#but YEAH I knew this day was going to be 'what skyline against some of the nebula brushes I haven't used in a while?'

[runefactorynonsense]

Melotober - Day 21 -Night Sky

Sometimes you just need to stop, and breathe

[jo-speaks]

Happy birthday!! Can I request 🎂 (keep reading, don't let me distract you) With quinn of course

warnings: smut below the cut!! mdni! oral sex (fem! receiving), yeah that's pretty much it

requests for this celebration are still open! you can request here :)

You were lying on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a sports bra, nose-deep into a book Quinn had recommended to you a few days ago. You had gotten sleepy while watching the game, so you decided maybe a book would keep you awake. You were right. The plot was growing intensely in a way that made it impossible for you to stop your eyes from shifting left to right, processing every word and picturing everything vividly in your mind.

You were so focused on the story that you hadn’t noticed Quinn walk into the apartment. Not even the thud of his bag hitting the floor was enough to snap you out of your trance.

Quinn noticed your state of being when he entered the apartment. You had the blinds closed even though you had the perfect view of the skyline from the windows. The only light in the room came from the TV where you had some background music playing. He smiled when he noticed what you were reading, a sense of pride flooding his body as he recognized the familiar title.

He didn’t want to interrupt you, but he wanted to be close to you. He kicked off his shoes and stripped himself of his game-day suit, leaving him in nothing but his underwear before he made his way over to you.

No words were exchanged as he pushed your knees apart, finding a home in between your legs with his head on your stomach. You removed one hand from the book, moving it to mess with his hair. Smiling at the feeling, Quinn placed a kiss on your bare midriff, earning a giggle from you. 

“That tickles.” You mumbled, returning back to the sentence you had left off on.

Quinn smiled, “Go back to your book, baby. It’s a good read.”

He realized you already had when he was met with silence. His lips met your stomach again. And again.

It hadn’t been his intention to pull your attention away from the book. It genuinely was a good story, but he couldn’t help but trail his kisses from your navel to just mere inches from your core. Before he even knew what was happening, he was sliding your shorts and panties down your legs, letting them find a new home on the floor.

“Quinn?” You asked, voice trembling slightly as you lowered your book to see what he was doing.

He peered up at you, offering you a sweet smile, “Keep reading. Don’t let me distract you.”

You obeyed, trying to control your breathing and bring your focus back to the pages once again as he placed a soft kiss on your clit. 

His tongue lapped against your core in a tamed manner until a switch seemed to flip in his brain.  His once previously soft actions turned messy in a matter of seconds, beginning to eat you out like you were his last meal.

Whimpers turned into moans as you tugged on his hair, earning a groan from him, the vibrations translating perfectly from his throat to your throbbing clit. You couldn’t fathom the thought of picking the book up again, too distracted by his mouth to even remember anything you had read in the past hour.

“Fuck, Quinn. Don’t stop. Please.” You babbled, brain turning to mush as he shifted his tongue from lapping at your clit to prodding at your entrance. His nose replaced that sensation, the tip of it rubbing up perfectly against you, causing you to grind your hips against his face.

Quinn pulled away slightly to speak, “Cum for me, sweet girl. Let me get you there.” Once he got his words out, he dove right back into you as if you were his only source of oxygen.

It didn’t take long before you were crying out, the forgotten book sliding off your chest and onto the ground, as you arched your back, a wave of euphoria hitting you hard.

He didn’t stop his actions, helping you ride out your orgasm whilst sucking in every last drop of it. He wouldn’t have stopped had it not been for the palm of your hand pushing his head away from you. 

Quinn trailed kisses up your body, worshiping you silently before he reached your face, placing a loving kiss on your lips, the taste of you lingering against your tongue. 

“So much for not distracting me. I was getting to the climax.” You jokingly complained.

Your boyfriend snorted as he made himself comfortable on top of you, “And I helped you get there.”

[mapiforpresident]

Can you do number 40 with lia wälti please?

Quiet Pining

Lia Walti x Williamson!reader

As the sun dipped low over the London skyline, Arsenal was starting their second training session of the day, preparing for an upcoming champions league match. You were the team's main goalie and supposed to be focused intently on your current drills, but your attention kept drifting to Lia.

Lia was a couple of meters away, with the midfielders and defenders engaged in a lively rondo. You were supposed to be practicing with the strikers, but your eyes kept drifting over to Lia.

“Y/n, come on! Focus!” Alessia called out, snapping you back to reality. You chuckled sheepishly, trying to shake off your distraction.

“Sorry!” you called, your cheeks warming. Leah, your annoying older sister, glanced your way, an amused smile playing on her lips.

The drills progressed, and as the strikers took turns shooting at goal, you felt your palms getting sweaty. You were well aware of the pressure and that you needed to show your teammates that you were ready for the match ahead. But each time you tried to focus, you’d catch sight of Lia, looking absolutely stunning in the light from the setting sun.

“Come on, Y/n! You got this!” shouted Katie from the sidelines as a couple girls stood to watch the end of your drills.

Once the strikers wrapped up their drills, you saw the perfect opportunity for some fun. You exchanged a glance with Katie, who instantly knew what you were thinking. You both tiptoed over to the water station, grabbing two bottles with icy water.

“Let’s go for the midfielders!” Katie whispered, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Not Lia, though,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. You couldn’t bear the thought of embarrassing her like that, even in a playful way.

“Fine, fine. Just Beth and Viv, then,” Katie said with a mischievous grin. You nodded, and together, you snuck up behind your unsuspecting targets.

“Surprise!” you shouted, pouring the cold water down their backs.

“What the” Beth yelped, jumping and spinning around, her expression a mix of shock and laughter. Viv, also caught off guard, jumped almost a foot in the air and then glared at you two as you ran away laughing.

“You two are so dead!” Beth laughed, chasing after you. Viv just stood there glaring. You and Katie took off faster, dodging around cones and teammates.

After all the drills wrapped up, you collapsed onto the grass beside Leah, trying to catch your breath. The sun was getting lower in the sky, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, and you could see Lia chatting with Kim Little a few feet away.

Leah nudged you, smirk present. “That was quite the performance, Y/n. You might want to watch your back, though. Viv looked ready to tackle you.”

You chuckled, looking over at the two of them. “Worth it.”

“Speaking of fun, are you ready for the match against Roma?” Leah asked, stretching out her legs.

“Yeah, I think so. Just a bit nervous,” you admitted, your gaze still lingering on Lia. “I mean, it’s a big game, especially since we didn't make the champions league last year. I need to make sure I’m on top of my game.”

“Pressure is part of it, right? You’ve trained hard for this. You’ll be great! And anyways nothing is getting past me, so you don't have to worry” Leah said, her voice full of confidence to which you just raised an eyebrow.

You turned your head toward her. “What if I mess up? What if I let everyone down?”

“Hey, stop that! You’re not going to let anyone down. Just play your game and do what you know best. And remember, this is a team sport and we win and lose together,” Leah reassured you, squeezing your shoulder.

Just then, Lia walked over, her smile wide and inviting. “Hey, you two! What’s the plan for after practice?” she asked, glancing between you and Leah.

You felt your heart race, the sudden shyness enveloping you like a thick fog. “Uh, I don’t know... maybe just rest up for the match?” you managed to stammer, your eyes darting to the ground, avoiding Lia’s gaze.

“Sounds good,” Lia replied, “You should both come hang out later. We can go over game strategies and maybe watch a movie.”

“Definitely!” Leah said as Lia helped pull her up off the ground. You nodded, but your mind was spinning. The thought of being alone with just your sister and Lia, sent your heart into a wild rhythm.

As practice wrapped up, you gathered your things, overthinking everything that could go wrong. Leah and you hopped in the car, you in the passenger seat.

The ride home was filled with a silence, you couldn't stop thinking about Lia, and how she was way out of your league, not to mention your sisters best friends. As Leah drove, you kept glancing out the window, lost in thought.

“Y/n,” Leah broke the silence, her tone teasing yet serious, “you’re still thinking about Lia, aren’t you?”

You sighed, knowing there was no escaping this. “Maybe a little.”

Leah smirked. “You know, I’ve seen the way you look at her. You like her.”

Your heart raced at her words, the heat creeping into your cheeks again. “I don’t know, Leah. It’s complicated. She’s your best friend and what if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Or what if she does?” Leah countered, glancing at you with a knowing smile. “You won’t know unless you say something. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Making things awkward?” you shot back, but deep down, the idea of being brave lingered.

“Look, you’ve got to take a chance,” Leah encouraged. “I mean, come on! You two have this great chemistry. Just think about it.”

You mulled over Leah’s words, your heart fluttering at the thought of actually asking Lia out. What if it could lead to something beautiful? But then again, what if it didn’t?

“Maybe you could ask her out after the match when we win,” Leah suggested, her tone turning more serious. “you can have time to think about what you are going to say and you’ll feel more confident.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you said quietly, but the thought sent a shiver down your spine. Could you really do that?

When you finally pulled into your driveway, Leah parked the car and turned to face you. “Promise me you’ll at least think about it. I have a good feeling she'll say yes. Just ask her to go for coffee or something after practice.”

“I’ll think about it,” you replied, though your heart was racing at the idea. “But what if it ruins everything?”

“It won’t. And if it does, you’ll get through it together. That’s what friends do,” Leah assured you, her eyes full of sincerity. She really wanted you to be happy and she knew that you and Lia would do that for each other.

You went over to Lia's with Leah for a couple hours after dinner and you were very in your head the whole time. Especially when you sat in between them during the movie and Lia scooted closer to you.

Later that night, you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned, the weight of your feelings for Lia pressing heavy on your mind. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see her smile, hear her laughter. You imagined what it would be like to hold her hand, to go out for coffee, to just be together.

By morning, you were a bundle of nerves. The thought of the match against Roma filled you with anticipation, but it was overshadowed by the thought of what to do about Lia.

As you slipped into your jersey, you kept stealing glances at Lia. She was chatting with Beth, head thrown back in laughter. You really wanted to approach them, but the thought of actually talking to her made your heart race even faster.

The practice session began, and you pushed aside your nerves, focusing on the drills. The strikers took their shots at you, and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as you dove to save each shot. You were in your element, and for a moment, the anxiety about Lia faded away.

During a break, you grabbed a water bottle and chugged a couple sips. Leah joined you, her expression curious. “So, have you thought about what you’re going to say to Lia?”

You sighed, as you redid your bun. “Honestly? I’m terrified. What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Then you’ll deal with it,” Leah said simply. “But you won’t know unless you try.”

“I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. She means a lot to me,” you admitted, looking down at the grass.

“She means a lot to you because you’re friends. Think about it—if it doesn’t work out, wouldn’t you rather know than wonder?” Leah pushed gently.

“Maybe you’re right.”

Just then, you saw Lia walking toward you, a smile spreading across her face. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your palms grow clammy.

“Hey! What are you two plotting over here?” Lia teased.

“Just talking about the match,” Leah said smoothly. “And how amazing our goalie is going to be.”

Lia turned to you, her eyes sparkling. “You’ll be fantastic. You always are, especially in these big games”

“Thanks, Lia,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As she talked, you found yourself hanging onto her every word. The way she moved, she was intoxicating.

