#but i just got to exist and be in nature and get lost on the way home and take an impromptu 30 minute drive to cookout

[imgoddamnpluckyremember]

observations/theories i've made while working on an agatha all along fanfic that is basically the show but...more

[*flipping through notes*]

in episode 5 when they're playing with the Ouija board and Evanora starts berserking, Rio says "I hate ghosts." [*stares directly into the camera*]

i have a theory that rio must give off some sorta...vibe? sensation? to whomever she's standing in proximity to. i suspect it's a sudden coldness, which explains why agatha always seems to know she's around.

i don't think agatha lies. ever. she's not very forthcoming, but just because she doesn't show her full hand doesn't make her a liar. she keeps her cards close to her chest.

they never explore this, but i think the only reason why agatha ever got her hands on the darkhold was to resurrect nicky, or failing that, a spell to defeat death. i think they've been enemies for a while and agatha has used murder as a ruse to distract rio from her ultimate plan which was to get the darkhold. attempting to end rio's existence would be a damn good motive for her to be so angry. and also sometimes you just can't get over your ex, even when you're bad for each other.

nicky was a disruption in the natural order of things. he was "planted" by rio, this pissed a few people off, and she was just gonna take him back until agatha begged her for time. so she agreed. but not without huge personal sacrifice.

listen, i know agatha had billy and tommy in a chokehold at one point in wandavision, but i think that was all darkhold. i don't think agatha would've even made ralph hurt sparky if she knew the kids would be devastated.

another bit from wandavision: billy and tommy are at her house on the couch and billy is petting the rabbit when agatha asks "penny for your thoughts?" billy says he likes it there at her house because it's quiet. because she's quiet. which begs the question: if she liked the kid and he felt content with her, why couldn't billy hear her thoughts?

my other theory is that before wanda's spell was broken, agatha cast the boys out to keep them safe. she is why billy got to inhabit another body. she knows a thing or two about hurting and losing your children. she would've known it would eat wanda alive to think she hurt them or lost them forever.

agatha and loki found each other on the titanic, got absolutely trashed, and spent the rest of the night trying to one-up each other to see who could be the most chaotic, just to liven things up. agatha won.

[claws-and-all]

Bodyguard Tamlin!

I don't normally have Modern AU's for Tamlin but this post got me thinking. With Tamlin's military upbringing and his core being a protector I was like hmmm a bodyguard could work!

So, here's a little play on Ana Huang's Twisted Games:

Tamlin hails from a distinguished line of aristocrats yet he often feels like the black sheep of his family. Unlike his father and brothers, he does not take to politics and scheming. However, he finds solace in the fact that his family has upheld the long-standing tradition of enlisting in the military.

During his service, he discovers that he is not only skilled in combat but also has a deep drive to protect others. Once his term is completed he chooses to put this newfound passion into private security. This decision did not sit well with his father. Tamlin was accused of being a disgrace to the family name. The taunts of his brothers, the disappointment of his father, and his reticent mother caused a massive rift between himself and his family.

Years later, cut off from his family's love and wealth, Tamlin established himself as an elite bodyguard. His latest assignment is protecting a royal. A princess to a small nation. She was someone he had known in passing. She had an air of entitlement. This was precisely the type of client he refused to work with. However, when work was scarce, you took what you got.

Tamlin took his job very seriously. The princess did not. She defied him at every turn. Determined to have freedom in her highly monitored life.

Needless to say, they hated each other.

Despite their mutual dislike, the job continued on for months. The ice between them melted as they began noticing unexpected things about each other.

The princess found that her brooding bodyguard had a softer side. She would catch glimpses of it when he would get lost in the musicals he reluctantly attended with her. She found him writing in journals when he wasn't on active duty. Sneaking a peek over his shoulder, she found bits of poems and musical compositions. There was also a darker side to him that she was yet to crack. Bits of hurt and trauma that seeped through his hard façade. She had the urge to learn everything about him.

Tamlin found himself empathizing with the girl. Underneath her carefree exterior was a heart he was not expecting. Genuine care for others and a passion for fighting for their rights. This extended to animals as well. He found her volunteering at their local animal shelter. One, he was a regular at. He spent most of his days off rehabilitating and caring for these animals. All these actions of hers had him feeling like she was much more than just a job.

You can fill in the rest... :)

A little quote from the book that so perfectly describes what I'd like for Tamlin

I met a woman who cracked my ironclad defenses like no one had before. Someone who loved the rain and animals and Rocky Road ice cream on quiet nights. Someone who saw all my scars and ugliness and still found me worthy, and somehow, someway, she’d filled the cracks in a soul I never thought would be whole again

Notes on Tamlin: - Broody (of course), is righteous however he will do anything it takes to protect his client. - Comes off as a quiet, private person. He exists to protect, not to become their friend - Can hurt others if need be but ensures that prevention of such situations is the no.1 priority. - Spends his free time chasing his passions. Whether it's mastering a new musical instrument, composing music, or writing poems/limericks. - Would become a vet if he could, settles for helping instead. - He lives in a small apartment in the city which he despises. He values peace and quiet and nature. He misses his family manor in the countryside. However, his job requires him to be more accessible - His brothers remain a thorn in his side. Popping up every few months just to kick him down. - His mother reaches out every now and then. The two of them would meet up for lunch or dinner. She does not help right the situation but she does show him love and compassion during these times so he takes what he gets - His father is virtually nonexistent. It hurts more than he'd like to admit. - A part of him is grateful to be away from the fakeness of polite society. - Makes friends along the way, Lucien, the only fellow noble he can stand. Keeps him in the loop. Rhysand, another bodyguard who taught him the ropes when he first joined.

Welcome to our Tamlin Community game: Headcanons!

Every headcanons post, we'll drop a prompt asking you for your take on the prompt and our beloved Tamlin.

Fun fact: Did you know headcanons posts count as submissions during Tamlin Week? Headcanons are a great way to participate if you don't have time to create more time consuming submission and we love, love, love hearing all the different ways Tamlin is perceived!🤩

This is a space to share your adoration and your creativity, so don't be shy -- reblog or chat with fellow Tamlin enjoyers in the notes!

What are your MODERN AU Tamlin headcanons?

[snekdood]

i need more friends that i can give the responsibility of perennial native plants and perhaps shrubs and trees to

[coridallasmultipass]

Going through my old blog posts again, and fUCK!!!!

Another fucking BroCal post that Tumblr bans have taken from me, it's just a broken link now. If anyone knows where to find the original post somewhere else, or has the images saved, please, PLEASE, LMK. God, I regret not saving everything before 2019. Tumblr has taken so much. Ugh. I just wanna live in the nostalgia!! Why did they have to remove all these old posts...

[indefiniteavatar]

So basically, in a case about him shoving money at someone so they shut up about him. . .he can’t shut the fuck up himself. I would say something clever and funny here, except the sad part is that this is just so normal in current politics that it’s just. . .not hilariously absurd behavior anymore? Not to say that it’s not absurd - it is beyond such, but it is just. . . predictable, I suppose.

I guess this is how I feel about politics lately? Either I get mad at everything or I try to laugh at everything and normally that works because politicians usually aren’t so tragically stupid so very often, but now I just kinda have to chuckle at the particularly eyeroll worthy things like this, and try to ignore everything else or my brain will explode.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in the quiet section

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, established relationship, college!au, smut, p in v sex, semi public sex, caught, unprotected sex

“i didn't even know this part of the library existed.” rafe looks around at the tall bookshelves holding various very large textbooks.

“it's all the polisci books, hence why no one is over here.” you say as you move deeper into the section, to the isolated grouping of tables. you knew you already got lucky convincing your boyfriend to study, you don't want to push your luck by having him get annoyed with other students watching him.

rafe sets his computer bag down and pulls out his laptop, putting his back to the windows so he can keep an eye down the aisles of books, just in case anyone comes wandering by.

“okay.” you sit down next to him, pulling your chair closer. “i know your physics class is hard, but i also suck at physics so i don't know how much help studying im gonna be.”

“just having you here…” rafe trails off. you feel a flush come to your cheeks, rafe always managing to give you butterflies even though you've been together on and off since high school.

“okay.” you clear your throat, knowing you don't really need to be quiet with no one around. only the top floor of the library ever manages to stay silent, all the serious studiers know to immediately take the elevator up. “let's get started on the study guide i got from tiffy.”

your friend had a friend who had a friend who took the same physics class rafe is taking, and of course you convinced them to give you some study materials. it's not like you had to work hard, with rafes reputation on campus being what it is.

rafe nods and turns his attention to the crisp stapled together papers. you work with him through the questions, learning yourself as well for when you have to eventually take the class, wishing you chose a degree that didn't require so much natural science.

your focus shifts between sneaking looks at rafe and helping him, his brow furrowed and jaw hard set as he studies, making him look even more handsome than you thought possible.

“baby-” rafe groans, resorting to a pet name to get your full attention as you blink harshly. “you're distracting me.”

“you're the one being distracting.” you argue back, placing your elbow on the table and resting your chin in your hand, admiring your boyfriend unabashedly now that you've been caught.

“you're the one sitting there with that look on your face.”

“what look?” you hum out, lost in the thought of ripping rafes pants down and-

“that look.” rafe groans. “that fuck me look.”

“well i do want you to fuck me.” you smirk. “i always do.”

