomit but i might do one for each of the boys cause i love this!!

rafe is definitely a bombshell who comes in like within the first couple of weeks. he is immediately very drawn to you just because of your calming presence is such a refresher in the high intensity atmosphere so it really relaxes him and just helps him breathe

i feel like he wouldn’t really get to know anyone beside a couple of chats here and there when he comes in initially but he already knows his head is with you, so he chooses you at a recoupling and it’s very smooth sailing in there

the only time an issue really comes about is in the beginning of your situation, when he starts getting annoyed at you for speaking to any new male bombshell even though you’d only been coupled up for a little while HOWEVER it gets squashed very very easily and you both set boundaries with each other

you both gain a reputation for being the horniest in the villa (think tasha and andrew s8) because all the islanders come out saying you guys are soooo loud in bed, mainly just oral - a mix of some light fingering and handjobs

this causes you guys to be picked for the hideaway very quickly and you of course you go the full way - the sex is very typical in rafe cameron style, hard rough thrusts that have your eyes rolling back. the public love you for the most part, just worry about rafe’s attitude when he’s angry

rafe is many things but a cheater is not one of them, so casa is very very hard for him because he misses you so bad, def just sleeps on the daybeds and looks at pictures of you and obviously vice versa, you’re recoupling is so so cute and just boosts the love for you guys from the public more

he skips all the exclusive stuff and just goes straight into asking you to be his girlfriend, he doesn’t do it in an overly grand way but he does make it very very special

i feel like you guys wouldn’t win just because some people are worried that rafe is too intense for you but that’s a small minority, so you end up placing 2nd or 3rd but it’s fine cause rafe’s loaded anyways

[cod-indulgences]

TF141 x female!reader, poly tf141, oral, nipple and breast abuse, overstimulation, vibrators, squirting, Dom/sub, subspace, free use dynamics

under the cut for length

part 2 of this

Soap makes it to the car first by virtue of being a dirty cheater, yanking Gaz back by the shirt collar with a whoop. He barely waits for the door to slide closed before he's on you, yanking your skirt up and panties down. Gaz picks up the discarded bit of cloth and fucking smells it, holding your gaze as he licks the soaked cotton.

Your pussy clenches and Johnny moans, settled right at eye level with your clit, thumbing your folds apart to lick up your come with a flat, hot tongue. You squeal and reach for Gaz as Price and Simon climb into the front, needing someone to hold onto as Soap shoves his tongue into you with no warning.

He's enthusiastic with your pussy, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it hard enough to make you shout, Gaz groping your breasts as you squirm. Soap can't move, he's wedged into the footwell between Price's seat and yours, which means his broad shoulders have your thighs splayed and your body wedged back into your seat, no escape from his mouth. The vibrator is still in you as well, curved up against your g-spot, and you keep clamping down on it when Soap drags you close to coming. He won't let you get there though, the fucker, and you gasp for Price to have mercy on your poor swollen clit, just let you come, you behaved at the bar-

Price laughs and shakes his head. "Still not my decision love," he says, and you look at Simon who waves the remote at you cheekily.

"Not sure I like you looking to him first, you know I've got the control tonight," he says, and "Gaz, go ahead and get rough with her tits if she's having a hard time not coming."

You moan in despair as Soap wiggles his tongue along your hole where the vibrator sits, and Gaz drags your shirt up and off, bra coming with it in a tangle of elastic. Your skirt is just a belt around your waist now and you whine as Gaz kisses your neck, soft and sweet, before he gets your nipple in his hand and pinches. You yelp and then shout louder as he squeezes, your nipple crushed between his thumb and finger, unable to push him away enough for relief. When he finally lets go you gasp and shudder, sobbing as Soap pops his mouth off your clit.

"You act like you hate it, bonnie, but I'm fucking near drowning in your cunt," he says, and rubs his jaw through your pussy to prove it, letting the other men hear the wet sloppy sounds. Gaz groans, and you flinch as he pinches your other nipple, but he lets go before he can bruise it like the other- instead, oh fuck, he's slapping your tits instead, hard smacks of his hand that make you yelp, pinned down between both men. Each suck and lick at your cunt drags you closer to orgasm, each smack on your breasts startles you out of it, Gaz pinching ruthlessly when he thinks you're getting too close. Your breasts are soon marked with little red bruises, your nipples swollen and sore where he's twisted them and tugged until you sobbed at him to let go, and your clit is a solid hot throb between your legs.

Then Simon turns the vibrator on.

You scream loud enough Price's hands jerk at the wheel. "Fuck, fuck, Simon please I need to come I need it please- please, god, oh fuck oh god, Simon, Simon please please please!!" Soap's on your clit, sucking it so hard he's got nearly your whole pussy pulled into his mouth; Gaz has twisted himself around to get both hands on your tits and is pulling your nipples so tight you think they're going to come off, and through it all the vibrator buzzes, unstoppable, stronger and stronger until you don't have anything left in you but the hair-thin control of not allowed to come yet.