Lia smiled brightly, and for a moment, the world around you faded away as you stared into each others eyes. The sounds of the training ground faded, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. But then Lia blinked and looked away as Leah cleared her throat. The three of you jogged back to the circle that was forming to discuss the next part of training.

~~~

Once practice was over you showered and got changed before finding your sister and starting the walk to her car, but once you got outside, Leah said, "I have a meeting about my next book, i'll see you later."

“Wait, Leah—” you called, but she was already jogging off towards the car, her back to you. You stood there, dumbfounded that she really just left you there.

Lia noticed and walked over, her brow furrowing in concern. “Why are you out here by yourself? Where’s Leah?”

“She sped off without me,” you admitted, forcing a laugh that felt hollow.

“Ah, classic Leah,” Lia said, shaking her head with a smile. “Do you need a ride home?”

You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the offer. “Uh, yeah, that would be great,” you finally managed to say, your heart racing at the thought of being alone with her.

As you climbed into the passenger seat, the car felt small and intimate, even though it was a normal size SUV. The ride was filled with silence, both of you stealing shy glances at each other. You could feel the electricity in the air, and every time your hands brushed against the center console, your heart raced.

Lia seemed to sense the new atmosphere as well, her cheeks slightly flushed. “So, are you excited for the match?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, definitely! Just trying to stay focused,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Me too, I'm excited to be playing in the champions league again!” she said, her smile making your heart flutter.

The car pulled up to your flat, and you sat there for a moment, your mind racing. Just as you gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to hang out—just the two of you—her phone buzzed on the dashboard. She glanced at the screen, her expression shifting.

“Sorry, I need to take this,” Lia said, her tone apologetic. You felt a pang of disappointment as she answered the call.

“Hey! Yeah, I’m on my way,” she said, her eyes meeting yours for just a brief moment.

You felt the words catch in your throat, but the moment had slipped away. “Uh, bye, Lia,” you managed to say, your heart sinking as she waved goodbye, a mix of regret and longing flooding you as she drove away.

[suiana]

need more killer harem and organ seller

(yandere! killer harem x gn! organ seller reader) (first fic of 2024 oh em gee 😋😋)

"it's going to be 2024."

"yeah."

you reply to his statement as you stand motionlessly, staring up at the night sky as your provider for the day stands beside you. you tug at your turtleneck sweater nervously, avoiding his gaze as you attempt to ignore how he inches closer to you with each passing second.

you two remain silent after that, him staring affectionately at you and you standing awkwardly beside him. you nervously eye the railing you leaned against, watching as the crowd below you engages in merry discussion. gulping awkwardly, you play with your hands as you mentally curse yourself for deciding to accept his offer of watching the new year's fireworks with him. you should've known better than to accept one of your lovesick admirers hand in something so romantic.

plus, it's not like you did anything like this for any of your other partners. sure, you kissed a few, held some tenderly, indulged multiple on dates, maybe even fucked one or two... but you've never agreed to watch fireworks like lovers do! speaking of which...

it's almost creepy how each and every one of your business partners turn out infatuated with you one way or another. was it the air? was it because they were all mentally insane? you don't know and you couldn't bother to care. because the more you know, the deeper you fall into the rabbit hole of their lives.

so you don't know why you've decided to indulge this organ provider for today. especially since... he looks more deranged than the rest.

"hey, can i ask something?"

he asks, staring at you with that same creepy smile that sends chills up your spine. yet, you nod in response to his question. he simply laughs at that, turning to look at the night sky before mumbling softly.

"would you choose me out of everyone else?"

you pause, looking at him with narrowed eyes before shaking your head. you're not going to entertain any nonsense. you knew you should've left earlier-

"mn... that's too bad. i would've chosen you in a crowd of others. it hurts me to know you wouldn't do the same."

he holds your wrist tightly, mumbling in faux hurt as he smiles eerily at you. you freeze, not moving as you glare at your business partner. damn, you can't believe you actually agreed to be here with him in the first place.

"let go."

"nah. i like holding you."

you grit your teeth, but do nothing to break free as you continue to stare at him. he merely hums in response, smiling as he looks across the city skyline.

all of a sudden, he pins you to the railing, face way too close for comfort.

"mn... you're so cute like this... can i kiss you?"

you squirm under his grip, heart beating loudly as all you can focus on is his eager face.

"g-get off!"

you huff, pushing at his chest as you sweat nervously. shit, he could easily push you over the railing and you'd be mush like some of his victims- that's when you felt his lips brush against yours, kissing your cheek as his hands go to the back of your neck.

you stop in place, looking up as he pulls away only to realize that it was a new year. your fingers gently touch your cheek as you eye him. he didn't kiss you on the lips? what was he up to?

"haha! how silly you are. i just wanted to give you a new year's present. don't be so tense."

he gestures to the necklace around your neck. ah... so that's what he did...

"and there was ice cream on your face from just now. didn't tell you cause i thought you'd notice but you're much more clumsier than i thought! don't worry, i cleaned it for ya. free of charge~"

he winks at you before grinning.

"happy new year. i hope you'll make the right choice when the time comes."

he then waves at you before turning around, leaving you alone to you thoughts as the sound of the fireworks takes your attention. right choice huh... was this a sign that your business partners were planning something? you sure hope not...

you wouldn't want to have to make such a difficult choice. especially since choosing just one would mean you'd make enemies out of the rest. you sigh out, rubbing your temples before leaning against the railing again. oh well, you'll just enjoy the pretty display for now. after all, that's what you came for. you'll deal with the problems later.

"...happy new year, i guess."

yeah, what a happy new year this year will be :)

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

Vox making a sinner his housespouse Drabble

Tw: (50’s) Period typical views of the nuclear family, entrapment, manipulation, gaslighting nuclear “family”, threats of violence, noncon touching

@omniuravity

I can just imagine the look on his face one day when you walk into his establishment looking for directions to where you’re supposed to go. A new sinner, someone just trying to pull themselves up as quick as possible.

And so polite too!

He’d charm you with a welcoming air and a quick gesture into his office, trying to offer you jobs in tv while you turn each one.

Smart.

When you highlight some of your skills he feels a course of electricity jolt through him, something more human than hid metal, and wired bodies.

“Have you thought of maid services?”

It was the first thought to come to his mind and one he noticed you cringed at, but shrugged towards.

“What could it hurt?”

A grin grew up his face and for the first few months he had a car driving you from where ever you’d need to go, so long as you offered him company at the end of the day. A small chat in his office turned to nights at an old fashioned drive through, turned into dances under the darkest part of the pride ring.

Yet he could tell you weren’t impressed, so he broadcast you on television, your services, your personality, making offhanded remarks about how perfect your body was. All things you’d oullined you didn’t want when you began your services. All things he promised he wouldn’t do, so when you saw a 50’s cartoon drawing of yourself thrown up on screens you were naturally livid.

Bringing it up to Vox you made sure to outline your disappointment, and Vox seethed internally. He had you walking to your jobs that week before he called you one morning, your apartment exploding in both your tv, watch, and phone ringing.

“Vox?”

“Heyyy doll! Nice to hear from you- hey, I need a small favor if you can manage it?”

You bit your lip in worry, hoping he wasn’t angry enough to hurt you.

“Yeah what-“

“How about now!” He asked cheerfully, sounding a bit pressed on time, a tad unhinged. And underlay stood a more true sound.

“Im outside already.”

You grumbled a small yes before he ended the call with a giddy chuckle, waiting for you to get your rear outside. When you stepped out the souped up company car that he usually had driven for you was nowhere to be seen. Instead- in its place a bright blue Buick limited, trimmed with a shiny red, windows finished with a shiny white. His face grined out the main window, sharp, flat teeth blinking oddly in the red lights of hell.

“Jump on in!” He exclaimed- patting the white leather seats, and barely waiting for you to take a seat before snapping you into his can, fastening the two seatbelts wicked tight and hellblazing down the highway,

Any questions asked about where you were going were met with a flippant disregard and a question about how you would design a wedding.

It wasn’t until you met a bright blue skyline with fake ass clouds that you even attempted to leave the car, trying to pry the handles off before the handle fizzeled out of existence and about a hundred people came out like clockwork to water their brightly colored flowers and fake ground.

You felt like you were on the brink of a panic before the car stopped entirely, Vox zipping through the air to pull you up and out of the car into a pretty baby blue house, with a white picket fence and some off pink curtains.

It of course would get some taking used to as Vox replayed an existence he’d never lived through to a snapping audience but after months of him refusing to feed you and your stomach finally forcing you to move you knew it was time.

And so every question you’d asked about the friends you made were turned against you.

“Oh that’s nothing to worry about honey, they’ve all graduated and had children by now…”

And you were expected to believe that.

You were expected to believe when those seem people were threatened on the knives where Vox had to lock the chemicals up and send the knives away. Expected to believe that when you begged the other hellions on the street to help you and they tied you down until Vox came back around at the end of the day.

So it’d be easier now for him to keep you, trace a hand across your collarbones and whisper violence into your ear as you twitched away, constrained by a pure white, frilly set of handcuffs. Begging him to let you leave until the day the two of you broke during a fight, when he sputtered out an agictated ‘I hate you!’

Before you broke into hysterical laughter, sobbing and chuckling like mad at his feet while he tried to pick you up. Only able to get as far as an inch off the ground before he brought a pillow and blanket into the kitchen to let you rest out.

“All couples have their issues honey…”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Dinner is a surprise tonight Vox, what wine pairs best with Lamb?”

[saw3amanda]

miss missing you (now and then)

Clark collapsed against a parapet, catching his breath. Technically speaking, Clark never had to catch his breath, but it was nice to sit after the exertion of going up against Luthor. Luckily, there had been no kryptonite involved, but Clark had called in Batman just in case and wasn’t complaining about the extra help.

“You alright?” A modulated voice rumbled next to him.

Clark looked over to see Batman leaning against the short wall a few feet away from him. The two had only been working together for a short year (after a few very tense weeks of getting to know each other), and it was nice to know that Batman cared enough to ask.

“Yeah, just tired, I guess. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” Clark replied, getting to his feet and looking out at Metropolis from his vantage point. They were standing atop a dilapidated building, half destroyed and condemned from some battle months ago. The sun was just starting to set, streaking across the sky in yellow and gold, and the air was beginning to cool. Clark could feel the last rays of sunlight stretching to meet him.

Batman made a brief, inquisitive noise, and Clark had to play back their conversation to remember what he had said. 

“Oh, just had uncomfortable dreams, I guess. Not very conducive to a good night’s rest.” He laughed gently.

“Hm.”

Clark looked over and saw Batman still staring at him, as if he was waiting for him to continue. 

This was new, the active interest in each other’s lives. For the majority of their relationship, they contacted each other out of necessity. Clark’s comm would only ping in emergencies, when Batman had too much to handle (not that he would admit that), or he had new information for a case. But in months, they had started lingering when the battle was over. One of them would escort the other back to their respective city, carrying on a conversation in soft tones, or they would take a moment to recuperate with the other close by. Clark was never one to allow silence to reign for long, and he drew Batman into conversation again and again. When the recap of the mission had dwindled, Clark would start talking about anecdotes from his day, or point out areas he’d explored in his city. Batman eventually graduated from mumbled sounds of agreement to full sentences. 

It still managed to surprise him when Batman seemed interested in what he had to say instead of tolerating it, but he was beginning to appreciate their fledgling friendship. A bit too much, if he was honest. These inconvenient feelings kept cropping up, but Clark had gotten well versed in choking them down. So, if Batman wanted to continue talking, Clark certainly wouldn’t stop it. 

“Do you ever dream about someone you shouldn’t?” Clark asked, staring off at the city skyline. 

He could hear Batman walk closer and stand beside him, facing out just as Clark was.

“No.”

“Yeah, I guess not. I can’t even imagine you dreaming. You just stoically fall asleep, wake up two hours later, and you’re set, right?”

A muffled noise of amusement came from his right, and Clark had to stifle a grin.

“Exactly.”

“Well, for the rest of us,” Clark’s smile faded. “Dreaming can be more trouble than it’s worth.”

Clark allowed a warm quiet to blanket the moment, and reveled in it. 

“Who was it?” Batman asked. Clark almost jumped at his gravelly voice breaking the silence. 

Clark debated his next words. He could be honest, like he desperately wanted to be. He could feel the words swimming around his lungs, jumping through his veins as they had all day. But how much would be too much? What could he give away about himself and still feel confident in his secret identity? 