“shit.” rafe leans back in his chair, and your eyes naturally move down his defined body, his loose shirt falling into his muscles, his jeans already starting to tent at the crotch.

you move your chair even closer, pressing your lips against rafes jaw. “i want you.”

you place a hand on his thigh, leaving it still for mere seconds before moving up, rubbing over his hardness, feeling ever inch of his length as it grows.

you know he needs relief from pressing against the zipper, undoing the button and pushing the two sides of his jeans further open so you can reach in, gripping his cock over the fabric.

“you're so naughty.” rafe tsks. 

“you're just too hot to resist.” you kiss rafes jaw again, knowing you can't be too obvious above the table, just in case.

your hand moves under the waistband of his boxers, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as your palm presses against his cock, watching with fascination as rafes eyes flutter closed.

“god you can't even go 24 hours without needing me.” rafe smirks, his voice dripping with cockiness.

truth is, it's been less than 12 hours since you spread your legs for rafe last night, moaning and holding back screams as he pumped into you in your shared dorm room, having paid off the university to get you on the married couples floor despite not having a ring on your finger.

you ignore the urge to pull rafes cock out and drop your mouth around him and slurp and suck for anyone to hear.

you stand up suddenly, making rafes body physically jerk as he loses the sensation of your touch.

you move around the table, humming softly to yourself as you make your way down the aisle directly in front of rafe, bending down, feigning looking for a book on the bottom shelf.

you know damn well your short skirt is putting your underwear on display for rafe as you grab a book with one hand while pulling your underwear down with the other, revealing your already wet pussy.

you let your panties fall to the ground as you stand up, book in hand. you snatch them off the ground and make your way back to rafe, whose mouth might as well be watering with the intense look of hunger and need on his face.

you drop the book onto the table, letting it clatter as you stuff your underwear into rafes jean pocket.

“cock out.” you hum.

rafe listens quickly, not usually one to follow yours or anyone else's orders, but he certainly won't push back against this one as he shoves his underwear down to underneath his balls, his cock standing at attention and ready for you.

you step between him and the table, rafes hands coming to grab your hips and stop you from sitting down too quickly. he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your cheeks over your skirt, hard enough to leave a bite mark and have you swallowing a moan.

rafe tugs you down, retaking control of the situation as he pushes you onto his cock in one smooth motion, and this time you can't help the sound that escapes your mouth, a whine of pleasure and pain as your walls are instantly stretched.

“you think you'd be used to me by now.” rafe chuckles in your ear, pushing you forward to rest your elbows against the table.

to anyone walking by, it would look like you were studying while sat on your boyfriends lap, and with your boyfriend being rafe, most people would scurry quickly away, not paying enough attention to realize your hips are moving up and down and rafe is gripping one of your thighs tightly while his other arm is wrapped around your waist.

“shit.” rafe moans quietly. “you're so warm.”

the air whooshing over your behind every time your skirt flounces as you move up and down adds to the shiver that runs down your spine.

“this is why-” you gasp as you sit up a little straighter to make it easier to bounce on his cock, feeling your pussy swallow him in with every movement inwards before gripping like your body doesn't want to be apart when you try to move. “this is why we never get any studying done.”

“because you're a whore for my cock?” rafe chuckles, his voice quiet as footsteps are heard, but they continue up the stairs to a different floor.

“because you always look too fucking good to not let you fuck me.”

rafes hips begin to snap upwards with the compliment. he's never had a problem getting girls, and experimented with other women during your breaks, but nobody moves him the way you do, you're the only one he can stand being with for any time longer than a night, the only one whose opinion he really cares about.

you're no longer being so subtle as your fingers dig into the wood grain of the table as rafes hands grip your hips, helping you move up and down in time to his hips raising up off the chair.

“you're gonna walk out of here filled with my cum.” rafe says, and you can practically hear the smirk on his face, knowing how much he loves marking his territory and leaving his claim on you.

“and you're gonna walk out of here with my wetness covering your cock.” you also smile, just as territorial as rafe is. you knew he was the one for you when no other cock could satisfy you, always wishing it was rafe until you got back together, your very last time apart.

“damn right.” rafe hums, hands fisting and gathering bunches of your skirt up so he can watch your ass as it moves, jiggling every time you sit fully down on his length.

“fuck.” you groan, body drooping forward as the elevator dings. you can hear the doors open as someone gets off on your floor.

you sit up straighter as rafe leans in, letting your skirt fall back around you, hiding the fact that he's inside of you at this very moment.

you listen closely as whoever it is walks down an aisle before getting a book off the shelf. you hope they'll walk away, but instead they continue towards your table until you see a college kid with headphones on you've never seen before.

you hope he'll see the two of you and flee, but he doesn't seem to notice as he sets his bag down on a chair before pulling out the one next to it.

“rafe…” you whisper as you feel his hips start to rock back and forth. “ssss… stop.”

you're not really concerned about a student seeing you, but you really don't want anyone to report you to the library.

“hey, kid.” rafe calls out, making the student jolt in surprise and look up, eyes widening as he realizes who he's looking at, but hopefully not what.

“fuck out of here.” rafe says, and the kid runs away and down the stairs faster than you thought possible.

“such a dick.” you chuckle, immediately beginning to move.

“says the one bouncing on my dick right now.” rafe chuckles. “you wanted him gone too.”

you place your hands on the table, ignoring rafes teasing as he starts to push up into you, putting all the strength you have left in your tired legs into your movements.

rafe reaches around your front and presses two fingertips against your clit, rubbing harshly knowing he can't last much longer and needs to get you there too, wanting to cum together.

“f-fuck.” you whine out, voice turning high pitched. “please. close.” you manage to say.

rafes cock swells inside of you and you can tell that he's not far either as he delivers a few finishing thrusts into your wet pussy before he bursts with a moan of your name, cum pumping into you as his fingers continue at the same pace.

you smack your ass down against his lap as you cum, his cock pushing so far inside of you that you swear he's in your womb.

his fingers play with your pulsing clit as you ride out your highs together until you suddenly become sensitive, having to shove his hand away to keep from crying out.

you are both breathing heavily, you slumped forward against the tabletop while rafe is slack against the back of the chair.

“shit.” rafe chuckles. “i completely forgot everything we just studied.”

you clench your pussy to keep from leaking as you pull off his cock, moving quickly to the seat next to you as your thighs almost immediately give out.

“well.” you lean back, both looking exhausted. “i'm gonna need a while before i can walk, so get back to it.”

rafe redoes his pants and leans forward to look back at the study guide, resigning to his fate as your eyes droop closed.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Soulmate | Max Verstappen Ver.

WC: 4.1K

Max x journalist!reader

Summery: you live in a world where soulmates exist, and until you find yourself, you only see in black and white.

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Lewis Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver.

In a world where everyone is born seeing black and white, the promise of seeing colour is on everyone's mind. The key to unlocking the colours is your soulmate. Meeting their eyes will make you be able to see all the hues and shades of the world. Those who see colours describe it so beautifully. People usually discover their soulmates between the age of 18 and 25, some earlier and some later. However, some people start to lose hope when year after year passes and no colour is introduced into their lives.

You have lived your life hoping and believing that one day, a single glance will change your world. But as you've hit your adult years and not a single colour, you've lost hope, all your friends and family see colour already, even your 13 year old cousin. So you just came to terms with seeing life in monochrome. You just focused on your career, building it up and making something of yourself.

You've worked in a few sports before, football, tennis before you moved to motorsport, starting with NASCAR then Formula 2 and here you are now after two months in Formula 2 you've been promoted to Formula 1. The world of formula 1 is very fast-paced, and you find yourself deep in it, watching old races and interviews and races. The sport intrigued you, the races, the adrenaline, the drama.

Due to your easy going nature, and how you can get people comfortable, you've been made to interview the drivers for a new segment for F1TV, a room was giving to you on track and each week you sit down for a long interview with two drivers.

“I just don't understand. Why won't you try it?” You heard your mum's voice through your phone's speaker. Rolling your eyes at her words as you got ready for the day. “Don't roll your eyes at me.”

You sigh and wonder how she always knows when you do that. “Mum, I told you, I don't want to.”

“I just don't get why, I've heard of so many stories of people being happy after they try it.”

“Mum, please, I'm busy with work, I don't have time for any of this.” You exasperated.

“That excuse died a long time ago.” Your mum fought back.

“Mum, I love you, but you just don't get it, so please just leave me be.” 

“I only say this because I care about-”

“You don't understand, and you never well, okay, you found dad when you were 19, you've found him and you never had to go on dates for people who lost or gave up, and yes I kind of lost hope, I'm not getting my hopes up anymore, but it kills me, why do I not have a soulmate, everyone I know already found theirs and I hear about it all the time, I'm lonely, I'm extremely lonely, even when I'm out with friends when we have family gatherings I'm lonely, and I heat about colours and shades and all I see is grey, so don't try to enterfer anymore please, just let me be.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“I'm sorry, love.” Was all she could say in the end. “I didn't realise.”

“I know you didn't.” Your voice sounded defeated. “I have a to go, I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, honey, talk to you later.”

Your conversation with your mother left you feeling down and unmotivated.

This weekend, you'd be interviewing Alex Albon and Max Verstappen. Alex came first, and you sat down in front of the cameras for the lengthy interview. The set was cozy, and Alex was a blast to interview. You talked about racing to his pets, to golf, to his dreams, and so on. Alex is funny and easy to talk to you, so the interview went smoothly, and he didn't stop talking, and it all just flowed easy between the two of you. Even with your bad mood, you still enjoyed your time, and your mood got better.