Under your screaming and Soap's moaning and Gaz's swearing you hear a command you'd die for right now.

"You can come, love."

You know you scream again, back arching as much as it can, and your eyes roll back as you come and come and come, a full body spasm that doesn't stop, because Simon hasn't turned the vibrator back off.

You sob and beg, weeping, Gaz releasing your nipples with a rush of blood back to the abused flesh that stings and burns, and when finally the damned thing falls quiet you collapse against Gaz, limp.

Soap lays his head against your thigh, panting, and through the come-drunk haze you hear him gasp "Fuck Si, I wasn't joking about drowning, she just squirted down my fucking throat," and you hear him groan and shudder between your legs- oh, he was jerking off to you coming, and there's a wet splatter on your pussy as his come streaks over you.

Gaz moans and thumbs your nipples, and you whine, too fucked to protest, as he drags you to lay across the seat. Your mouth falls open as he gets his cock out and works it between your lips, holding your head in both hands and fucking up into your mouth like a sex toy- you can't move, and just let him take you, drooling down his cock. You can't even muster up the energy to choke when his cock bumps into your throat, then deeper. Everything is too soft, too blissed out and fucked out, your body thrumming with phantom sensations as Gaz uses your throat. He comes fast, pushing you down all the way, and you manage to swallow some of his come before he lifts you up and the rest drools out down your chin.

The door opens- oh, you're home. Simon looks at you upside down from where your head hangs over Gaz's lap.

"sweet thing, you look rode hard and put away wet," he comments, and you giggle at him.

"Not rode an'thin yet Siiii," and he lifts you up and carries you in where Price has turned the lamps on in the bedroom. Soap and Gaz trail behind you, the two men stumbling up the steps, come drunk on their own.

Simon spills you out onto the bed, and you smile giddily up at Price as he strips the belt from his pants, and snaps the leather.

[delilahsturniolo]

— ♡ love language . . . m.s

in which . . . matt never lets you win when you both play flight

warnings . . . kissing, play fighting, fluff, suggestive but no smut.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

POSITIONS WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #11

it starts with a stupid argument over who gets the last slice of pizza. you’re both sprawled across the couch, limbs tangled from a lazy night in, a movie playing in the background that neither of you are really watching. your legs are over his lap, his hand resting on your ankle. comfortable. easy.

until he reaches for the box. “don’t even think about it,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “what?” he grins, hand halfway to the slice. “i’ve been eyeing it for the last twenty minutes.”

“so have i,” you shoot back. “but i’ve been patient.”

“you also ate three already.”

“so did you.”

he lunges for the pizza. you tackle him. the two of you fall sideways onto the couch in a tangle of laughter and limbs, wrestling like kids, shoving and twisting until you’re straddling his waist, both of you breathless and grinning. “cheater,” you mutter, trying to pin his arms. “i’m literally letting you win,” he laughs, eyes shining, cheeks flushed.

“oh yeah?”

you press your palms to his chest, trying to keep him down. but in one smooth, unbothered move, he flips you. suddenly, you’re on your back, he’s over you, his hands on your wrists, pinning them above your head, his face way too close.

you freeze. so does he. the air shifts.

his hair falls a little over his forehead, and his gaze drops from your eyes to your mouth like it’s not even a choice. like it’s instinct. “say it,” he murmurs, voice low. “say i win.” you chuckle, shaking your head as he pressed kisses to the side of your neck, holding you down.

you’re barely breathing from how hard you were laughing. “make me.” and just like that, he kisses you. hard. his mouth crashes into yours with none of the usual softness, none of the hesitation. just heat. all tongue and teeth and the kind of hunger you’ve both been pretending didn’t exist for way too long. his grip on your wrists tightens as he deepens it, holding you still like he doesn’t trust himself not to lose control.

his hand slides down to your waist, gripping your hip like he needs the contact, like he’s been waiting forever to touch you like this. your legs fall open without thinking, and he settles between them, pinning you completely.

you tangle your fingers in his shirt, pulling him down again, and he kisses you like he’s trying to speak without words, like every press of his mouth is saying this is what i’ve wanted. this is what i’ve needed. you. his tongue slides over yours, slow and slick, and you moan into the kiss, thighs tightening around his waist. “you gonna stop running your mouth now?” he pants, forehead pressed to yours.

“not a chance.”

he smirks. “good. i like it better when you’re loud anyway.”

you kiss him again, messier this time. deeper. and his hands roam, up your waist, under your shirt, over your bra, like he’s mapping you out, learning every inch by touch. you don’t remember the movie night. you don’t care about the pizza. all that matters now is the way he’s finally looking at you like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: more chratt tomorrow :)