He could trust Batman; he knew this. They were in the exact same position, and he knew that if he asked, Batman wouldn’t dig too much into it. Besides, honesty was the foundation of any good friendship and he did want to talk about this.

“You’re gonna laugh,” Clark chuckled weakly, nerves roiling in his stomach, just like they did whenever he talked about him. “But, Bruce Wayne.”

A weird, hacking sound started, and Clark looked around to see where it was coming from. He turned to Batman to see the man furiously coughing into his elbow. He would laugh at how strangled the cough had sounded through the modulator, but he was more worried than anything at the moment. 

“Are you ok?” He said hurriedly.

“Fine.” Batman said as he straightened up and looked back over to Clark. He cleared his throat one last time. “Bruce Wayne?”

Clark felt his blood rise to his cheeks in a light flush and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we actually一” Clark paused and made a quick decision. “I'm going to tell you something because I trust you not to look into it. I know you well enough that you wouldn't compromise my identity.”

He looked over, and Batman nodded, a slight smile on his lips. Clark threw a nervous grin back, and took a deep breath.

“Back in high school, Bruce and I…dated.” Clark said. He wanted to turn to Batman to see his reaction, but stared resolutely at the fading sun. “He had moved to my town to get out of the city, and we just clicked .”

Batman hummed a short, contemplative noise and Clark continued.

“We were together for a good while actually. Of course we weren't out to anyone but a select few, but we still made it work.” Clark said with a wry turn of his lips.

“What happened?” Batman asked, his voice as soft as the modulator would allow.

Clark let out a sigh. He had told this story so many times that he almost had a script for it. But this wasn’t just anyone asking about his first love. He didn’t have to run his normal lines. 

“He left. Isn’t that always how it always goes?”

Clark finally glanced over at Batman, who was looking down at his folded hands on the parapet ledge. The gloved fingers interlapped evenly, creating a neat pattern of shadows in the fading light. Batman finally turned to face him, and Clark couldn’t quite identify what the strange set of his mouth meant.

“So,” Batman cleared his throat. “The dream.”

Clark laughed a little, surprised.

“You are uncharacteristically interested in this, B.” He said, shaking his head.

Batman stayed silent, the whisper of gloved hands unfolding the only sound to be heard. He braced his hands on the ledge instead and Clark admired his flexed arms for a moment, then shook his head slightly. 

“It was nothing really that upsetting. He popped up as people do in dreams, and we just talked. We made fun of each other like we used to.” Clark sighed. “We actually apologized to each other too, I think.”

Clark let the melancholy of his hopeless dream wash over him for a moment. It hurt when he woke up not because it didn't happen, but because it would never have the chance to.

“You apologized?” Batman asked.

“Yeah, well, I've said and done some things after the break up that I'm not proud of. We met up twice afterwards, a year or two later and I just…fucked it up.” Clark replied. Shame flooded through him as he remembered every misstep he took after Bruce left. “I think I ruined any chance we had of building a friendship. Last time we talked, he essentially told me that we shouldn't anymore.”

Clark looked up and saw Batman turned to him. It was nice to say this aloud, he realized. 

“But it's ok, really. I don't blame him and it's probably better if we don't talk,” Clark continued. He felt like each word that slipped into the air between them carried a weight that had been released from his chest. He was lighter, despite the difficult topic. “It's just a shame, because I have so much I want to say to him. But I've made peace with the fact that I won't be able to.”

The last golden fingers of sunlight had faded into the horizon, and the two were trapped in the moment between night and day. It washed the city in purple, and Clark watched as street lamps flickered on.

Clark looked over to Batman and studied the way the shadows fell across his face. 

“I really appreciate you listening. I didn't realize一” 

“What would you say to him?” Batman interrupted. The words seemed to rush out of him, like they couldn't get out fast enough. “If you could see him, what would you say?”

Clark hummed thoughtfully. He didn't understand Batman's urgency, but the moment felt important somehow. He knew he needed to word what he said next correctly, because he wouldn't be able to take them back.

“I would tell him that I still think of him when I listen to Fall Out Boy, which is a shame because they're all I've been listening to for the past week,” Clark started. “He used to love them. I actually learned the words to Sugar, We're Going Down to impress him. 

“I would ask if we could just forget these past few years. If we could just pretend we haven't talked since we broke up.  I have made so many mistakes, and I've fucked up so, so many times. And I'm sorry.”

Clark took a breath before continuing, chest stretching the fabric of his uniform tight as he inhaled.

“I would tell him that I've dated four people in my life, and he was the only one I ever loved. I have been chasing that feeling for years, and he did it without even trying. And sometimes, I even miss the heartbreak. I miss feeling that strongly about someone. We fit together in a way that I've never experienced before or since, and goddamn if that doesn't make me angry. Goddamn if I didn't wish I loved someone like I loved him.

“And I wouldn't say this because I still wanted him. I wouldn't say this because I missed him. I'm not even sure if I do, to be honest. I certainly miss what we had, and even the people we used to be. But maybe the person I miss isn't so different from the person he is now. The point, if I ever said this, is that I still think about him sometimes. It's that he still pops up in my dreams every so often, and that he used to make me incandescently happy.”

Clark laughed, a short bitter thing. He looked down at his hands gripping the concrete of the parapet, cracks beginning to spread through the stone. Batman stayed silent.

“I wish I didn't fuck up for years just because I missed him, and I wish I didn't ruin the friendship we could've had.” Clark said softly. He finally turned to Batman. “But wishing never did anything.”

Batman stared at Clark, and for once, Clark wished desperately to see his face. To see his reaction, because reading his emotions through the turn of his lips wasn't enough. 

Clark suddenly felt exposed under the rising moon. He had said too much; he had been too honest. Batman and him had just started to be friends, and here Clark goes, whining about a love long ago.

He coughed, trying to ease the embarrassment in his chest.

“Anyway, it doesn't matter much now.” He said into the stillness of the air.

“It does.”

Clark threw on a weak grin.

“That’s nice of you, B, but it’s ok. I’m alright with this.” He took a few steps back from the short wall, looking one last time at the glowing city lights. “It’s getting late. Thanks for your help today. And for listening.”

Clark scrubbed a hand down his face. He was exhausted. That had to be the reason he rambled incessantly to Batman. He began to rise slowly, feet only a few inches off the ground, when a gloved hand reached out and grabbed his forearm.

“B?”

“Clark, wait.” Batman said, looking directly into his eyes. Clark dropped instantly to the ground, boots scratching slightly against the concrete. 

“What did you say?” Clark asked with wide eyes. He could feel his hands start to shake.

Batman stepped closer with determination written on his lips.

“Clark, I’m sorry.”

He started to back away from Batman, each step unsteady. How did he know? How long has he known?

“How did you..” He said, voice shaking slightly. “How do you know my name?”

Batman didn’t answer. He started reaching behind his head with both hands and Clark barely registered the snick of a latch opening before he saw the cowl fall away.

“Clark,” Bruce Wayne said, standing in full Batman regalia. “I’m sorry.” 

[desomniis]

to ask for your hand (I just pray that its mine) | Chapter 4 excerpt

After clinching his third career win at the Vegas GP, Carlos wakes up to a wedding band on his finger and his teammate, Charles, wearing the exact match.

WIP | 4/5 | 28,797 words | Accidental Drunk Marriage in Vegas AU | Fluff | Angst | Drama

Down below, the circuit was a bright outline against the night. Another season, another gruelling race in Singapore.

The skyline was an architectural marvel. It was stunning during the day, but at night? it looked like a rare jewel sparkling against the black velvet night. To witness such magnificence on top of the Marina Bay Sands—dipped in the infinity pool, no less—with no one else around was a indeed privilege.

In his mind, he traced the track, imagining his car passing through Anderson bridge, making the tight left at 13 to the Esplanade Drive. Then the apex at 14, then 15, 16—a splash from the other end of the pool startled him. Charles?

Carlos was pretty sure it was Charles, the rookie this season. They never really ‘talked’ before. Their conversations always happened in passing, going along the lines off, ‘How are you? Good? How’s your car? Not good on the tires.’ He knew little about him—only that he was from Monaco and that he was set to replace Kimi at Ferrari next year. A rookie replacing a world champion. Unheard of. This kid must be a huge deal.

“It’s a beautiful city, no?” Carlos ventured. He winced inside, remembering Papá's advice about small talk and F1 drivers.

Charles jolted, his hand flying to his chest, accidentally splashing water to his own face. “Oh my god, you scared me.”

Carlos chuckled. “You’re quite jumpy, eh?” he teased, settling on the ledge next to him.

“A little,” Charles admitted with a sheepish smile. “What are you doing here? It’s a bit late, no?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I didn’t get much sleep on the flight here.”

“Tell me about it. 20 hour flights are no joke.”

“True,” Charles said. “Any tips for tomorrow? I’ve never raced here before. My first time. So, I’m a little nervous.”

A smirk crept up Carlos lips. “Have you passed out in a race before?”

“Uh, no? I don’t think so.”

“Well, here, try not to. It’s almost guaranteed.”

”What? That’s impossible.”

“Also, you might drive blind on some corners.”

“Why—”

“Don’t even get me started about the rain. Singapore is a totally different race if it rains.”

Worry flitted through Charles' eyes, swallowing a lump on his throat. “Oh yeah?” he said, trying to hide his discomfort.

Carlos held onto his laughter. He nodded seriously, “yeah. Seven DNF’s last year.”

Charles visibly got more anxious, the horrors of last year’s race flashing in his eyes. “Ah, putain,” he muttered under his breath.

Carlos’ laughter eventually bubbled forth.

“What? Why are you laughing?” Charles questioned, his brows knitting together.

“I was kidding. It’s not that bad, I promise.”

“I—Oh… you were trying to scare me.” Charles smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Making fun of the rookie, I see.”

“Don’t worry,” Carlos wiped the tears from his eyes. “Vettel and Fernando did it to me in my rookie year too. Except they waited a day before telling me it’s not that bad. I remember not sleeping that night.”

Charles laughed, and Carlos was struck. There was something about his laugh that resonated deep in Carlos’ chest, like the melody of his childhood summers spent racing bicycles down sun-dappled streets, the wind tousling his hair as he pedalled faster. It was the echo of his first karting victory, the taste of victory sweet on his tongue as he stood atop the podium, trophy held high, amid deafening cheers and applause. It was Miguel’s call, on his last day, asking him to meet at the lake so that he could steal another kiss from Carlos. There was something in Charles’ laugh that made Carlos yearn to hear it more.

“Well, I guess I’ll consider myself lucky that it was not Vettel or Fernando then,” Charles said.

“Yeah. Lucky. Just sleep well and drink lots of water before the race and you’ll do fine. I’ve seen you drive. You’re good. I trust that you can make it.”

Charles's eyebrows lifted, his head tilting slightly to the left like a puppy hearing something strange. “Really?” he asked, “you think I’m good?”

Carlos can count in one hand the amount of times he complimented another driver. It wasn't that he didn't recognise talent in others—if he was being honest, there were plenty of drivers far better than him. But he rarely voiced such acknowledgements. It’s like offering your enemy an edge.

So when he did compliment Charles, it surprised him, almost catching him off guard. There was no logical explanation for it.

Perhaps it was because Charles was young and it was his first year in F1. He could vividly recall his own struggles as a rookie. Maybe, in his own way, it was him trying to help his younger self.

Or perhaps it was how easily Charles just opened up to Carlos. Paired with his dimples, the sheepish smile, and those earnest blue eyes pleading for advice. Carlos felt an instinctual urge to protect Charles.

Or perhaps, it was something else entirely.

“You don’t?” Carlos dodged the question.

"I do. It's just that... It's rare to hear it from another driver. Everyone else says I'm good, you know? 'You're so talented, Charles. So fast. You are destined to be in F1,'" he recounted. "But they say it from the outside looking in. They don’t really get it. But when another driver say it, it means a lot more. Because they understand. You understand."

Carlos nodded slowly, the weight of Charles' words settling on him. He knew that feeling all too well. The constant need to prove his own worth, that he deserved to compete with the best of the world, that it wasn’t all because of a privileged upbringing.

“Of course,” he said idly. “So, how does this feel? All of it—the hype, the pressure, the Ferrari seat next year?”

A hesitant smile touched Charles' lips, fleeting as the Monegasque breeze. “When I drove for practice for them last year, I felt like I was going to explode in the car. I felt buzzing in my ears and my hand couldn’t stop shaking. I thought I would crash. I’m quite happy that I didn’t.

“But what’s interesting was how it all felt strange to me. All my life I’ve dreamed of driving and winning in that red car. Not only me, my father and my godfather too. I carry all their dreams with me. Now that I have the chance to do that… it’s…” Charles trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Overwhelming," Carlos offered, a hint of longing creeping into his voice. "Being in that red car… it’s something else."

The last sentence hung heavy in the air, the weight of his secret, of his father's expectation, sat heavy in his gut.

Charles chuckled, a soft, nervous sound. "Yeah. It's like everyone expects me to be a champion overnight. But then there's the pressure from myself too, you know? Like I have to live up to all these expectations, not just mine but everyone else's too." He ran a hand through his hair, anxiety swimming in his eyes.

Carlos leaned back on the ledge of the pool, studying Charles. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that surprised him. This young prodigy, who seemed to have it all figured out, was wrestling with self-doubt just like everyone else.

"Hey," Carlos said gently, "You'll be alright. You're here for a reason. You have the talent, the drive... you'll get there eventually.”