After Alex left with a quick hug, you were told that Verstappen would be coming a bit later than anticipated, so you'd have 45 minutes between the interviews. That time, you and the crew took a break and ate some food before you had to be ready once more for the reigning world champion. And right before he came in, one of the crew rushed in and went straight to you and the producer.

"Max is apparently in a very bad mood. The media panel today was a disaster." He told the two of you, your eyes met the producers in worry. You've seen interviews of angry Max, and you weren't looking forward to interviewing him, not after the morning you had.

"I thought we only had drivers without the panel for the week?" You asked, confused.

"I did, too. There must've been a mix-up either with us or his schedule." The producer told you. "What was he asked?"

"Uh, they asked about him not finding his soulmate, and if it's maybe a sign that he's meant to be alone." You and the producer gasped at the rude question, of course his mood was soured, you don't ask or speak about people who haven't found their soulmates like that, you knew the pain of not finding your other half very well, and it's always painful to constantly asked about if you found them. "They even asked if he thinks his mood will get better once he does and if he'll calm down."

"Wow, that's just, that's so rude." The producer said and looked at you. Everyone knows you haven't found yours as well. The producer gave you a smile and patted your shoulder. "Don't worry and just stay calm. Our questions aren't intrusive or uncatting. We don't have anything about his love life.”

“You're right.” You nod to yourself in encouragement.

Max walks in with his entourage, his press officer walks over to you and the producer, she tells you to just jump into the interview seeing as he ran late to come here and he has other things he needs to do after.

You glance at the driver as he gets mic-ed up. Max's presence was imposing, his haw was set, and his eyes were hard. You could feel his mood even from a distance. The producer hurried you along.

You sat on the comfortable sofa, you try out the sofas each week to make sure it's comfortable for the drivers, as the sport light was on you. You introduced yourself with a fake smile, glancing at Max for a second before looking at your notes.

"Good afternoon, Max." You started calming your racing heart by saying to yourself that this is just an interview. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. How are you feeling about this weekend's race?"

"It's going to be a challenging race, but I'm confident." Max's expression remained guarded, but he responded as calmly as he could. "The team has done a great job, as we're well-prepared."

"That's always good to hear." You replied, keeping your tone light. Maybe this won't be too bad. "This track has a lot of history. Do you have any special memories or moments here that stand out to you?"

"Definitely, this was one of the first tracks I raced in in Formula 1." Max's gaze softened, and yet again, your eyes just looked all over his face not meeting his eyes, even in monochrome you couldn't deny how good looking he is, you wondered what colour his hair is, it looks soft.

"It's a very demanding track, but once you get it right, it's very rewarding."

"That's wonderful." You nodded, feeling the tension ease just a bit. "Now, moving away from racing for a moment, how do you usually unwind during the season? Especially with such a long season, do you have any hobbies or activities that help you relax?"

As you asked the question, you looked up, meeting Max's eyes for the first time. In that split second, and as you blinked, everything changed. The world around you, previously in grayscale blur, just erupted into vibrant, breathtaking colour. Starting from Max's eyes, their shades the first thing you've seen, and moving to the color of his clothes, the sofa and everything around you, everything has come to life in a way you've never experienced before. Max's eyes warm and held an expression mirroring your own.

Max blinked, and in an instant, his stern an slightly annoyed façade/mood broke, a genuine smile that he never had before broke across his face.

"I-uh." He cleared his throat to try and regain some of his composure after the revelation he just had, both your eyes meeting and not straying from each other. "I enjoy spending time with my family and friends." He said, his voice softer, almost as if he was speaking to you alone. "I also spend a lot of time sim racing and gaming with my friends, a bit of FIFA here and there."

Like Max, you could hardly believe what had happened, fighting to maintain your composure, you continue a smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds like a lot of fun. Do you ever play FIFA with other drivers? I imagine it would get pretty competitive."

"Yes, we do, sometimes." Max chuckled, the tension between the two of you completely dissolved to the amazement of everyone behind the cameras. "It's always a good time, and it definitely gets competitive. We take it seriously, even though it's just for fun."

The crew keeps exchanging confused glances unaware of the profound shift that had occurred. You force yourself to focus on the next question, the vibrant colours making everything around you feel surreal.

“Speaking of competition, if you weren’t a Formula 1 driver, what other career path do you think you might have taken?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Max leaned back, considering the question. “I’ve always been passionate about sports, so maybe something related to that, like engineering or coaching. I enjoy working closely with a team and seeing how everything comes together.”

“That’s really interesting.” You said, nodding. “It shows how much you value teamwork and the technical aspects of the sport.”

“What about you?” Max asks, and you look at him confused. “If you weren't a journalist, what would you want to be?”

“Oh, since I choose sports and have been surrounded by it for years, I think I'd be a sportswoman.” You tell him with a smile. “You're lucky, I'm too old to get into karting.”

“Guess, if you were into karting, we would've met years ago.” You knew what he meant. You could've met your soulmate years ago if you'd been in karting. 

“I guess so.” You try not to think about the what ifs as you ask the last question. “One last question that we ask to every driver, what advice would you give to young aspiring drivers who look up to you?”

Max’s eyes met yours again, a spark of connection undeniable between you. “I’d tell them to stay focused and never give up. It’s a tough journey, but if you’re passionate and willing to work hard, you can achieve your dreams. It’s important to stay dedicated, even when things get tough.”

“Great advice, Max. Thank you so much for your time. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.” You concluded, barely able to contain the smile spreading across your face.

Max smiled back, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. “Thank you. It’s been great speaking with you, too.”

The interview wrapped up, but as the revelation between the two lf you lingered you didn't want to leave, after so many years of guessing who your soulmate be and almost giving up entirely you didn't want to be apart from even for a second.

Max may seem tough to people, strong and determined, but he's spent nights dreaming of when he'd finally meet you. His thoughts lately have been of self doubt, maybe everyone is right, and the reason he hadn't met you yet is that he doesn't deserve you. He's too hot-headed, too aggressive. But here you are, proving him and everyone who doubted him wrong.

The crew, oblivious to the transformation, began packing up the equipment, their chatter and movements a blur in your colourful new world.

Max turned to you, his demeanour noticeably lighter, a subtle smile still playing on his lips. 

“I don’t have my phone with me.” Max managed to find his voice, his voice softer now, almost tentative. “Could I borrow yours for a moment?”

“Of course.” You replied, your voice trembling slightly as you handed him your phone.

He took it with a nod of thanks and quickly entered his number, calling his own phone to ensure that he'll be able to contact you after the day is over. When he handed your phone back, your fingers brushed, and an electric jolt shot through you, confirming the profound connection. As if the colours weren't enough, the electric feeling that went through you is a confirmation. Max left the room with a lingering look at you.

The crew, sensing something unusual but unable to pinpoint it, exchanged puzzled glances. One of your colleagues approached, and his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What just happened?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Did you two know each other before?”

You struggled to keep your emotions in check, a smile fighting to break free. “No, we just...connected.” You said, unable to find the right words to describe the whirlwind of emotions and the explosion of colour that had transformed your world.

Max left the room and started to look around, as if he's seeing everything for the first time and in a sense he was. He took in the colours that have been described to him many times before, he looked to the sky and saw the blue everyone described, he saw a few trees and saw the green leaves and the brown trunk. Everything looked so different now.

The rest of the day you both got questions and buzzed looks from those working with you, both your moods are good and it's not wavering, it's not changing. The realisation of what had happened, of finding your soulmate in such an unexpected place, left you reeling.

Later, as the paddock began to empty and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the vibrant landscape, as you stood and watched your first colourful sunset, you received a message from Max.

Meet me after you finish work. We need to talk.

Time could couldn’t go by fast enough, you kept looking at your phone waiting for Max to tell you where you'd meet  you had finished your work for the day, but work for F1 drivers take kuchen longer than yours. Every moment stretched into eternity as you waited for it to end. As you looked at the sun from the top of the FIA hospitality, you wished Max was with you enjoying your first sunset together. You dont know Max, you know if Max, but you've never met before today, but you feel like you do. It feels like everything is alright, like the world is finally tilted the right way, gravity is finally working.

come to redbull motorhome.

You made the jounry from the FIA building to redbull, right as you reached through building Max came out and gestured for you to come in, trying not to be seen by fans or cameras. He made you walk in front of him, his hand on your back as he guided you. You feel the heat, and even the electricity was evident through the layers of your clothes, you relaxed instantly to his toutch, leaning back into it. Max sighed. It felt like he could toutch you skin to skin, the feeling vibrated through him filling him up.

Max led you to his room. From the tours you've seen other teams do, Max's room looked the best. You both sat on the sofa facing each other. Your eyes were just taking the other in, Max's hair was ruffled, as if he ran his hand through it a lot. You took in his eyes, which you now know are blue, his nose the shape of his jaw, yhe frekle on his lips, you're trying to memorise him. Tattoo him into your mind.

Max took your hand in his, and you wonder if the feeling of electricity will remain forever or will it fade with time. You both close your eyes for a moment. 

“Did you have a good day?” You asked softly after you opened your eyes.

“It didn't start ikay, but there's something that made my day, my week, my life.” Max replied, his voice gentle. You couldn't fight the smile that took over your face. There was a moment of silence, each of you searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

“I can’t believe what happened earlier.” You began, your voice filled with wonder and disbelief. “I never thought... I had almost given up on finding my soulmate.”