A flicker of gratitude sparked in Charles' eyes. "Thanks, Carlos. I appreciate that. Coming from you, it means a lot."

The compliment hung in the air for a moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Carlos couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about Charles disarmed him.

"Are you hungry?" Carlos finally asked, surprising even himself with the question. "Do you want to have dinner with me?"

Charles’ eyes sparkled and his lips curved up, making Carlos’ chest feel warm, like it was about to blow open. Whether it was a good or bad sign, it didn’t matter because there was only one thing he was sure of:

He wanted to see Charles smile again.

Read the whole chapter here. Ask me questions!

[lewkwoodnco]

Hi I want to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with the song False God, I want it to be best friends to lovers, with the miscommunication trope. Like they were best friends and started falling for each other, and try to hide their feelings. Then then after a case they got into an argument, about Lockwood throwing himself in danger again and he kisses her, but she just gets even more confused and mad, she thinks that he only did it because he wanted to distract her from what happened, so she gets even angrier. The argument gets even more heated and they start even yelling at each other, then they stop talking to each other for days, and the reader just has enough and leaves and Anthony is heartbroken, and tries to find a way to get her back. The ending is happy. He gets her back, and they confess to each other.

I'm sorry this is very confusing. You can obviously add more things, so there is the miscommunication trope, and also, so the plot suits the song more. Thank you, you're amazing, I absolutely loved the I can see you fic, and it was everything I hoped for when I requested it.

False God - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: No worries, its not confusing at all! I'm really glad you liked the i can see you fic cuz its one of my favs too!! hope you like this one toooo :) 4k!

She groaned, shifting in her window seat, forehead fused against the window pane. It was too bright to be looking straight ahead at the glowing skyline, so she was staring down at the pavement baking in the sweltering heat. Summer was in full force, and today it took form by enveloping 35 Portland Row and every building in a five-mile radius with its heat. It was too hot to think straight, too hot to do anything but brood and stew in resentment. Even as she unseeingly looked out at the shimmering roads, all she felt was the same agony growing inside of her being reflected back into her eyes. Loving Lockwood truly was a special kind of hell.

It had been a funny sort of week. On Monday, Lockwood had used a napkin to wipe some sugar off her nose after she had bitten into one of Arif's doughnuts, and he looked just as confused as her when he realised what he was doing. On Wednesday's job, she tripped on a loose floorboard so badly that her knees buckled under her, leading to some very ungraceful stumbling in Lockwood's arms, and when she was finally able to find her feet she brushed past him, face beet red, mumbling an apology.

On Thursday, Lockwood was bandaging up a scrape on her wrist, and she had been so transfixed by his swift, confident movements that she hadn't even realised he was done until he snapped the first aid box close. Later that night, while they were scouting out a new location, his fingers drifted on the edge of her bandage occasionally, as if checking to see if it was alright. Part of her love-addled brain couldn't help but hope that he was checking if she was alright. He apologised profusely each time, stepping back in an attempt to at force at least some physical distance between them. She nodded absent-mindedly, trying to soothe the somersaults her stomach made when she felt his rapier-calloused fingers graze her palm.

So when they were dividing themselves up for Friday's case, a part of her knew it wasn't smart to team up with someone in front of whom she became a stuttering, vacant fool. It wasn't that she daydreamed about him or felt butterflies in her stomach, but there was something about him that short-circuited her systems when he got too close. But now, Lockwood looked so cool, so nonchalant. She couldn't avoid him forever. She had to work through whatever this was, and spending time with him was how she was going to do it.

"Yeah, sure, those teams sound great. Lockwood and I together works." But even as she raised her mug to take a sip, she briefly met Lockwood's gaze, and the look in his eyes triggered this sudden vision of the entire mission going up in flames. Her eyes darted away, and when she looked back, he was looking at something on the thinking cloth interestedly. She struggled to take a sip of her tea with the lump in her throat. Must have been a trick of the light. Not that it helped her get it out of her head.

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

Lucy and George were starting on the first two floors, so Lockwood and her took the elevator up to the third floor. Two floors away, they could no longer hear George and Lucy's footsteps or voices, as if they were in an entirely different building. They split up, and she was relieved for the distance between them, the chance to finally think straight for a while.

However, they weren't having much luck. She ran her fingers over the walls for what felt like the hundredth time, frowning and straining her ears. Every time she felt like she had just gotten the right focus, Lockwood would shift somewhere behind her and break her concentration.

"Quit it."

"What?"

"The shifting. I can't hear."

"What shifting?"

She pulled her ear from the wall to look at Lockwood and immediately felt her spirits dry up. Lockwood was looking at her questioningly, not far from the position she had left him in, and right behind him was a Spectre a split second away from lunging at Lockwood.

It all happened so fast; even now she wasn't quite sure how she had managed to recover her wits so quickly. She barrelled towards the ghost, fingers closing over Lockwood's bicep as she closed her eyes and thrust her rapier in front of her, hoping her blade met the visitor before she did. There was a hissing sound, and then silence. She opened her eyes to see the Spectre gone, and Lockwood looking as pale and shaken as she felt. His lips quivered, forming amorphous words, and she feared she might break down if she looked at him being vulnerable for too long.

She turned detachedly, sheathing her rapier, considering the objects around them until she found one with overwhelming psychic charge. She pulled out her iron net and draped it over the source, and the temperature went up considerably. By then, Lockwood look mostly alright, if a little nervous.

They returned to the elevator, and as the doors shuddered to a close he tilted his head towards her, coughing awkwardly, though his eyes were still fixed to the floor. "You didn't need to...foolish t-to, what you did there...erm-"

"Lockwood, shut up. I'd die for you." She hadn't meant to sound so aggressive, but it made her heart stumble erratically when she saw him sprawled on the floor, moments away from certain death. It made her want to strangle him for being so stupid, then fling her arms around him and hold him close. For so much of her life she had felt like an island, alone and desolate, and she had so little, but Lockwood would forever be something for her to keep, even if it was only all in her head.

She looked up, startled by the dark look in his eyes, rushing to get the words out, but it was a bit too late. "And Lucy. And George." Even she could hear how flimsy that sounded, echoing in the starkly lit rattling elevator. Yes, she would lay her life on the ground for them, but with Lockwood, it was just...different. Anything to do with Lockwood just had to be complicated.

"I know. But still. Thank you."

She gasped, scrambling to her feet, hand clutching the sleeve of his coat before her brain caught up to what she was doing. It was almost comical, the way she had to blink at her hand and Lockwood's face before realising what she had done. She dropped her hand immediately, straightening, but Lockwood's expression didn't change. It was a weird mix of curiosity, contemplation and what looked to be worry. So it hadn't been a trick of the light.

She inhaled, raising her chin to meet his gaze. His eyebrows raised imperceptibly and she felt the air around them shift. She blinked hesitantly, much less confident than she was a few moments ago.

They silently boarded the elevator again, which was miraculously still working, and an uneasy feeling starting to grow in the pit of her stomach. For once, neither of them had made any effort to sweep the electricity between them under the rug, so now it hung in the open, the elephant in the room. It was pure insanity - no, idiocy, to acknowledge the charged air between them. She didn't know about Lockwood, but she was having a hard enough time dealing with the urges that compelled her to run to his side at the first sign of danger.

This was new territory, and these uncharted waters frightened her so. As soon as her attention drifted elsewhere and this tension between them took a backseat, she would look into Lockwood's eyes or feel him brush against her, and she would be certain that it was only a matter of time before she was pulled under. It made her head spin, and yet, she craved it.

Her hand trembled as she pushed her hair back from her eyes, and Lockwood reached out and interlocked her fingers with his own, still staring straight ahead at the dull metal doors. His stoic expression belied the intimacy of the action, and she felt the first strains of annoyance begin to bubble up. How could he just stand there so unaffected, as if he had every right to make her fight for her own breath?

The elevator doors opened to the ground floor, and not a moment too soon. The thick floors had meant that the two groups had no idea what was going on with the other group, and Lucy and George were fighting by the skin of their teeth to stay alive among the hoard of ghosts surrounding them. Lucy was keeping the visitors back while George ducked and rolled around the lobby, frantically looking for sources. Lockwood and her joined Lucy, and soon enough they had the upper hand.

Once the final source was neutralised, they sat in silence, only the sound of them catching their breath filling the room. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lockwood tugging at his rapier that was somehow embedded in the wall, before he suddenly stilled. He was looking in her direction, a familiar fear clouding his eyes. Somehow, a part of her realised exactly what was happening.

She turned, hand on her rapier, stopping short. She certainly felt the chill, and there seemed to be a haze in the air, but she couldn't quite make out anything tangible. She reached out, almost as if in a trance, before she had the wind knocked out of her.

One minute she was standing, and the next she was lying on the floor, a figure crouching over her, blocking her vision, as if shielding her. A few moments passed before the figure looked up and straightened, kneeling now, light falling on the gaunt face of Lockwood. George was sheepishly holding up a musical box draped in a silver net. "Sorry, missed a source. They should all be gone now."

Lockwood turned back to her, offering a hand to pull her up, but there was this weird sort of static buzzing between her ears now. She propped herself up on her own, shoving him, and walked away fuming while he toppled over in an undignified manner.

Fucking Lockwood.

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

The air of the group was fraught with tension on the way back. She signed the report with such force that she ripped a hole in one of them, and she kept rebuffing all of Lockwood's attempts to try to talk to her. Now, they were back at 35 Portland Row. She went straight to the kitchen and started making tea, slamming the drawers, uncommonly violent. Lockwood stood a few feet away from the table, closer to the door, as if furiously working out what exactly he wanted to say to the floor. She saved him the trouble.

"What the hell was that?"

"It was a Phantasm."

"Yeah, I guessed. I mean the part about you rushing in without any equipment."

"I was out of flares and my rapier was stuck. I didn't choose to do that."

"No Lockwood, you did choose. You made that choice when you decided to run in-"

"What the hell was I supposed to do? Watch you get ghost-touched?"

"-throw all caution to the wind, playing the hero-"

"I only play the hero because I have to. You're all my responsibility."

"-because never mind the three people who work in your agency, live in your house, and care so deeply about you that they wouldn't know what to do with themselves if you died-"

"So I'm just supposed to stand around and watch the rest of you die?!"

"-but no, the great Anthony Lockwood has bigger plans, like being an absolute - you won't even look at me!"

She sat down at the table, cradling her growing migraine, muttering to herself. "God, I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"Like what?" Lockwood gripped the chair opposite hers aggressively.

"This! You get so-so distant, like you couldn't be more disinterested in other people. In me. You detach yourself and step away and I know it's all a lie." She felt her heart rate further destabilise. "I see it when you look at me, like I'm some fresh, exciting thing to marvel at. You can get mad at me, or hate me, or strangle me, but I never bore you, Lockwood."

He bent forward by two inches, angling her head in his hand, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. It couldn't have lasted longer than a second, but they were both breathless when they broke away, faces no further than a few inches apart. Her rage was barely quelled, if not aggravated. Her face was white with anger. Even now, all he wanted to do was distract her, as if he knew it wouldn't take much. In a brief flicker of panic, a part of her worried that he knew how she felt, that he knew all along, and all of this was some sick game to screw her over. She wanted to smash his facade, watch him come undone the way she was on the inside, goad him into feeling something. "Go on, then. Do it."

"Do what?" Her breathing was uneven. The past few weeks of fleeting stolen glances were bad enough, but with his face so close to hers, she could feel her brain turning into jelly. Part of her knew what she was about to do wasn't fair to him, but their relationship had gone too haywire for her to care. There was nothing fair about the way he consumed her anyways. Whoever said it hadn't loved anybody as hard as she loved Lockwood: nothing is fair in love.

"Get rid of me. Wake up to happier mornings where I'm not around, since I'm such a burden." She wasn't entirely aware of what she was saying, or if she meant it. She was grasping desperately for any respite from the brutal assault of her emotions, so all she could do was the one thing she did best - withdraw. She leaned back, welcoming cool, grounding air into her lungs as her tears threatened to spill over the ruins of their crumbling friendship. It was as though she had been struck for having the sin of hubris, for believing her and Lockwood were built to weather the storms of affection beyond platonic love. "Fire me, whatever. Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't you? Being all official and important? Because all Anthony Lockwood cares about is being the biggest prat in the room, whether it be by throwing his precious life away-"

"So my life is 'precious', but yours is fair game?"