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Me too. I’ve been so focused on racing, I started to think that maybe it wasn’t going to happen for me. But then I saw you, and everything changed.”

You leaned closer, it wasn't a conscious decision, but you were feeling the warmth of his presence. “I’ve been living in black and white for so long, I forgot what it felt like to hope. And now, it’s like... like everything has come alive.”

Max squeezed your hand, sending a familiar electric thrill through you, a reminder of the bond you had discovered. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been so caught up in my career, I stopped looking for anything else. But today, meeting you... it’s like the world has finally made sense.” You smiled, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and joy. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How we can go from feeling like we’re missing something, to finding everything in a single moment.”

“I’m so glad we found each other. It’s like a dream come true, one I never thought I’d get to experience.” Max’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the same vibrant colors that now filled your world.

You squeezed his hand, feeling the connection deepening with each passing second. “I’m happy too. I was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t meant for me, that maybe I’d never see the world in colour. But now, being here with you... it feels like everything was leading up to this.”

Max’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “I know we’ve just met, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. It’s like... like we were always meant to find each other, no matter what.”

You nodded, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. “I feel the same way. It’s like all the waiting. All the wondering was worth it because it brought me to you.”

He gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. “We have a lot to look forward to.” he said softly. “And I can’t wait to experience everything in colour, either you.” 

You leaned into his touch, your heart filled with a warmth you had never known before. “Me too, Max. I’m so grateful we found each other, even if it took a bit longer than we expected. It was worth the wait.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, the world around you fading into a blur of colour and emotion. For the first time in your life, you felt complete, the missing piece of your heart finally found.

As you sat there in his room, the noise from outside faddws away and a that mattered was that you found each other.

Later that week on Sunday, you find yourself in the media pen, Max wasn't on the podium after contact with another driver on track, Max wasn't amused, he hated losing, he was clearly not satisfied. The frustration was evident in his clenched jaw and the tense set of his shoulders as he made his way through the sea of microphones and cameras, his responses curt and tinged with irritation. The incident with another driver had cost him the win, and you could already sense the frustration simmering in the air.

Finally, it was your turn. As he approached, you could see the tension in his posture, the anger still simmering just below the surface. You offered a gentle smile, hoping to soften his mood.

“Hi, Max. Tough race today.” You began, keeping your voice calm and understanding. “Can you walk us through what happened out there?”

Max sighed, his expression strained but slightly less harsh as he met your gaze. “Yeah, it wasn’t great. We were doing well, but then there was contact with another car, and that threw everything off. It’s frustrating because we had a good chance of winning.”

You nodded, listening intently. “I can understand how disappointing that must be. Can you tell us more about the incident? What exactly happened?”

He glanced around, his irritation still evident but less intense than before. “He was going for an overtake, and I thought I had enough room, but we ended up colliding. It cost us a lot of time and positions. It’s just... frustrating.”

Your heart went out to him. You wanted to offer some comfort, to show him that you understood his frustration. Max was leaning his hands on the barrier so you subtly reached out and touched his hand, a gentle, reassuring gesture. He glanced down, surprised, and when he looked back up at you, his eyes had softened.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Max.” You said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “It must be tough to end the race this way after all the hard work you and the team put in.”

He took a deep breath, his expression relaxing a bit more. “Yeah, it’s not the result we wanted, but that’s racing. We’ll learn from this and come back stronger. Thanks for understanding.”

You offered a supportive smile, your hand still resting lightly on his. “I’m sure you will. You’ve always shown great resilience. What’s the plan moving forward from here?”

Max’s mood seemed to lighten further, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “We’ll go back, analyze what happened, and make sure we’re better prepared for the next race. It’s important to keep looking forward.”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, your voice encouraging. “One setback doesn’t define you or the team. You’ve got a lot of races ahead, and I’m sure we’ll see you back on the top soon.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear that.”

As the interview wrapped up, Max’s demeanor was noticeably calmer. The frustration from earlier had dulled, replaced by a quiet determination. He glanced at you, a hint of gratitude in his expression.

“Thanks for the interview.” He said, his voice softer once the mic was out of his face. “And for... you know, understanding.”

You smiled back, your heart lifting. “Anytime, Max. I’m sure the next race will be better.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to leave. Max will always be grateful for you. He's known you for a couple days, and you both spent all of your free time together and texting whenever you could. He felt like you understood the highs and lows of racing making him bind with you more. You understood sport and how everything can change in a second.

For now, the disappointment of the day was behind him, and the promise of future victories lay ahead. And in that brief, quiet moment, you had been able to offer a bit of comfort, a reminder that even in the toughest times, there’s always a reason to look forward.

Max accidently said he sees colour in one of the interviews a few months later, and so the hunt for his soulmate has begun. Thankfully, since you work in F1, you weren't suspected, and so you were able to keep your privacy. For a while.

During winter break, photos of you were released to the public, and the fans have gone wild. Every single interaction you've had was cut and edited. And the moment your eyes met went viral all over social media, in the F1 sphere and outside of it.

For you and Max, you're both just glad you finally found your other half. That you don't have to go through this world alone.

Vote for the next one

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[amaranthineghost]

| EVERY GODDAMN INCH OF YOUR SKIN IS MINE ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader

ꕥ summary: he can't stand her, but he can't keep his eyes off her

ꕥ authors note: I tried to make their thoughts parallel? if that makes sense. whenever it's focused on lando, it says his feelings or thoughts, and then to the reader, it's repeated in a way. so if it's repetitive, it's purposeful. also this was so like awkward to write ?? how do people do this all the time? and I would've gotten this out sooner but black friday shifts kicked my ass sooooo. gonna focus on requests after this :3 (last half unrevised because I wanted to get this out so I might edit some errors)

ꕥ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol, etc.

HE COULDN'T STAND HER. from her mere existence to the tiniest detail of her. from the way she carried herself to the freckled skin of her body. the way she wore her hair, the dip in her skin just above her thighs. the curvature of her spine. her god-awful voice that came out of her pink, pouty lips. her half-lidded, tired eyes that had the color of pools of honey when they basked in the light.

he fucking hated it.

the way her hips swayed more than usual and her hands delicately grasped the handrail as she sauntered down the steps to the party. she wasn't apart of it before and she wouldn't be now. he would make sure of it. eventually.

his eyes burned into her even, pale skin. he fucking hated how she acted so oblivious. the way her body wore the blue, striped brandy melville shorts. how they rode up her figure and clung to her in seemingly all the right places. the tiny piece of cloth, that he would barely consider a shirt, exposing the valley of her back when it was naturally arched just slightly.

the way her dark eyes scanned the crowd, occasionally catching a streak of light. the way her lips barely parted. her lashes fluttering as she blinked painfully slow as he watched her. he could've swore she was in slow motion.

she looked out of place. he couldn't stand it. he couldn't stand the eyes on her, glancing over their shoulders. but he was one of those pairs of eyes.

and so were his friends who surrounded him, but he paid no attention to them. his eyes were on her. they had been ever since he caught that first glimpse of her.

he always swore he couldn't stand her, he repeated it more times than his friends could count. he swore he hated her, but his friends saw the way he looked at her.

he always cursed them, muttering that he looked at her with disgust, contempt, hatred. and sure, they saw that.

but there was always something hidden in the glint of his eyes that they couldn't even identify. though they'd never mention it to him.

they'd never question when he would tune out the world to keep his eyes on her. the first time it happened, they'd teased him relentlessly, but got brushed off by him. they wouldn't tease him anymore. not in his presence anyways. more behind closed doors and in light-hearted manner about his silly infatuation.

and not only did they know there was always something more, but they knew how to push the right buttons to prove it. and the way to do it was simply by conversing with the girl, or speaking about her in his vicinity.

he'd always bark back at their remarks about her. telling them to quit, or get lost. because only he was allowed to say such things.

and when they'd raise their hands in drunken defense, laughing it off as they held a beer bottle in their hands, he scoffed at their behavior.

she wasn't his. he reminded them unfailingly, even though he acted like it.

but just because she didn't belong to him, it didn't mean anyone else could have her. he made sure of it. he always did.

she laughed breathlessly, a red flush to her face as she kept the corners of her lips upturned. she was rather engaged in the conversation before her with the tall gentleman she knew as george russell. though she knew he had a girlfriend, so the interaction was nothing more than catching up with one another.

they'd known each other for years, being introduced to the other by their mutual relationship, carmen.

even though she reiterated numerous times that the brit was nothing, but a brother to her, she knew a certain someone would always make a deal out of it.

the interaction between the two lasted no more than a few minutes when george had tapped his finger on her shoulder and lazily pointed behind her, "you've got a secret admirer," he'd joke, shaking his head with a smile before taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage. his curled hair lightly bounced as he did so.

she twisted her upper body. her eyes flickered between faces and bodies to find him, searching relentlessly.

there he was.

with his drink in his hand, his eyes bore into hers so uncomfortablely, she felt chills down her spine. he swore he could see the goosebumps rising on her skin from where he sat, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel his pants get tighter.

she despised him.

she hated how he'd always find her in a room and never lose her. he'd scare off any guy that even came within ten feet of her, but wouldn't even come as close himself.

she hated the way his eyes were so green, like fresh cut grass, or like the leaves of evergreen trees in winter. the way the light hit them and how his pupils turned to pins, revealing the gold ring of his eye.

she hated his damn skin. the perfect evenness of his tanned flesh. the way his veins were so perfect, like he had lightning from the sky in his very hands. and how they branched up his arms, stopping just as they got to his bicep.

though as much as she loathed when he would intimidate potential hotties who tried to win her over, part of her would be thankful for all the times his eyes were on her. especially with unwanted presences. she had that to thank him for.

a blurred hand waved in front of her face, breaking the contact between her and norris. she breathed a sigh of relief when she once again looked at george.