"I didn't say that!"

"You didn't NEED TO!" Lockwood was gripping the chair so tightly he looked just about ready to smash it into bits. He took a few ragged breaths, as if physically trying to control his emotions. "Words only express so much-"

"But they express just enough for you, don't they?" she said bitterly. He set his jaw, hardening against the venom of her words. She placed a hand on her forehead weakly, stumbling out of the kitchen up to the attic. There she sat now, cynically judging the trees for being too green.

Over the next few days, she stayed in the attic, forcing down morsels of the food Lucy brought up to her, preferring to communicate non-verbally. After three days, she began to feel as cold and long-forgotten as that tea she was in the middle of making that day. She watched them gear up and lug their equipment into cabs from the window, but none did so as resolutely or with as much mechanical efficiency as Lockwood. She missed them, she missed working, but she wasn't about to go running down the stairs to Lockwood's room, begging for forgiveness. No; she had more pride than that.

Instead, she wiled away the hours staring at the clock and then staring out the window, until her eyes ached. It was so hot, time seemed to be slowing to a stop. The seconds hand ticked occasionally, when it felt like it, and her shirt plastered itself on her back. The heat was so oppressive and glued her eyelids shut, and it felt as though the whole room was submerged in molasses. It just wasn't the right kind of weather to reconcile.

Occasionally, her thoughts drifted to when she first joined the agency, and the words of advice Lucy had given her. "Lockwood, er, he's hard to read," she had said. "Best to leave him to it, most of the time. It takes a special kind of trust to really get to know him. You need a lot of blind faith, and it's certainly not easy terrain...but I think it's all worth it in the end."

Still, she couldn't live at the window forever. Which is why she went down to the kitchen after a fitful sleep on the third night, gingerly choking down some toast, when the rest returned from the job. Lucy hugged her from behind and George immediately set out four cups as he started to brew some tea. Despite all that, Lockwood still regarded her as stiffly as before, speaking into the distance rather than to her.

"I'm not going to fire you, if that's what you're waiting for."

In that moment, when Lockwood disowned any kind of feeling for her yet again, the last vestiges of her hope slipped away. She thought she knew him. Hell, she thought she loved him. But life was full of mistakes and disappointments, and this was yet another she had to contend with. "Fine. I quit."

Even Lockwood was momentarily stunned as she slipped past him up to the attic, blurrily throwing in anything that looked vaguely like hers into a her bags. Lucy had followed her, trying to talk some sense into her, but it all fell on deaf ears. Only George was in the kitchen by the time she was done packing, and he looked oddly forlorn as he waved at her distractedly. The door to the library was open as she shouldered past the memories of the life they had on her way to the front door. Lockwood was in his chair facing the fireplace, back to the door, glaring a hole into his book, looking as furious as she was just a few days ago.

She didn't have anything to say to him, which was just as well, because he clearly didn't have anything to say to her. She stepped out into the night, twisting sprigs of lavender in her hair, walking off into the night. George came up to the library, sighing loudly at the door, and Lockwood jerked up irritatedly.

"What?"

"Couldn't wait till after tea, could you?"

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

Three weeks later, her memories of the three of them were more diluted than she would have liked. With the little savings she had, she managed to rent a cramped apartment which didn't leave much room for decoration, which was just as well, as she didn't have many mementos. She wasn't the best at preserving memories, so all she had were some odd photos on the few times she remembered her camera.

Lockwood was in the pictures too. As hard as she tried, she couldn't just cut him and his presence out of her life; they were too irrevocably tied together. Some nights, before sleeping, she would trace the outline of his face on the one focused photograph she had of him, and wonder if she'd still recognise his voice. In spite of herself, she wondered if he ever thought about her the way she dreamt about him.

The summer heat faded, and these days rain drizzled from the sky like a leaky tap. In her case, that also meant a leaking roof, and the constant drip of the water into the bucket drove her nuts. It was the little things like the leaking roof and the refrigerator with a loud hum that never allowed her to truly rest, always kept her on the edge, that made her new life distinctly more uncomfortable than her old.

She heard a faint disjointed knock on her door. She opened the door to see a gaunt and wane Lockwood, significantly paler than she remembered. She was speechless, not quite sure what to do, and he just seemed relieved enough to see her in person. He still stood the same way he did when meeting new clients, with an air of formality, and she half-expected him to shake her hand. Instead, he pulled her into a hug; a proper one, where his arms went all the way around her. The kind of hug that made you want to cry.

She gripped the sleeve of his coat not unlike the way she did all those weeks ago, and she was suddenly aware of how little the weeks passed meant. Nothing had changed between them, except for this deep yearning tainting the fervour of their grip on each other. He still felt this need to protect her but sucked at communicating, she still reached out to him instinctively in danger but yelled at him for not putting himself first. Strife and misunderstandings were still rife in their relationship, but she had never missed fighting and loving someone the way she had missed Lockwood.

"I'm sorry," he was mumbling into her hair. "I don't know why it took me so long to realise you felt the same way I did. I guess we just express fear in different ways."

"You always were slow."

He pulled back, softly smiling in a way that erased some of his wrinkles. But the smile slipped away, and she felt the worry tugging down the corners of his mouth. "It's just...I've never felt this way about anyone before. I don't know how to express it all the time so sometimes it just feels easier to convince myself it's not there. But it Smooths things over, you know?" He inhaled shakily, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb. She could feel how hard it was for him to admit all this. "I felt it most when you were gone. It...it weighed on my mind. Never let me be fully at peace." His lips quirked into a small smile. "Much like you. I'd do anything for you, and I think that scares me."

"It scares me too. I guess the only way I could think of handling it was proving you were more scared than me. As if that would somehow make me strong and not...weak. Or vulnerable." She sighed, as if all the exhaustion of the past few weeks had all caught up to her in this very moment. "You make me crumble, Lockwood, but I've never felt stronger."

His eyes unfocused as his hand on her cheekbone slipped. "What if I can't protect you? What if I can't drive away every single visitor in time? What if you get hurt? How do people live like this?"

She held his hands, stopping his spiral. "I think I have enough experience driving away people who are more than a little obsessed with me."

He laughed, pulling her into a hug. What once felt overstimulating was now oddly comforting. The beat of his heart, the rhythm of his breath, the vibrations of his laughter...she wanted to feel that every day for the rest of her life.

"What I did...it really was different. You do realise that, right?"

"Yes."

"I had my rapier with me."

"You did."

"You didn't have anything."

"Hmm, I panicked." He continued hastily under her stern gaze. "What I mean is, I will try to be more careful. Promise." He put on his most angelic expression. She rolled her eyes. She took his hand as they stepped out in the final drops of summer rain. Life together wasn't always going to be smooth-sailing, or even remotely manageable, but she had a feeling that they would be alright.

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of It - Friends

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, no warnings.

Word count: 985

Summary: She and Andy do the washing up after dinner with some old friends.

Masterlist

----

Jason followed Andy into Roy’s kitchen. Roy had given them strict instructions not to touch the dishes, which was cute of him. 

With unspoken agreement, they descended in tandem on the mess left from dinner. Through the kitchen windows the first stray stars of the night were glinting through ragged clouds above the Seattle skyline. Inside was bright and comfortable. The house might have been small but Roy had made it a home. It always made Jason’s week to see how well the two of them were doing. 

Roy was in bedtime negotiations with a now six year old Lian. Dick and Babs were in the living room deciding what movie the adults would watch. 

Andy rolled up her sleeves and started rinsing off dishes, while Jason filled the dishwasher. They moved around each other easily, exchanging crockery and lightly bumping hips. 

They were on day four of a much needed holiday. He never noticed just how tired he was until he left Gotham and took a moment to breathe, then it hit him all at once. He was just starting to recover from the initial exhaustion. 

Dinner had been great, with surprisingly little work talk, and not just for Lian’s sake. Andy and Babs got to talking about library funding and the general state of the education system with great passion. It turned out the two were closer than he realised, which he thought was great. They were quite possibly planning an infiltration of Gotham’s local council to redirect funds to public schools, which was terrifying. 

Lian asked if there could be more funding for silent reading time. Everyone agreed this was a very wise suggestion. 

She was such a cute kid. She hung onto Jason’s neck when they first got there and refused to let go, making him cart her around the house. Andy took a couple of photos, because they were adorable together. He knew. They put on their best smiles for the camera. 

They ran out of things for the dishwasher and Andy turned to what needed to be hand washed. Jason picked up the tea towel and got busy drying. 

Andy bumped his hip. He bumped her back, maybe a bit too hard. She gave him a look and flicked soap suds at him.

He squawked and cracked the towel at her backside. 

She yelped and burst out laughing. She brandished the scrubbing brush to ward him off. He smirked at her, and spun the towel to make it a better weapon. 

“You two better not be doing dishes in there!” Roy called. 

“Na, we’re drinking all your booze,” Jason yelled back.

“I knew it,” Roy said, stepping into the kitchen and ushering a pyjama-d Lian in before him. “Little Miss Pumpkin is here to say goodnight.”

“Goodnight! Goodnight! Goodnight!” 

Both of them got swift hugs. Then she was herded off to the living room to say goodnight to the others. 

Andy smiled at their retreating backs. She was good with kids, Jason privately noted. He focused on the gravy boat he was drying. 

Soon he was done, everything was either set out to soak and Andy was left scrubbing a casserole dish. 

Jason watched her narrow her eyes at the stubborn burnt bits, and set her shoulders with equal stubbornness. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder. 

She made a soft sound and tilted her head to rub against his cheek. 

“You enjoying yourself?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah. It’s always good to see Roy again. And Lian is so much bigger than the photos.” Her shoulders relaxed. “I’m glad we did this.”

“Me too.”

She held the dish up to the light and examined it critically, focusing again. He stayed holding onto her, but raised his chin to rest on top of her head. 

“Those two have gone very quiet in the living room,” she said.

He hummed. Jason was sworn to secrecy, but Dick hid a diamond ring in his pocket. Technically those two weren’t on a holiday and were on this side of the country for work reasons, but he had plans to set up something romantic tomorrow before heading home. 

Jason highly suspected he wouldn’t last that long, Dick had been watching Babs throughout the night like a man seeing stars for the first time. Disgustingly saccharine, Jason called it, without a hint of sincerity. 

He was so happy for them. 

He tightened his grasp on Andy. He was happy just in general, in fact. It was unnerving. Good things didn’t happen to him, and when they did, it was just a pretense for something worse to get its claws into him. He was the sucker who kept sticking his hand on the stove and kept getting burned, over and over. 

Or at least, so he used to say. Somewhere along the way he had stopped believing it. 

Now here they were, welcomed in by an old friend. Telling jokes with Roy who was more stable than Jason could ever recall, who didn’t hide the old track marks in his arm anymore. With Babs who was more confident and powerful in her wheelchair than she had ever been before it, and Dick, who you would never know forgot himself after a bullet punched a hole in his skull. Andy, who was free, and Jason himself.

The enormity of it choked him. 

Andy made an inquisitive noise, even though he knew he hadn't said anything. She read him so well.

“Since when are we dinner party people?” he asked, a little disgruntled. 

“Since, hmm, about three hours ago?”

“Weird.”

She chuckled. She put aside the last dish, and leaned back against him a little. He kissed her hair. 

Funny, how you could yearn for what you already had. 

“Alright, baby?” she asked quietly. 

He wound his arms tighter, one arm resting over her heart, and the other across her stomach. He closed his eyes and relished her warmth. 

“Yeah. I’m… I’m good.”

Next>>

[openshanklygates]

Never Ashamed

Whumpril 2024 April 3, 2024 SHAME Alex Shelley/Chris Sabin Main Verse

Two hundred and eighteen days.

Alex Shelley had been the Impact World Champion for two hundred and eighteen days. For most people that would be a title reign to be proud of. He had faced off against and beaten some of the best in the world. Hiroshi Tanahashi, Josh Alexander, even Jonathan Gresham had stepped up to the plate and all had been sent back to the back of the line. He had led the Impact roster all the way into the new era of TNA. They were all honorable moments.

So losing to a cheat and a bully like Moose brought him so much shame.

The sun was rising against the Las Vegas skyline, but Alex had yet to go to sleep. His mind raced with the events of the night before. What if he had been just a little more aggressive? What if he had put just a little more of himself into the match? Would the championship still be sitting next to the hotel room television, reflecting the hotel room bed where he and Chris Sabin currently laid, his partner pressed into his side snoring peacefully.

Chris.

In his loss, Alex had almost forgotten to congratulate Chris on his historic win. It was officially the longest reign that Chris had ever had, his tenth as X-Division Champion. El Hijo del Vikingo was no joke for such a young talent and Kushida, well, Alex felt like it would be cheating to say anything more about this best friend. Alex was certain that Chris would have preferred meeting up with some of the other roster members for drinks and a laugh. instead, Chris had stayed behind to hold Alex until he fell asleep.

"You could do so much better than me," Alex murmured to his sleeping companion, pressing a kiss to the top of Chris's head. He attempted to get up, but Chris snuggled in closer and tossed a leg over both of Alex's to trap him there.

"Shuttup," Chris tiredly murmured, burying his head in the crook of Alex's neck, "'stoo early for this."

Alex gave a small laugh, "Go back to sleep. I'm just gonna-"

"You are gonna do nothing but sleep," Chris protested, raising his head to scowl at Alex. It would have been much more intimidating if he didn't have to squint at Alex to properly see him. "I don't wanna get up. I don't wanna have you get up. I think I earned it. Ch-"

Chris cut himself off, closing his eyes before Alex spoke up, "No! No, you're right! Champ's privilege. You earned it. You did so good."

"Yeah, but you-"

"Let you down, that much I know," Alex admitted, "I should-"

"Shut up and kiss me," Chris nuzzled the back of Alex's neck, "we are gonna lay in this bed til you go to sleep."

"I don't need sl-"

"I said we are gonna lay here til you get some sleep," Chris groaned a little more forcefully. He tightened his grip on Alex, who sank further into the mattress. He may have felt shame, but at least he knew Chris was here to love him through it.

[hergrandplan]

Hey Nina 💜,

I was wondering about 🌀❄️🌩️ for the writer asks.

Hope you're having a beautiful day!

Hi Sophia, I hope you're having a wonderful day too!!

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

Simply because @bigalockwood shared her end of the deal... (like hers, I am writing summary right now, no other part of this fic exists yett but... it will. this summary is a lot less long though so i apologize if you expected more sakldgj)

If there's one thing you can be sure about when it comes to a Simon Eriksson music video, it's that Wille's going to be in it, one way or another.

Or: despite growing protests of directors and producers, Simon and Wille do everything in their power to get Wille a cameo in every. single. music video

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

okay i took the longest time debating over what to share and mostly, whether im not plugging this fic that won't go up for months too much but.... have the first few passages of a fic that i'm way too excited about

“I’m going to the Oscars, of course I’m going to bring my best friend as a plus one.”

The video cut to a shot of Felice Ehrencrona, former-actress-turned-food-influencer, walking arm in arm with former Crown Prince Wilhelm, laughing at some joke the audience wasn’t privy to. Simon scrolled past it, onto the next video, the same trend but a different person. “I’m an older sibling, of course”. He closed the app, choosing to stare out the window, watching the LA skyline pass by instead.

Why the Oscars thought it a smart idea to also start inviting influencers, despite the backlash other award shows like the Grammy’s and even the MET gala had received over doing exactly that, was beyond him.

It’s not like anyone actually cared enough about them, and people would only complain about it online.

Plus, what right did they have to be there? It was an award show for actors and actresses. And sure, Felice had done some acting gigs in the beginning of her career, but that was years ago. Inviting influencers took the whole prestige out of it. And to bring the former crown prince with her on top of that? Ugh.

Simon already found it hard enough that he had to deal with actual celebrities who’d probably manage to complain about every minor detail, and now he had to deal with influencers as well? Who somehow had gotten the thought in their head that they were even better than anyone else?

And not to mention a former crown prince, who probably had everything that ever happened to him, every opportunity, just handed to him on a silver platter, and who had never been told no or what he could or couldn’t do.

Maybe Simon should also hop on the trend.

“I’m going to be working at the Oscars, of course someone is going to yell at me because I brought them a regular coke instead of a diet.”

What a glamourous life he had.

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

Simon sat down on the couch next to Wille, the widest grin possible on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. “I met someone. And I’m pretty sure he’s the one.”

“You said that about the previous guy. And the guy before that. And the guy before that.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m sure of it.” Simon fell back against the couch cushions, and ran a hand through his black curls. “He’s sweet, and considerate, and incredible in bed. I mean the way he–“

“Okay, okay, I do not need to hear you go on about your sexual escapades again, please. Where did you meet him?”

Simon’s hand got stuck in his curls, and he blushed. Actually blushed, and that’s how Wille knew the answer.

“Please don’t say the club.”

Simon didn’t reply.

“Simon, we talked about this. Not every guy you fuck is the one.”

Come ask me about WIPs! (and i have too many so repeats are fine)

[slothgiirl]

a rose by any other name epilogue

reader x druig.

New York. North Dakota. 2024.

You had never been to New York before. Not in this life, or any other. You weren’t sure this counted either.

Seeing a city from the airport cab ride to Doctor Strange’s place in the city seemed like cheating. You’d seen the famous skyline, but hadn’t step foor anywhere.

“Is there some superhero directory I’m not aware of,” you ask Druig, craning your neck. You were pretty sure that was central park, gone in a flash.

“Sanctums are quite stationary,” he shrugs, licking ketchup off his fingers. You thought airport hotdogs were a bag idea. “This one’d been around since the 1700s. When it was New Amsterdam.” 

“Wasn’t Hong Kong closer?”

Druig shakes his head, “we need someone. . .flexible about all those rules they made about the mystic arts.”

“Two thousand years and it never occured to you until now,” you ask him, slouching into the seat. The world was still intact. The news hasn’t stopped reporting on the new chain of islands in the indian ocean that look like fingers. 

Tiamut was neither alive or dead in some weird cosmic energy thing you didn’t understand. 

Druig looks over at you sheepishly, “I had other things on my mind.” His gaze flickers down to your chest.

It’s probably the whole averted apocalypse that has you in such an indulgent mood; you lean you head against his shoulder and smack his chest lightly.

“Careful my lady,” he says sounding terribly smug, “Ikaris did attempt to murder me.”

“I guess I’ll have to finish the job,” you rest your hand against his chest, feeling his ribcage move as he breathes. He wasn’t fine. 

Druig was careful to keep weight off his left foot. 

Phastos had given him the all clear which didn’t make you feel much better. Not when two of them had died in the span of days. 

Phastos had left quickly, unable to be away from his family for any longer. 

“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be,” he laughs.

“I guess I could let it slide,” you meet his gaze, feeling immense relief all over again, “you did just save the world.”

Druig tips his chin up, looking full of himself. 

There was a lightness to him that you’d missed, a playfulness that was so characteristic of your Eternal lover. Your eyes rover over his features that you knew so well. The scar on his cheekbone, near the outer corner of his eyes, had not faded at all. The way his brilliant blue eyes crinkled with easy smiles and how his laugh filled a room. 

He was there. Alive. You were both alive. 

So many lives and you continued to be enamoured of him. It never got old, being in love, making a home with him. Anyplace, anytime. 

There were tears in your eyes.

Again.

All you’d done this week was cry.

“I did,” he nods, pressing his lips against your hair. “Though if you hear Phastos tell it-”

“Yeah,” you clutch the fabric of his shirt. 

Sensing your somber mood, Druig wraps his arms around you. “I’m right here, love.” He tucks your head under his chin, “‘S alright.”

“When the plane started to shake,” you say quietly, “I thought that was it-” It was over. The world ending with you in a private plane. 

There had been so many close calls.

“The world’s always ending,” you mutter, breathing in his scent. You understood Lizzy, finally. 

It was never over. Earth was still in trouble after Thanos.

Captain Marvel had her hands full with the rest of the universe.

“Is this what being part of the universe is like?” Always being scared some empire would come in and take over, being invaded, some asshole destroying your planet for no reason. You didn’t want to sit by and hope for the best. You couldn’t.

It would drive you mad.

“I-,” he frowns. “Well, I wouldn’t really know. Don’t remember anything but Earth.”

“All those planets-” you shift your gaze out the window as the cab pulls to a stop. What about the planets where Arishem got their way? 

“I know.” 

Druig’s expression grows weary. It was the same way he’d looked when Ajak had forbidden them from aiding the Mexica from smallpox and the genocide on the horizon. He wasn’t going to let this go.

You pay for the cab. 

The sanctum is an unassuming building. The plaque is the only way you know you’re in the right place. 

You're surprised there's no awards for saving half the universe. No Avengers insignia for Doctor Strange. 

Druig holds your hand.

“This isn’t some. . .” you pause, “He can help right?” You didn’t understand much of anything when it came to magic. 

“If not,” his eyes glow. “I can always. . .”

It’s comforting. 

“Okay.” You nod.

The world was still spinning. There was nothing else you could do but go for it. 

Dr. Strange seemed the type to break whatever rules suited him, very Iron Man-esque who thought he was above the Sokovia Accords. Right? You try not to think to hard about Ultron. About ashes and world heritage sites getting destroyed by the latest threat. The London Eye was still closed. 

You breathe.

And knock against the door.

It swings open.

You aren’t sure what to expect as you step through: cauldrons and black witches hats covered in dust and cobwebs. The last sanctum had been ordinary for it’s time, filled with students and ancient sayings in calligraphy hanging on the walls. That isn’t New York either. It lacks the faux orientalism prevalent in Europe circa the 1800s. 

No, the New York sanctum feels like a rundown hotel that’s decades past its prime but no less grand for it. There’s tasteful tables with relics you imagine are just as magical as Phastos inventions. 

You peer around the grand staircase, expecting to see someone. “Hello?” You don’t have to check to know Druig’s a step behind you. His presence is an anchor as you venture further into the sanctum. 

There were no students. 

It feels abandoned compared with Hong Kong. 

Your chest tightens at the thought of the sleepy fishing village. Hong Kong was nothing like that now. There was a certain pain that came with knowing the world was transformed each time you lived. You thought of street food vendors whose names only you knew. 

All that history you carried with you. The faces of people you’d loved. The memories of books that had not survived. 

You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. 

In your mind’s eye, the ashes of the Snap were the same as the smoke of Tenochtitlan burning. 

Druig sets his hands on your shoulders, “do you think they have an Instagram we can message?”

“Ha, very funny,” Dr. Strange walks in from a corridor, looking over his shoulder like a teenager sneaking out of the house, “do you mind if we move this into the laundry room. Don’t want Wong to interrupt us,” he says even as he leads the way.

“You were expecting us. . .Dr. Strange,” you state aloud looking for confirmation. It was a parlour trick for these sorcerers. 

“Yes and no.” He whips his head, turning to you as he opens a door, “and please call me Stephan. Dr. Strange is grandiose even by my standards.”

“And the discount Jedi robes aren’t,” Druig says cocking his brows. 

You elbow him, “look who’s talking.”

“My lady,” he holds his hand against his chest in mock offence.

You roll your eyes at him. 

Stephan looks on, amused. “I foresaw the high possibility that you’d stop here. . .it the world wasn’t destroyed, if you both survived, if you chose to leave. There’s so many factors. A background in statistics is useful in the mystic arts.”

“Well that’s no fun.” You’d been hoping for less maths and more wand waving. In the news, it seemed so easy, just a wave of his hands and-TA DA. 

“And neither is reincarnating,” Stephan snarks back, taking a seat on a laundry basket full of either robes or linens. 

You purse your lips. “It’s not ideal. But not awful.” You never really remembered dying unless it was awful. That hadn’t happened in a while. No, it was more like being homesick for a time and place that didn’t exist but people struggled with that all the time. People moved so often in this century: never knowing when they’d go back home. 

And that wasn’t even touching on displaced people. Millions of Sokovian refugees. . .

“So you're not here to get that fixed?” Stephan asks pointedly. 

He must’ve decided to become a doctor by watching House M.D. Copied the whole schtick off there. 

“I thought it couldn’t be. . .changed.” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. You wish you could google this magic stuff. You didn’t like being so badly informed. 

“No. The spell you cast can’t be modified,” Stephan agrees, “I’d have to break it and create a new one. Though granting any type of immortality is a big no-no in the mystic arts.”

“Which is why we’re hiding,” Druig infers.

Stephan Strange frowns ruefully, “I’m not Sorcerer Supreme anymore or it’d be my call. I still-I’m still going to help.”

“Right?” 

“Earth needs all the allies it can get.”

“So not out of the kindness of your heart,” you surmise, feeling like a pawn. You’d never liked how Ikaris and Ajak had made you feel like a tag along. Like Druig’s human pet. It left a bad taste in your mouth. 

“You don’t think you’ve lived long enough?”

And wasn’t that also true. You’d been lucky to witness so much. History and people and spend it with the man you loved, your soulmate, not just once but over and over. It was far longer than most people got. You’d told Druig something similar once. 

What made you so special you deserved an exception?

“Oi,” Druig stiffens. 

But this wasn’t his call. This wasn’t about him. Not really. 

This was about you. You who was just another human having an unusual conversation with a peer. Often, you’d be the token human in the Eternals conversation and no matter how long you’d lived there was still something unique about the human experience that you could relate to Stephan Strange in a way that Druig and Sersi would never understand. 

(You’d talk about this with Sprite one day.)

“I think I’ve been very lucky,” you acknowledge. “But all I want is this life. For however long that is. I think I’ve done enough reincarnating, y’know.” It had all been a cosmic accident you didn’t even remember creating. Had you been trying to save yourself and the magic came out like this? Had you meant to create another spell? 

These memories were lost to you now. And they didn’t matter. 

You were done with living again and again. You didn’t want to forget and remember and forget again. You wanted to hold onto all of you, your memories and thoughts and your muchness as it was right now in this moment and die knowing that was the end. Just like everyone else. (You were curious about what came after, if anything.)