"and you're telling me you guys hate each other?" he scoffed and shook his head, "bullshit."

he muttered the last thing under his breath, striding away, which prompted her to look back at the green-eyed brit. biting her bottom lip, her eyes travelled down his arms and lightning struck veins. she noticed the dark, silver rings on his fingers and she would be lying if she said her stomach didn't have butterflies.

his jaw clenched as she practically eye-fucked him, god she made it difficult. rolling his tongue over the inside of his cheek, he raised his glass to his mouth. a smirk pulled on the corner of his lips at the thought of her getting turned on merely by his arms alone.

his hand tightened around the object, so harshly it could've shattered. he watched a guy strut his way to his girl.

what? what was he saying, she isn't his. he rubbed his eyes, assuring himself it was the alcohol talking for him.

by the time he focused his vision upon her again, the scumbag he didn't even know had reached her.

to him, it was one thing if he knew them, it was another when he didn't and that's what made him angry. he could trust another driver to back off.

he bit his tongue painfully between his teeth, he could've drawn blood. he was debating on what to do. normally, he would stand from afar, but this wasn't a normal circumstance. he was fed up of the line of guys that pushed and scrambled to even get a chance to say a word to her.

his glass slammed down on the table, the cool alcohol splashing up and back down onto the table and some on his hand. it made the people around him flinch, and his friends raised brows. he wouldn't see, they knew where his eyes belonged. and probably his heart too.

he huffed a dramatic sigh. he pushed himself from the elevated table, the cushioned stool he sat on scraped painfully loud against the wooden floors. but he didn't care. he wanted her. he wanted her away from any guys, at least.

so when he stood up so abruptly, shoving past his friends who threw whistles his direction as he charged to her. he ignored the sounds of their cheers, tuning them out as usual as he tunnel-visioned on her. he swore he saw red.

it took all of three seconds for him to manifest behind her, he towered over her petite frame. but instead of his gaze being on the back of her head, he glared at the guy before her.

the guy noticed lando before she did, but she knew when his arm spread around her back, his forearm folding across the skin of her collarbones. she felt his fingers graze the base of her neck and he played with the gold necklace she had clasped. chills falling down each vertebrae of her spine as his chest pressed against her back.

lando looked like he could kill. he would, and he might.

with a harsh shove to the shoulder, lando told the guy, "back off."

the guy raised his hands in defense, drunkenly muttering a slur of words inaudible to their ears. lando nodded his head to the side, signaling him to get out and the guy stumbled away.

watching lando's behavior and demeanor, other guys in the vicinity took the intiative to scurry away. they didn't want a fight. he did though.

she felt the flush of anger rise in her body as she watched all the guys in the general proximity to her and lando flee. potential and non-potential hotties alike. her tongue rolled across her cheek, and she sighed heavily.

she grasped at the wrist that held her to him. it was warm, contrast to the cold dangling of bracelets and few charms that decorated it. the frigid feeling of his jewelry sent shivers through her arm and down her body, residing in her stomach, more than she would care to admit.

she peeled his arm off her. the warmth that was spread across her chest left when his tanned skin did. but her heart remained fuzzy. why?

she faced him. an obviously unpleasant expression written all over her face. but she still held his wrist in her hand.

"what the hell was that, lando?" she looked up at him through her lashes, but venom flecked through her eyes. he studied the creases in her skin while she furrowed her brows at him, he knew the look. he knew it too well. he would be lying if he said his stomach didn't do a flip.

"what was what?" he muttered in a way that made her think he had a few too many drinks. that he was acting on the alcohol, but really, he was staring at her. he wouldn't admit it though. never.

"what's wrong with you, norris?" she exclaimed to him. her hands lifted, taking his arm up with her as they slapped back down to her thighs, "im not doing this with you. you always do this."

she dropped his wrist and turned around to storm off back upstairs but his hand caught her wrist this time. he pulled her back, her shoulder colliding with the bare of his chest, due to his white shirt that had a few too many buttons undone.

"do what?" his demeanor changed when he clenched his jaw. her strong energy that came at him weakened as she watched the muscles on his cheek. she pursed her lips, her tongue gliding against her teeth.

she glanced around uncomfortablely, noticing the gather of gazes from different groups they'd collected with his shenanigans. she shifted in her stance.

he noticed this. he knew the shift of her behavior when she didn't like something. he knew her like the back of his hand. he hated it, but loved it at the same time.

he'd understood the thought of this conversation being heard by those who surrounded them, it was like there was no escape. but he would create one.

with his hand still grasping her, he dragged her through the crowd. he had shoulder-checked practically everyone he pushed through to get back to the stairs. she nearly lost him in the crowd due to the height of some of the party-goers.

but when they'd reach the stairs, she thought that the pull-along would abruptly end—she was wrong.

she knew how to walk up stairs. she thought it was stupid of him to keep leading her through her own house. he didn't even know where her room was.

except he did. so when he barged into her room, pulling her in front of him to shut and lock the door behind him, she confronted him.

"what is your problem?" she spoke so outwardly now and her voice barely echoed off the walls. she nearly flinched when he took just a few steps to reach the position in which she stood.

"you. you are my fuckin' problem." he spoke lowly, but god, she felt herself turn to putty as he kept striding towards her until her back pressed the cold wall.

she looked up at him and gulped, staying silent, which prompted him to continue speaking.

"you are my problem because you can't stop talking to every single goddamn guy in the world," his head leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching. she felt like she was getting scolded, maybe she was. maybe she kind of liked it.

but she wouldn't dare admit it.

"and parading around in these-" his finger hooked the waistband of her shorts, pulling them away from her body and then releasing it to slap back onto her skin, "-slutty little shorts doesn't fucking help."

"fuck you, norris." she spat back, their forehead touching and noses grazing. but she didn't anticipate the hand that settled on her neck. the pretty lightning of veins that became more prominent.

she felt his fingers pressured the sides of her neck, her heart rate increasing dramatically. she felt like jelly in his hands, molded into shape.

he scoffed, 'tsk'ing at her words as he shook his head with a smirk. a smirk from him was never good.

he looked into her eyes, a lustful glint revealed with the streak of light, "maybe I'll just have to fuck the attitude out of you."

he watched the way her pupils dilated, the already dark of her eye becoming black as the words left his mouth. she felt a feeling of desperacy between her thighs.

he knew he had power over her. he didn't know he had this much. and just to prove it, he slid his finger up her neck, near her jaw for a pulse. a fast one.

he chuckled lowly, it sounded evil.

he looked in her eyes as his hand slide up the length of her neck, resting just as her jaw as his thumb caressed along the line. his forehead pressed against her.

a phantom feeling of his lips grazing hers, but not closing the space. not yet. not without.

"is it okay?." he asked simply. and she nodded against him.

but it wasn't good enough. maybe for others it would be, but not him. he needed to hear it. confirmation.

"words." was all he said, but she got the memo, rolling her eyes slightly, but nonetheless.

" 's okay-"

it was all he needed. he closed the gap of their lips within milliseconds. the suddenness of the warm flesh against her lips incited a small gasp, which split her lips just enough for him to intrude her mouth with his tongue.

she didn't fight with him. she knew he would win. he always does. even if the odds were never in his favor, he'd play the right cards.

but she was desperate. desperate for the taste of his faded spearmint gum and booze from his mouth in hers. it might've been an odd combination of flavor for anyone else, but to her, it made sense. to her, it was what she's been searching for.

their lips molded together. they were made for no one else but each other, at least that's what it felt like.

lando's other hand traveled down the exposed skin of her side, feeling the rising goosebumps. she felt him smirk against her lips and with the hand tangled in his curly hair, she tugged lightly. she felt the vibrations of his groans in response to her actions.

but it didn't stop his hand that traveled down her waist, and then hips, and then her thigh. she felt the smooth of his palms and fingertips as they parted her legs slightly, coming to rest on the inner most part of her thigh.

she felt her heart thump in her chest, the rising excitement in her body and the want to be touched by him. only him. she hadn't realized how much she could have wanted this to happen until now.

how often she'd find herself on the bed, that laid barely ten feet away, under plush covers with her skin covered in sweat, baby hairs that never grew out sticking to her forehead. how often she'd find herself saying his name rather than anyone else as she had her hands between her thighs, the hand she pictured to be his. like his hand is about to be.

his hand creeping up her skin, teetering on the edge of her laced panties under her striped shorts. he dipped his fingers around the hem before pulling away, teasing the idea of giving into what she had fantasized. but he wouldn't know she got off to the thought of him.

and she wouldn't know he did too, letting her name slip past his lips one too many times while he satisfied himself with her in mind. one too many times too loud too.

their lips split from each other, their heavy breaths only heard by the two of them, and they could still hear the bass of the music that raved downstairs.

her head found his shoulder, pressing herself into the white linen button-up that unfortunately covered his torso. the hand in his hair remained, tugging at his curls every time he did something she liked. her other arm snaked around the back of his neck for support.

he smirked. he hadn't done much yet, and he wanted to keep messing with her mind.

though, lando wanted to give her some satisfaction, so he ran his finger along her clothed core, shaking his head at the strangled moan that slipped past her lips.

pressing the side of his face to hers, she felt his breath pan across her ear, " 'm going to need you to be quiet for me, love. can you do that?"

butterflies in her stomach, her head shook desperately, but once again, it wasn't enough for lando.