“Okay,” Stephan smiles kindly. “I’ll help you. But- this’ll be it. No second chances. No next time. No do overs. You’ll be frozen in time. You’ll still have your magic, but you won’t age. You couldn’t ever have children. You’ll still be just as breakable as me and every other sucker in New York.”

“Alright.” You nod.

“You sure? I can always just break the spell.”

“I’m sure.” 

He nods. “Well then, try and stand still. I need to concentrate.” Dr. Strange waves his hands in cyclical movements. 

It’s like a buzz under you skin. Something’s happening, but it’s too foreign for you to understand what. The small cramped room fills with light. 

You shut your eyes and count, steadying your breath. This was it. 

By this time tomorrow you’d be in space. 

It was crazy when you thought about it. No less crazy than Thanos and New York and falling in love with an alien. 

1. 2. 3. 

Deep breath. 

***

Makkari waves her pointer finger in a circular motion, the most universal hand gesture for spin around. 

You indulge her, “you’re acting like I grew another head or something.”

The speedster smiles, I am glad you are coming with us. 

You grin, “you’re only saying that so I help you with your eReader. Or did you splurge on an Ipad? Wait, you probably stole it.”

Looking awfully mischievous, Makkari holds her finger to her lips, hush now. Didn’t happen if there’s no witnesses.

You laugh, figuring there were worse crimes than stealing from the Apple Store. 

The Domo floated above head. Thena was all packed up and ready to go. You’d said your goodbyes to Sersi, Kingo, and Sprite days ago. 

Now it was just about leaving. Leaving this green and blue rock you called home. 

You bite your bottom lip. It had been hard packing up, mostly because you didn’t know when you’d be back. Clothes, essentials, a magic book from Dr. Strange. Saying your goodbyes hurt the most. 

What would Sprite look like at twenty? You were so used to her as an adolescent. Your siblings. . .

“We don’t have to go.” Druig reaches for your hand. “We can stay if you wish, my lady.”

North Dakota was gloomy today. 

“I want to.” That was true. You also felt bittersweet at leaving this planet. “I want to see the stars. Find the other Eternals.” You meet his startling blue eyes, cupping his cheek. “I want to do all of it with you.” 

He rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I know,” you nod, “just, give me a moment.” You squeeze his hand, before slowly heading towards Thena. You take your time, gazing over the landscape. The grass was brown and dead for the season. You're pretty sure it’s going to rain tonight. 

It was frightening to say goodbye to everything you knew. It was frightening to begin a new chapter after so long. There’s security in the known, in the constant, and now that is gone. But you were ready for it. You were ready to begin a new chapter. You weren’t in this alone. You had Thena and Makkari, and the man you loved and that was all you really needed. The people you loved. 

You look over your shoulder, watching as Druig hugs Phastos, ready to explore the stars.

notes: bookendings with makkari and druig at the end just like how the first chapter was makkari and druig mainly. im making up that dr strange timelooped reader’s physical body so shes frozen in time. idk. idk. he’s also like yeah mb this is important to the cosmos the way he connected the dots that tony start needed to live to defeat thanos. either way druig and reader get to have lots of sex on the domo after saving the world and thena forces makkari to organize her piles of stolen things. mb reader learns to use magic and starts being able to hold her own in a fight.

[atcarpenter]

I’m trying not to turn into mom

Sam is noticing that Tara is ill coping with her life’s history.

addiction, alcoholism, some suicidal ideation, hurt/comfort, angst, referenced child abuse

///

“There you are. Been looking all over for you,” Sam said as she emerged onto the rooftop and her eyes finally landed on Tara. She pulled her jacket a little tighter around herself against the cold night air.

Tara was sitting on the wide rim of the rooftop with one foot propped up and her chin resting on her knee, looking out over the city lights of New York by night. There was a bottle of not-so-cheap and not-low-percentage liqueur standing at Tara’s foot. It was hard to tell from where Sam stood in the dim light how empty the bottle was already. 

When she heard Sam’s voice, Tara turned her head towards her, and Sam got closer. She had known this had been going on even if Tara had made a valiant and partially successful attempt at hiding it from everyone, including Sam whom she lived with. Sam was pleased when Tara actually spoke up without being prompted by Sam first. She was less pleased with what she ended up saying.

“I am trying not to turn into mom. I am trying so hard, Sam.” There were dark shadows under her eyes that Sam had watched getting worse and worse over the recent days, weeks even, and her voice sounded so tired.

Sam eyed the bottle at her sister's feet. For a while she said nothing and then sat down beside her. 

“You know I have experience with this,” she offered. She reached out a hand and squeezed her sister’s leg. She looked over at Tara, cocking her head a little to the side. “Talk to me.” Tara released a slow breath.

“It’s just hard. I didn’t think it’d be like this.” She wiped a single tear off the corner of her eye with one hand before it could spill. Her jaw ticked, and Sam watched her throat bob. “You know, I used to find her like this? In the living room or the kitchen, drinking alone. After you left, I got so fucking scared of her. You know you left me alone with a monster, right? One time, she hit me so hard I had a black eye for weeks. Amber is the only one who noticed. I caked it up with makeup instead of telling anyone, like an idiot.” God, Sam hated when she sounded this bitter, but the guilt gnawing at her guts told her rightfully she had no business feeling that way. Not when it was her who had caused all this.

“I know. I’m really sorry, Tara,” she said calmly, squeezing her leg again, wanting to reach out and pull her against her chest. She had thought that she herself had been the monster that Tara had needed protecting from when she left. But Tara didn't need excuses right now, so she didn't say that. Tara sniffled and looked back at the skyline.

“It's fine. You thought she hated you. You thought she wouldn't care if you left. But she did.”

She doubted that Christina had really cared. Leaving might have affected her, but she doubted it had somehow been because she had secretly loved Sam. 

Instead of voicing her thoughts, Sam asked her, “Tara, is this the first time it's been this bad?”

Tara was silent for a moment and then nodded. “I’d get hammered with Amber, and then we’d have sex, and we’d stay the night and feel gross in the morning, but I never regretted it, not the drinking or the drunk sex. I regret this all the time.” She kicked lightly in the direction of the bottle. “Drinking alone is just sad.”

“T, you’re not alone.” She could see the dissent in Tara’s eyes. “I’m right here.”

“I don’t know how to stop myself coming up here, Sam.” Her answer felt heavy. Her voice was thick.

Sam knew only too well. “It's not easy. But you need to find something else. It can be anything. It just needs to be something strong enough to keep you occupied elsewhere. Just, when you feel like this, come to me instead. Yeah?” she prompted gently, trying to see if anything she had said was getting through to her.

“What’s your ‘something else’?” Tara asked as she glanced up, the city’s lights looking oddly like stars as they reflected in the tears in her eyes. 

You. 

“Work,” Sam shrugged. “Keeps me busy, distracted.” Tara at least seemed to consider her words.

“I’ll try to find something, I promise,” she mumbled quietly, though obviously, she hadn’t found anything on the spot yet. It was sad to think there was nothing stronger than the whiskey in Tara’s life at this moment, but Sam couldn’t claim she didn’t know the feeling. Something sad flickered over Tara’s sullen face. “I would just like to stop getting stabbed by people I love,” she grumbled and kicked her foot at the ground, only narrowly missing the bottle that all the stabbing had led to. 

Love?

Despite the more pressing topics of the conversation, Sam stumbled over the word and rounded on her with a confused frown marring her brow. “You didn't �� with Ethan …?”

Looking up with a blank expression, Tara took a second to get what she had leapt to. “What? No, of course not!” Tara stopped her when she realised what she meant and shook her head. Sam felt awkward for assuming, and for interrupting the much more relevant parts of the talk.

“Okay, good … Not that I’d jud–”

“I did consider it with Quinn though,” Tara cut her off casually.

“Quinn?” Sam repeated, stumbling again, bewildered. 

Tara looked affronted. “You thought about it too! Don't deny it!”

Sam conceded with a small shrug. She had at least considered it. Once. Or twice. 

They fell silent for a while. 

“Tara, why do you come up here to the roof?” Sam interrupted the night’s peace with caution. “You never considered …” she trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken as she glanced out over the corner of the rooftop before looking back at her younger sister. 

Tara looked at her and then clicked her tongue. “No. No, of course not,” she rebuffed her claim, but she had waited too long. Sam eyed her uneasily.

“Okay. Okay,” she pretended to believe her. 

“I just come up here so you don't see.”

“You would tell me if …” she went on.

There was another pause in Tara's speech before she answered listlessly, “Sure. I’ll tell you.” Sam tried not to read into the difference between “will” and “would” too much. She knew Tara wouldn't stick to her word. She knew she herself would also not tell anyone if it ever got that bad. But pushing her now wouldn’t change that, she thought.

Instead, she opened her arms and gestured at Tara.

“Come here.”

Tara took a second to regard her before scooting over and turning around to lean her back against Sam’s chest. Putting her arms around her sister and pulling her tight against herself, Sam pressed her cheek against her hair. “You know, I love you so much.”

Tara sat silent for a long moment, absently running her fingers over Sam’s forearm. “Love you too, Sam.”

She almost couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had last held her sister like this, and Sam just enjoyed it without reservation for a little while, letting her eyes close as she listened to their breathing and the city’s sounds far below, her sister’s heartbeat held safely against her chest, guarded by her arms.

“I’m throwing the whiskey out even if it cost a fuck ton of money,” she murmured against Tara’s shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Tara flinched apologetically. “I didn’t even drink that much tonight.”

“Just let it be the last time,” Sam continued in the same murmur.

“Mhm,” Tara hummed an uncertain and unconvincing affirmative.

Sam hoped it would just be one of the last times, at least.

[writings-05]

I'll always protect you

I just wrote this on the spot, here's some Changin fluff for everyoneee <3

Description : Y/N is anxious but thank god she got her boyfriend.

TW: mention of feeling anxious, crying a bit

1617 words

The noise of the boys laughing, screaming and having fun could still be heard by you even if you had your earbuds in. You have to finish reading this long ass book before the end of the weekend for you finals exam next week and of course you waited until the last moment to do all the reading. You were currently in the practice room of a boy group called Stray Kids. Why you might ask? Well because you were currently dating your childhood friend and best friend Seo Changbin who was also a part of the group, they were getting recognised worldwide and were starting to prepare for their next comeback. You on the other hand are a uni student with god knows how many assignments that are due soon and you just wished you could fast forward time to summer vacation. You have known Changbin forever and you started dating about 2 years ago, he had always had a crush on you and your feelings simply grew as you both started growing up. It wasn’t easy to manage between his idol life and your student life but hey you weren’t going to complain, he was the perfect boyfriend anyone could ever ask for. Since you knew Changbin then ofc you knew also the rest of Straykids hence the reason why you had your laptop, tablet, books and papers all on the ground in one corner of the practice room and no one really paid attention to the mess, they all knew you were currently craming for your finals and really didn’t need a distraction. Usually, the main reason why you liked to work with them around was because they kept you up, you knew with all the ruckus going on around you, you weren’t going to fall asleep anytime soon while studying. Except today was one of those days, the days were you felt more anxious than usual and actually all the noises around you disturbed you and triggered something inside of you. Changbin was the one who asked you to join them today and you didn’t find it in your heart to refuse, but since this morning when all the noise outside was too much and all you wanted was to curl back into bed and not move you knew today was one of those days.

Changbin was so concentrated on his work that he didn’t even realise that the love of his life was not doing well. You simply got up and went outside to the rooftop of the building. You came out and felt the cold fresh air of spring hit your face and fill your lungs. You took a big breath in and let it out. You opened your eyes and looked out at the skyline of Seoul, such a big city, so much going on at the same time, you wonder how many people are also looking out at the sky as you were. “I knew I could find you here.” A strong but gentle arm made its way around your waist and you felt yourself being pressed against someone’s strong chest. The smell of a all to familiar musk made its way into your nose and you breathed that in in a long breath. “You okay love?” Changbin asked as he felt you melt into his embrace and sigh, he could feel something was wrong since this morning which is why he suggested that you came at the studio with him, soulmate things I guess. “Yeah.. well no but now yes.” You said as you turned around and hugged him. You kissed his cheek and looked into his eyes. They were sparkling with the lights of the city which looked like stars for you, ever since your relationship with Changbin got more intimate you really felt blessed to be able to hold such a gentle, nice and caring being. Being able to wake up next to him, to have him listen to your worries, laughing with him, late night talks, anything really that was done with him by your side was amazing.

Changbin kissed your forehead and hugged you even tighter if that was even possible “What’s bothering you princess?”. Gosh 2 years together and the pet names still trigger butterflies in your stomach, Changbin always knew you liked being called by pet names as they always added a more intimate meaning to your conversations. “Everything ?” you chuckled a bit feeling a bit dumb for saying that “Just idk I why I feel more anxious today, like all the noises around me stress me out and trigger something idk some sort of stress. I love spending time with you all but I guess it’s the uni work just catching up to me I guess.” You replied talking faster than you intended to, something Changbin realised that you do when you feel a bit embarrassed. “I just want to get all of this over with and spend the summer having fun with you and the others.” You add. Changbin just listened, watching you carefully and you fidget with the strings of his hoodie. Before Changbin you didn’t really feel like anyone ever listened to you like he does. Listening and actually giving constructive advice is something a lot of people just don’t do anymore these days. “Okay bun, I understand. Would you like to go back home ? I can stay here with the guys and as soon as we’re done I’ll coming rushing home to my sweetheart.” He said as he put a finger under your chin and lifted your head up. You looked up at him and nodded, the idea seemed doable, being home alone for a few hours might help you get your ideas straight and actually finish all the work you have. You tip toed a bit to reach his lips and gave him a quick kiss. Smiling afterwards you hugged him and thanked him for listening.

You arrived home, you opened your door and put down your heavy bag of uni stuff. When you said goodbye to the others they all had a sad face, telling you to stay for dinner but you just smiled and said you’ll eat with them another time. I mean you will see them again like tomorrow but they liked to be a bit extra. You slumped down into your couch and felt a few tears coming out, ah there it was you thought, you knew you needed to cry, you don’t know why but just needed to let out a bit. You dried your tears, made yourself a cup of tea and sat down determined to finish your work before your boyfriend comes back home.

It was close to one am when you finally put down your pen and shut down your laptop, you got up and cracked your back with a satisfied smile on your face. You still had one assignment left but you told yourself that you still did a good job and one am was late enough for you to get ready for bed. At the same time Changbin opened the door, you were just clearing out the living room as he entered “Oh you’re not sleeping yet great, here I brought some chicken!” He said happily as he showed you the plastic bag containing the goodies. “Wha- but how did you know I didn’t eat dinner?” you asked a bit surprised ? “Soulmate things babe” he said as he winked at you. You shake your head as you take the goodies from his hand, your oh so sweet boyfriend take this as an opportunity to slam you (gently) against his chest and hug you again. “I missed you” he said with a small voice while sniffing your hair which you were sure did not smell great “Missed you too” you answered as you carefully kept your balance and the plastic bag in your hand. “Go sit down let’s eat this together” you said as you looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back, pecked your forehead and went into the living room. You came back out of the kitchen with 2 plates and drinks for the both of you.

You were eating and talking about everything and anything, you told him how you finished most of your work and even tho there was still some left you were still proud of yourself for finishing some of it. He looked at you and was happy that you weren’t giving yourself a hard time, being proud of your accomplishments even if they’re small is already a win. You both cleaned up and washed up as you made your way to your bed. You laid down and Changbin turned off the lights and came next to you, hugging you again so your faces were a mere centimetre apart. “Thank you” you said like a whisper “For what?” he said with a smile as he kissed your nose. “For everything, being here for me, just thank you.” You said as you looked at him with tears in your eyes, you just felt very grateful for everything right now. Changbin simply looked at you as he flipped the both of you so you were on your back, he slowly approached his lips to yours and kissed you sweetly and tenderly. You both stopped to breath as he looked into your eyes and said “I’ll always be here Y/N, always here for you, and always going to protect you.” This time it was you who leaned forward to kiss him again conveying all your emotions into the kiss. The night was spent with the both of you kissing each other as you talked once again about everything and anything.

[isolctions]

What a fucking smartass.

Then again, it was also the most words she'd ever heard out of Marquis since she'd been here.

"Yeah fuckin' right — so I can hear yo' sister's fuckin' mouth 'cause I let you?" She pulls a face at him, briefly imagining how much it would fuck up Braylen's day if she called and told her about sanitation peeling her kid brother's body off the sidewalk, but Izidora could never be built like that. If anything, she would have ignored the spirits' and their warnings regarding her safety, would have made every attempt to bring his soul back to his living body, regardless of how dangerous the entire act could have been for her in her pregnancy. (Did he deserve her divine intervention after everything? No. But she saw herself in his anger, and it made her skin go all prickly.) "Oh. So you the one wit' no home training, then. — Makes two of us."

Somewhere among all of his words — and really, Izidora's listening: a bit thrown off that he's talking to her this much, but tuned in nonetheless — she looks for a seat. Frowns at a spare bucket before she drags it to the railing where Marquis stood. She wasn't facing the view of the skyline like he was, but she lowers herself against the seat nonetheless, with hands cradling her belly as the weight of silence overtook them again. He was right about Braylen being different, right about not having a place, and still she can only think of Carina. Of the first few nights after taking Carina home from the facility: how sometimes at night, her sister would run away from the apartment in the middle of the night, almost like she wanted to go back to the chains. How sometimes, Izidora would think that the only thing she'd been good at was being forced to lay under strange men. How sometimes, even now, Izidora still feels hands on her skin, so she digs nails & knives into her forearms until she was bloody & dazed.

She hates thinking.

"What happened? You got a sister who love you." Is all she could say. It echoed loudly in the Miami wind. "That ain' enough for you, though, so you need to find you some shit that make yo' life fuckin' worth living." Her cousin said it to her before, when she'd inevitably woken up alive again, in some cheap hotel bed, in tears after slashing her wrists for the third time that week. For all Izi knew, he was probably the same age that she was then, too. Eventually, she looks up at Marquis, a little more sincerity this time.

"Bein' fuckin' miserable ain' a hobby. Getchu' one."

It cracked a smile, the way she clocked him even through his, until now, quiet and try-to-be-invisible demeanor, “Jump? And make it easy for you? Nah, — I was in and out as a kid though, till a year ago.” He doesn’t go into detail about why. The why would reveal the blood that only the court of law knew about and that was enough to charge him with life without parole. Then he’d have to explain just how far the Knights connects go into South Florida. How he planned for a lifetime in the system, then one day he was being picked up by Braylen and Kahari from the facility.

“Been out for a year now. But… I guess, my job got dissolved once Bray started running shit. She different.” Cristian ran things with a more violent tone. Take, conquer, rip their heads off and Marquis was his favorite leashed dog. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his father, even risk enslavement to prison. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, eyes stuck on the pink and palm trees of it all. Thinking of a time of big and infamous purpose. “Life ain’t leveraged no more. I was trained ol’ school— You know? Get it back in blood type. Now I….gotta hide instead and fix broken watches and shit. —What happened?”

[bonky-n-steeb]

I cant stop thinking about reader having moved from San Francisco having had a past relationship with Eddie/Venom but now works for the Avengers and is flirty with Stucky and Eddie comes to work with them or visit idk anyway I need Eddie/Venom & Stucky porn please 😩😂😂😂

Okay wow. You’ve officially broken my brain. Also this became a one shot as I have no control over myself.

reignite

summary || You, Eddie, Steve, Bucky and Venom have an orgy.

warnings || unprotected sex. vaginal sex. anal sex. facefucking. tentacles. handjobs. blowjobs. oral sex. rimming. cum licking. squirting. hint of stucky and symbrock. possessive venom. MINORS DNI

this is the first time I’ve written something like this. I hope you like this ;)

Venom couldn’t digest seeing you flirt around with Steve and Bucky. ‘Mine.’ Was all that he kept saying into Eddie’s head everytime you came into view. You and Eddie had broken up on amicable terms but venom had been pestering him about letting you go ever since.

You had decided to move to New York and accept a job offer of being the avengers’ PR agent. While you did look after the others on the team, you paid special attention to the super soldiers, because either they purposefully came to you with complaints to spend time with you, or they were really dumb as fuck.

What began as harmless flirting soon had turned into thick sexual tension. Lingering glances and touches. And you were just waiting for the day it would all come bubbling up and they’d just fuck you.

But then Eddie came into the picture. He had come to interview the avengers and surprisingly he got along well with them. You knew about venom but had agreed to keep it a secret but that was until some aliens attacked the avengers tower.

At that venom showed up, picked you up, jumped from the window and just left without giving a single flying fuck about others in the tower while Steve and Bucky stared with mouths wide open as you and venom slinged around the skyline of New York.

The first thing the super soldiers did when the battle finally ended was visit your house. You were gladly unharmed and once they were done checking you for injuries, their eyes went to Eddie lounging on the couch. “What are you?” Steve was the one to ask.

“What I am is none of your business.” Eddie said crossing his arms. Steve was about to argue before Bucky stopped him. “Thanks for saving her. Though we would’ve appreciated a little help too. But yeah.”

While the guys were bickering, your panties were getting wet thinking about all the possibilities of getting railed by all of them. At a point, you were all just staring awkwardly at each other, none knowing what to do.

��Is this how orgies begin?” You were the only one who laughed at the joke. Venom too showed himself and all their eyes darkened as they stared at you. “Is that what you want doll?” Bucky was the first to speak up.

You just shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but your panties were soaking wet. You gulped when all of them started walking towards you like stalking a prey. “All you had to do was ask, baby.” Eddie said as he stood in front of you. “We promise we’re gonna make it good for you, sweetheart.”

The next thing you knew, Steve’s plump lips were pressed against yours and hands were dragging you into your bedroom. Venom took over next and you gagged his huge tongue as he nearly deep throated you.

All the while Bucky was intent on undressing you and you knew it was him by his distinct metal arm. When Bucky finally got to kiss you, his kiss was passionate and boy, did that man knew how to kiss.

Eddie placed you on the bed Venom started licking your dripping pussy with his long tongue. The way his tongue entered your hole was the equivalent of getting fucked.

On the other hand, Steve and Bucky kissed in a moment of passion and liquid heat travelled through your veins at the sight. These two sexy men kissing each other was a sight to see. “Holy fuck!”

Lost in the sensations you failed to notice Eddie’s smirk until you were swiftly turned around on your stomach. “Eddie.” You sighed and Eddie or rather venom spanked your ass. “Venom!” You knew he didn’t like when you didn’t take his name.

He didn’t give you much time to ponder as his slimy tongue started licking your puckered hole. Bucky positioned himself in front of you and pulled you up by your hair to suck his cock. You groaned around his length when venom’s tongue entered your ass.

“I’m gonna fuck her pussy.” Steve declared as he stood back and took in the picture displayed in front of him. You looked so good laid out like this, he had to jerk his cock to relieve a little pressure.

“Venom takes her ass.” Venom said in his thick voice. “Well, sloppy seconds ain’t bad. Till then keep going doll.” Bucky sighed in fake disappointment. The way these were calling out the turns as if you didn’t exist was making you whimper in arousal.

You let go of Bucky’s cock to cough and they took that time to rearrange. “She’s ready.” Eddie sat on his haunches to let Steve slid beneath you. You straddled Steve’s chest and rubbed yourself over his hard cock before taking it in your hand and positioning it over your hole.

You both moaned when he entered you. His girthy cock stretching you in all the right places. “You feel so good around me sweetheart. Never gonna leave this sweet pussy.” Hearing the captain say filthy words was a whole another experience.

Bucky once again pulled you down and began to earnestly fuck your throat this time. Your chin was already slobbery with your spit and your cheeks were stained with tears and yet you relished the way his cock hit your throat.

You took Eddie’s cock in hand and started jerking him as Venom’s tentacles entered your tight channel. What began as a thin tentacle soon gained girth. Venom and Steve were honestly rearranging your guts.

Other tentacles had wrapped themselves around your legs and arms to keep you in place. Steve thrusted up into your pussy like an animal as venom enjoyed his time stretching you out.

Eddie had wrapped his hand over yours and was grunting as he jerked himself off. Bucky’s mouth was the only one running, while the others just grunted and moaned.

‘You’re taking us so well. Look at you doll, all laid out for us to just take.’ ‘Just like that, you suck my so well.’ ‘You were made for this, to be our cocksleeve. That’s all you are, aren’t you?’

Finally, with the way their cocks were hammering in you, you came the hardest you ever had. Your legs shook and eyes rolled back and you felt as if you were floating on clouds.

You felt a different kind of pressure in your abdomen when you came and you didn’t realise what it was. Not until you came back on earth and heard all of them hollering around. “Yeah baby, fuck. You squirt so well.” Eddie said as he came all your hands and venom’s tentacles that had wrapped over his dick.

“Yummy!” You heard venom cheer and there was no doubt he was gonna lick it up later. “Fuck fuck fuck. You squirted around my cock like the good little girl you are. Can feel you milking me. So good sweetheart. Feels like heaven.” Steve was murmuring in your ear as he released his warm load into your quivering pussy.

“You’re our walking dream doll. Now I gotta make you squirt on my cock too!” Bucky pulled you back and came all over your face until it was dripping down. Steve leaned up and started licking your face.

You felt empty all of a sudden when they pulled out their cocks. You slacked down into the now wet bed as you heard them moving around and thought they were gonna join you too.

But then Bucky pulled you in his lap and looked up at him with owlish eyes when you felt Eddie settle behind you. “What? We promised you doll, now we gotta fulfil that promise.”