"words, darling," his lips met the skin below her ear, his hand slipping beyond the cloth barrier. he felt the heat that radiated from between her thighs, ghostly touching her.

"f-fuck," she groaned, clenching the hair between her fingers, "yes."

"good girl," he smirked against her skin, she felt it but she was too desperate to say anything to prolong what she needed from him.

two of his fingers ran across her cunt painfully slow, feeling how wet she was for him. it was an ego boost to have her like putty in his hand.

her thighs clenched together at the contact, a strained groan caught in her throat as she bit her lip. she knew she was desperate, but she didn't expect herself to melt like this for him.

he lifted her leg apart from the other, supporting it with his hand on the backside of her knee.

lando teased her a bit more, enjoying the struggling sounds that managed to escape her sporadically. eventually, he slipped his fingers all the way into her cunt, feeling his knuckles press her skin. with his thumb, he teased her clit, practically sending her over the edge

he felt her walls clench around him as he remained unmoving for a few seconds for her to collect herself, only to be ruined again as he thrusted his fingers slowly. she struggled to keep it to herself, her eyes were screwed shut and her lip could've bled from how hard she bit it.

but when he picked up the pace, she was gone. she couldn't keep quiet, letting out her moans into his white button tee, which somewhat muffled them.

his pace remained steady, and he could tell she was reaching her point after a while when her moans upped an octave and her clenching around him.

it felt like heaven, a feeling she could've never achieved with her own two hands, she hadn't. but he did.

he slowed his fingers as she came down, pulling out of her cunt and panties. she raised her head and looked at him as sweat coated her forehead, causing those same baby hairs to stick to her skin.

they stared each other in the eyes as he raised his hands, covered in her slick, his mouth. he stuck open his tongue, running his fingers across it and licking them before smirking at her face.

"you taste sweet, darling," he pushed strands of hair behind her ear with his other hand.

he picked her up, his hands under her thighs supporting her weight while he walked a few steps to her messy, unmade bed. he threw her gently, the springs of her bed squeaking quietly against the shift of weight.

she laid, propped on her elbows as lando pressed his knees into the bed. his hands sunk the bed below him as he practically crawled on top of her. it prompted her to lay fully on her back, her hair sprawled on the piled blanket behind her.

one of his hands came to rest at the side of her head. pushing into the bed, he pulled himself closer to her as he dipped his head into the crevice of her neck, biting lightly on her skin.

she'd let out little winces at the feeling, her hands finding the buttons of his shirt, though it seemed half were already undone. but when she spread his shirt to the side, she ran her fingers down his chest, through his light abs that twitched under her cold fingertips. she smiled softly at the happy-trail on his stomach, tracing down it and along to his v-line. he groaned against her neck.

she fetched his belt around her fingers, working the clasp desperately to get it undone. she needed him and he knew that. which is why he is letting her do the work to get to him.

when she'd finally undo it, she pulled it from the loops, tossing it aside on her carpeted floor. she focused back on his dark jeans, fumbling with getting the button undone.

he noticed this, and only because he wanted it as badly as she did, he disconnected his lips from her flesh, momentarily standing off the bed to slip from his jeans, and pulling off the unbuttoned shirt from his body. they laid on the floor to get cold.

and now, to him, she was too clothed. he needed to see her skin, her curves. he wanted her. he wouldn't lie, not at this point.

so he'd crawl back across her, his bare skin appealing to her. his hands landed on her hips as he lifted them in the air. his fingers curled around the elastic of her shorts and panties as he dragged them down leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. like time had stopped and they were the only ones moving.

he'd let the cloth get to her ankles before letting her finish the work, advancing back up her body to rid the tiny top he barely deemed appropriate for anyone other than him to see.

he pulled it over her head, her arms spread above her head as the cold air greeted her chest. he wasn't surprised she didn't have anything under the top, he didn't expect her to in her own house.

he exhaled shakily at the sight of her chest. she was perfect to him. he admired her features from above. the curves of her body that dipped in the right places, the goosebumps scattered on her skin, her hard nipples from the cold air.

he pulled her to towards him by her hips, her wet cunt colliding with the tent that had built in his tent. their groans synced as they grinded against each other, the other thing stopping them was the cloth of his boxers. her clit was sensitive against the rough cotton and she whimpered softly.

he felt the cold sensation of her slick dampen his underwear, practically throbbing to feel her, to have her. low groans escaped his lips, his fingertips digging into her bare hips, turning her skin white.

he, unadmittedly, was desperate for her. he could've torn the cloth of his boxers, but he didn't care. he had money for more but he didn't have this moment forever. he wished he did.

dripping with precum, he stroked himself a few times, looking at her, he could've gotten himself off just to the visual of her.

he moved back over her body, lining himself when she pripped herself on her elbows, "no condom?"

he shook his head, mumbling as he pushed her shoulders back down, " 's fine, I'll buy you plan b, jus' need you," he admitted it. he really did.

she wouldn't lie when she said she needed him too. she had for a while. he seemed to be the answer to most of her problems.

he'd slowly push the tip in, watching her expression closely as she winced. he dipped back to her neck, kissing the skin and leaving more small marks she knew she would curse him for in the morning. but it helped.

it'd also help when she'd dig her fingernails into the even skin of his back, now ruined by red scratches he would stare at for hours after. he would've proudly displayed them if he could.

he shushed her in her ear, slowing pushing himself further into her. he let out of a low moan against her neck. he stayed like that for ten seconds, relishing in the capsulating feeling of taking her.

when he'd move, his thrusts started slow and even, he was cautious. the skin of his hips pressed into the back of her thighs every time he'd push himself all the way in, forcing her to take all of him.

and when her small cries turned to whimpers and moans, letting out strings of curses and his name, every so often, he'd take it as a sign to start thrusting quicker.

moans got louder and the sound of their skin contacting filled the room. he'd force her to quiet down with his hand on her mouth, muffing her unfortunately so pretty moans against it. her head fell back with her chest arching against his.

"eyes on me, pretty girl," he'd manage through heavy breaths, looking into her dark and very dilated eyes. his forehead came to rest against hers and watched her face. her mouth was open, he could feel it against his hand. her skin was flushed and red, skin sweating, making her hair stick to her face. he couldn't be more turned on.

he knew she was close, he was too. like earlier, she clenched around him, her mouths loudening under his hand, increasing in pitch.

she knew he was close by the uneven pace and his thrusts, his eyes becoming half-lidded and his lips glued to her skin

with his free hand, he rubbed circles on her clit, which seemed to set her over the edge as he watched her eyes almost roll back, feeling her walls clench around him.

"fuck," he groaned as he came with her. it was hard not to when he had waiting for this for a long time. too long.

his thrusts slowed greatly as their highs rode away. he felt onto the space or the bed beside her, panting heavily as they laid side by side.

the reality that they'd just fucked set it. they were supposed to hate each other, everyone knew that. but everyone also knew the tension between the two was more than just one feeling of hatred.

he'd disprove his hatred when he'd clean her up gently, with a damp, microfiber towel he'd stolen from the bathroom. he'd pick out a new shirt for her that covered her significantly better than her previous one. he'd dress her, wash her up and put her in bed.

he'd already gotten dressed against when he'd tuck the blanket by her side, he went to walk away, but the sound of her tired voice called to him, "lando, can you stay?"

her voice was sleepy, her eyes were glazed as she laid on her side, but her back was to him. he stopped in his tracks and turned back around. his belt was in his hand, but he'd dropped it immediately. disgarding his shirt and jeans, he dragged his feet against the carpet to the other side of the bed.

when he'd slip into bed, before he could even pull the covers back atop him, she had her arms around him, her face against his chest, and her leg around his waist.

his eyes softened and the warmth of having her against him wasn't so bad. he actually loved it. he would admit that.

he went to bed with a smile on his face and his girl.

the light had shown through the window, the lacy curtains, spilling onto his face. he grimaced at the light, groaning as he sat up in the bed.

they had separated during the night, but her legs remained across his stomach, he ran his hand across her leg, caressing it.

he yawned, taking in the nice, early morning when the door to her room had opened. he'd see his friends looking curiously around the room, seemingly looking for him.

when they'd see him, they silently cheer and giggle. they were definitely going to use this against him. about how right they were.

he chucked a pillow at them, which prompting them to fler before he causes harm. the door shut quietly and he laid back down with his hands under his head.

a smile crossed his face as he felt her against him again.

[dandelionsresilience]

whether the internet becomes an intolerable surveillance state, ubiquitous subscription model, or unusably ad- or AI-ridden shithole, I think we need to remember

how to do things offline

either on your personal hard drive (just because it’s an app doesn’t mean the information is stored in your device) or on paper. I’m not saying the collapse of the internet is imminent, and I’m not suggesting we do everything completely without technology, or even stop using it until we have to. (to be clear, I also don’t think the internet will just blink out of existence, suddenly stop being a thing at all; rather I think it might continue to lose its usefulness to the point where it’s impossible to get anything done. anyway) but some people may have forgotten how we got by before the internet (I almost have!), and the younger generation might not have experienced it at all.

I figure most people probably use the internet mainly for communication with friends and family, entertainment and creation (eg. writing), and looking up how to do things, so here’s how to do those things offline:

First and most importantly, download everything important to you onto at least one hard drive and at least one flashdrive! files can get corrupted and hardware can get damaged or lost, but as long as you keep backup copies, you have much-closer-to-guaranteed access versus hoping a business doesn’t decide to paywall, purge, or otherwise revoke your access. I would recommend getting irreplaceable photos printed as well

download and/or print/write down:

anything important to you - photos/videos, journals, certificates, college transcripts

contact info - phone numbers and/or addresses of friends/family (know how to contact them if you can’t use your favourite messaging app), doctors (open hours would be good too), veterinarians if you have pets, and work

how-to’s - recipes (one, two), emergency preparedness (what do I do if… eg. I smell gas)

other things you might google: cleaning chemicals to NOT mix, what laundry tag symbols mean, people food dogs and cats can and can’t eat, plant toxicity to pets

and know offline ways to find things out - local radio station, newspaper, a nearby highway rest area might have a region map, public libraries usually have a bunch of resources

also, those of you who get periods should strongly consider not using period tracking apps! here’s how to track your period manually

free printable period tracker templates (no printer? public libraries usually charge a few cents per page, or you can recreate it by hand)

moving on to entertainment, you can still get most media for free! it’s completely legal to download your favourite movies to your own personal hard drive, you just can’t sell or distribute copies (not legal advice)

movies: wcostream.tv (right click the player) - the url changes every once in a while but usually redirects; I recently noticed that it’s hiding a lot of movies behind “premium,” so it may or may not work anymore | download youtube videos

music: how to get music without streaming it | legal free downloads

games: steamunlocked.net - doesn’t have every game and can be slow to update, but very reliable

books: free online libraries | legal free downloads

otherwise passing time:

active outdoor games

for road trips (social verbal games)

for when power’s out

for sheltering in place (not all offline, but good ideas)

board games (often found at thrift stores)

ad-free customisable games collection (mobile)

read, write, draw, or whatever your craft is, sing, dance, clean, reorganise, take a bath

go outside - excuses include napping (if safe), eating, reading, finding cool plants/animals/rocks, playing with the dog

places to go include:

zoos and museums can be surprisingly cheap

parks and nature preserves

library, mall, or game shop

and a few miscellaneous things for good measure:

time budgeting | household management

how to use a planner | I’ve had success with visually blocked-out schedules like these

please add on if you have any other offline alternatives to common uses of the internet!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Jason absolutely hating whenever you use his actual name randomly out of the blue rather then the plethora of nicknames you’ve had for each other.

Absolutely hates it more than you think.

Naturally at first he tired not to think too deeply into it but after being together for as long as you have, something he didn’t think was possible but is eternally grateful that you were still with him, and suddenly hearing -in his own opinion- his boring, bland name come out of your mouth felt wrong to Jason on so many levels to hear.

‘I’ll see you soon yeah? Besides it’ll be like I’ve never left, I promise baby.’ - Jason

‘I believe you Jason, I’ll see you when you get back home. Preferably unscathed but I know when I’m asking for too much.’ - you.

He’d stop just before his hand touched through door handle. ‘That’s not my name.’

‘Yeah it is.’ You’d laugh.

‘To everyone maybe but to you? Nobody by the name Jason should exist when baby, babe, Jaybirdie, handsome, my one and only, or my love are right there to be used like they have been throughout the entirety of our relationship.’ Jason explains and you couldn’t fight back the smile he was causing.

You’d gladly call him any name he wishes but you did recently lost a bet to Dick a while ago and your punishment was to call Jason by his name for an entire day of his choosing. Today just so happened to be that day. And as much as Jason hated it, you hated it even more, but it was rather endearing to know just how much Jason lived for your nicknames as though they were his lifeline.

‘But what if you forget your own name one day?’ You asked coyly. ‘Someone has to remind you of it.’

‘That’s what everyone else is for,’ Jason began, ‘I’m meant to forget my name with you sweetheart, i not meant to remember it when I’m with you because why would I when your calling me by such sweeter names.’ He finished and you got up from your seat to hold his face in your hands.

Oh to hell with it, Dick will understand. you thought to yourself.

‘Always the hopeless romantic aren’t you Jaybirdie?’ You asked with a smile.

‘Only with you.’ He replied, holding you tightly in his warm, protective embrace.

[puripurin]

— "What the fuck." You started at the merman who wriggled around for space. His eyes looked at you in fear as he saw you, before a blush had spread across his face.

Up until 30 seconds ago, you had lived a normal life, well, except for the obscene amount of work you were stressed out with. So you hopped on the boat your parents had gifted you some years ago and sailed into the sea. The feel of the ocean breeze hitting your face was a familiar sensation to you.

This was because your parents were fishermen and loved to eat seafood, and naturally, you had gravitated towards seafood, but with prices these days and your never-ending workload, it didn't allow you to do anything without setting you back on your tight deadlines. Until today.

You had gotten a whole week of paid vacation because a coworker was threatening to bring them to court for a long list of harassment. So they gave the people who worked the most a one week paid vacation. Though, to her, it wasn't enough, so you're getting a paid vacation week while they are still going to get sued. Whatever, its their fault either way.

Anyways, how did you reel in a merman that shouldn't even exist? Frankly, you don't know either. You had accidentally started to daydream, which turned into you not realizing something was caught, so instinctively, you were able to reel in a merman.

"H-huuuumann?" His deep moss green eyes stared at up at you with interest whilst you nearly got blinded by the shimmering gleem of his scales that were scattered across his cheeks. He stopped his advancements towards you until it was difficult to hold up his neck to see you.

"Erm... sorry for catching you, I was daydreaming. I'll unhook the fish hook attached to you..." You apologized and went down to unhook him, only for him to pull down your pants and underwear down, making you fall on the bench below you and stuffing his face in your genitals.

"Hey! W-what are you doing?" You pushed his face away, to which he pouted to. He sat there for a while as you tried to push him off the boat, to no avail.

"I... Accceppt thhis marrriaage!" He excitedly said as he tugged on your pants to gently pull it off again, but you held on tightly to your pants.

"What marriage? I didn't propose to you?" You evaded from his pulling hands in confusion.

"Whennn youuu reeeeledd mmeee inn dummmyy!" He slurred his words once more. "Shtop! I waant too tasstte you firrst beeforrre you tassteeee mee!" He huffed before his nails turned into sharp claws that shreaded your pants, then pulled down your underwear again and happily stuffing his face and licking your crotch with his tongue that felt rough.

Once more, you tried to move away but only ended up moaning at the feeling. Your face was slightly hot as you looked away but was swiftly pulled back in for a kiss, tasting your own fluids.

"Ah... finally... now it's your turn, cutie pie. We have to go to my hometown to get married <3"

"WHAT!?!? Firstly, no! Secondly, i will drown!"

"... Who said you can say no? When you reeled me, it was akin to a marriage proposal. Also, that's why you suck my dick and kiss me <333"

"WHAT--"

Was supposed to be posted yesterday, but when i saved a portion of it, i didn't see that i was save so i went back in to edit it to see what's rong before i saved it and for a slpilt second i saw the rest of it before it saved, so i lost majority of my work.

So now it looks like tjis. Womp womp. I think tjis is an afab reader? But i tried to make it gn as possible but i wannted a weird ass mermaid culture where to speak another's language, you gotta eat them out/suck them off before kissing person to speak. At first i wanted him to just kiss in order to get the language js like starfire but i was like,, so what do i do with him tryna eat you out??,, then boom yeahh.

Also, yo quero voy en me casaaaaaa *cries pathetically* No me gusta Español :((((((( not proofread. L

Edit: i forgot about tags. Mb.

[venerawrites]

Vi reuniting with her significant-other after prison? The reader could be a mercenary, or a firelight, a baker, an artist(music and paint) just to name a few occupations they could have. I am not used to requesting, so please forgive me.

author's note: I think this request is so cute, I really loved doing it! I tis a bit angsty in the beginning, but it is fluffy at the end! <3 Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you enjoy! x

Nature always finds a way.

Even when surrounded by nothing but a cold, grey concrete, it managed to give birth to life.

Hope.

As she leaned against the wall, Vi gazed upon the big tree in front of her, focusing her attention on the gentle dance of the green leaves. Of course, she has seen trees before, in Piltover and on photographs, but never in Zaun.

In a way, she was both surprised and impressed with Ekko finding this place. She always thought she knew the city like the back of her hand, yet she had never stumbled over here. How many places were like that in the Undercity? How many places remained hidden, waiting to become a symbol of a new beginning?

"Your mind seems far away", a voice sounded next to her and Vi turned to her right, only to find Caitlyn's smiling face. Despite her gentle expression, there was a spark of worry in her eyes.

Interesting girl was she. One who has grown up in a closed bubble, protected by her family's money and influence, yet there was a fire inside of her, that made her different from the stereotypical Piltover person. She had a deep sense of justice and despite seeing the worst of Zaun, instead of turning her head to the side, she wanted to dig deeper and to know more.

Vi would lie if she said she did not judge her in the beginning. She was sure Caitlyn would not survive more than an hour down here. However, the girl kept making her raise her brows in surprise, completely changing her views about the people in the Topside.

"It is", the pink-haired girl finally answered, letting out a soft sigh in the process, "Somewhere far. Somewhere better."

And with someone else.

Biting her lip, she turned her attention to the few streaks of grass poking near her feet. She grasped one, pulling it out and bringing it in front of her eyes. Twirling it a few times, she carefully examined it, noting how the end was starting to turn yellow.

There was minute during which each of the women seemed to be lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Caitlyn laid her palm on Vi's back, rubbing small circles on top of the clothed skin. She remained silent, but her gesture managed to ease the tension in the other female's muscles.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Vi shook her head, his eyes still focused on the little piece of grass in her fingers.

God, she wanted to talk. She needed to talk. But what was weighing on her mind, was something she couldn't share with anyone. Especially Caitlyn.

"No, I will be fin-"

"YOU LYING SNAKE!"

Before Vi could realise what was happening, she found herself on the floor pinned by your trembling body. The eyes, once so full of gentle love, which haunted her dreams almost every night, were now staring down at her full of rage. As your name rolled off her tongue, another set of hands got involved by grabbing you by the shoulders.

"Hey! Get off her!"

Whipping your head back, your eyes narrowed to slits once you saw the blue-haired enforcer. Your nose involuntarily scrunched, a clear sign you were far from happy of what, or more specifically who, was before you.

Ekko has already warned you Vi was back in the city and that she was accompanied by an enforcer, but you did not expect... well, her. In your mind, you had built the picture of an old, grumpy prison officer, not a young and pretty woman. Perhaps, you did not want to believe YOUR girlfriend would be giving someone like her a tour around Zaun, while completely forgetting your existence.

Your name was called again and you looked down, your expression softening once your eyes met those of Vi. Many emotions were swimming inside of them - happiness, guilt, pain, relief - all of which were making you wish for nothing more than to press her against your chest and hold her for hours. Your fingers twitched, but instead of embracing her, you landed a few harsh slaps against her shoulders.

"Stop!", Caitlyn shouted once more, grabbing your vest from the back. Instead of calming you down, however, this enraged you even more and you turned around, slapping her hands away.

The enforcer was not a woman who gave up easily, however.

"I demand you to stop!", your body froze as the command left her lips. You stayed still for a few seconds, during which only your heavy panting and the distant shouts of the children around the base could be heard.

"You demand me?", the words came out as a loud scoff and you lifted yourself from Vi, while eyeing the other girl with a mix of irritation and disbelief. With one long stride, you closed the distance between you and gabbed the front of her jacket.

"I demand you to shut your mouth and get your little ass out of here before I kick it so hard, you'll regret ever coming to the Undercity!"

Before things could escalate, you were pulled away by Vi, who held her arms tight around you, while nodding her head toward Caitlyn.

"Cait, give us-Stop it, damn it!", she groaned, tightening her hold, "Cait give us a few minutes!"

The blue-eyed enforcer stood frozen in her place, her worried gaze shifting from her friend to you and then back. You still fought back against Vi's grip, ignoring the feelings of warmth and nostalgia that you felt by being so close to her.

"Please?", the pink-haired woman said again and reluctantly, Caitlyn started walking slowly backward. Once she was far from earshot, Vi released her grip on you and took a step back, giving you some space. She opened her mouth to speak, but you were faster.

Without a word, you turned around and smacked your palm against her cheek. Her head whipped to the side and for a moment, it remained there, frozen. The usually pale skin flushed a deep red where your hand had made contact and your hand trembled, before hiding inside the warm comfort of your pants' pocket.

"I probably deserve that...", Vi mumbled, moving her jaw left and right while she rubbed the sore spot on her face. She took a shaky breath, regaining her composure, before lifting her face. With the corner of her eyes, she could see Caitlyn eyeing both of you with worry and she lifted her hand toward her, a gesture to show her she did not need to intervene. Yet.

The subtle communication did not stay hidden from you and let out an angry huff, before shaking your head. Rarely have you felt such intense emotions, especially since that night when... No. You couldn't go back down this memory lane. Not again.

"Oh, you deserve way more than that!", your tongue pushed against your cheek, biting back all of the colourful insults that were resting on the tip of it. The memories of all those lonely nights you spent crying, mourning, and wondering what happened to her, now hung between you like a dark cloud. No matter how much you have prepared to face her once again, all self-control and reason left your mind as soon as you laid your eyes on her.

"I know you're hurt, but please give me a chance to explain!", her voice was low and soft, an unusual sound for Vi, "Please, I-"

"What is there to explain? You left! You left me! You left Powder! You left Ekko...", with each name, the pain in your chest felt stronger. You closed your mouth, pressing your lips into a thin line before your gaze involuntarily moved to your right, where in the distance the enforcer was nervously chewing her thumb while keeping her attention glued to both of you.

Narrowing your eyes, you grabbed Vi's hand before starting to drag her toward the nearby wood shack. In the beginning, when you joined the Firelights it was used as a storage for hoverboards, but as the members of your group grew, it was soon abandoned and left to collect dust. It was secluded and most importantly away from prying eyes and ears.

The pink-haired girl followed without resistance, giving a last reassuring nod to the Piltover girl, who was now being led away by another Firelight. From all of the scenarios she imagined through the years about your reunion, you pouncing on her was definitely not on the list. A hug, a kiss, maybe even a chance for her to finally show you how much she actually loved you - those were the fantasies that kept swirling around her head all morning when she thought of how should she handle your first meeting after so many years.

Hearing that you were now part of the Firelights was not a surprise. Just like her, you liked to resolve your problems with your fists, rather than talk, and like many young people part of the group, there was nothing that you wished for more than free Zaun. You were stubborn, hot-headed, and reckless, and gave Vi a headache more than once in the past.

Would she have it any other way, however? Absolutely not!

Despite your tough and fiery nature, you also possessed a surprising softness and gentleness, reserved for those closest to you. She often considered herself lucky by being able to see you like this - open and vulnerable, a harsh contrast with your usual combative demeanour. The memories of your many nights spent together, sharing warm cuddles and soft kisses, while your head rested on her shoulder as you talked about your future dreams, often resurfaced in Vi's mind, reminding her how effortlessly it was for you to make her fall in love with you.

Deep inside she foolishly believed that if she ever got the chance to be released from prison, everything would be the same. Powder would still be her little sister, seeking her approval; Ekko would be their smart-ass best friend, who spent too much time tinkering with random gadgets; and you, her first love and girlfriend, would patiently wait for her arrival, ready to promise her the future which you always dreamt about when you were little.

Now, as she stood in front of your furious figure, she felt almost foolish for having such expectations. Of course you would change, you were forced to, just like everyone else in Zaun. The hardships you had to face at such a young age shaped you into someone colder and more guarded.

"I am sorry."

The words fell quietly from Vi's mouth, as she watched your face, trying to find even a glimpse of the love you once carried for her. All that stared back, however, was fury and disgust.

"You are sorry? That's all you've got to say?", you let out a dry chuckle, your voice ringing with mockery. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you eyed her up and down, finally having the chance to properly observe her appearance.

Vi has always been a beautiful woman, even if she never seemed to care much about her looks. She never bothered with fancy hairstyles or clothes, preferring practicality and comfort over style. Yet, she possessed a natural attractiveness, one that made you turn your head the first time you saw her.

Your eyes focused on her buzzcut, before sliding down her face and noting the numerous new piercings and a tattoo, that were now covering it. Her eyes, still as piercing as you remembered them, held the same fiery spark as before, despite being clouded by guilt. She was also taller and more muscular, now towering almost a full head above you.

"I didn't leave!", she finally said, her expression hardening, "That night..."

The words got stuck in her throat, as she let out an angry sigh and rubbed her calloused hands on her face. Her body slumped against the wooden wall behind her, the loud thud making you wince.

"That night I was taken against my will", she continued, her voice trembling, "By the Enforcers. I... After seeing the remains of the explosion and Powder, I just needed a minute. Some time to breathe, to realise what had happened..."

The rage that bubbled inside your chest just a minute ago slowly started to evaporate, replaced by a mix of caution and confusion. You never wanted to believe that she abandoned you - for years, you pushed this thought aside, not able to accept the idea that Vi is capable of doing something like this. Not to you or Powder.

But as the time passed, the hope you held that she was just hiding somewhere started to transform into suspicion. Seeing Powder becoming Jinx right in front of your eyes, claiming that her sister deserted her, also did not help ease your mind and soon you started to accept this version of the events more and more.

She left you. Alone.

As she continued speaking, telling you how she was thrown in Stillwater Hold, never prosecuted or charged, and beaten and tortured, your whole body tensed. Her words painted a picture of chaos and pain, something completely different from what you had imagined for her. You always thought that she was living her best life, somewhere far away from Zaun.

"Do you know how many times I thought of giving up? Of just accepting that this was the end?", her eyes lifted toward your face, the raw feelings behind them making your breath catch in your throat, "But then I thought of you. Of Powder. And I knew I had to find a way back to you."

Her words hung in the air, and there was a minute of silence, during which you assimilated what she had said. A part of you wished for your initial belief to be true - you spend such a long time resenting her for abandoning you, and to a certain extent you even made your peace with it. But now, as she spoke her truth, you were left both confused and heartbroken.

How could you deal with that?

"I thought I would never see you again", you finally said, your voice sounding way softer and gentler than it was before, "That you are living your life somewhere else... with someone else."

Vi's brows furrowed at your admission and she pushed herself away from the wall, before taking a few steps toward you.

"Did you really believe I would do that?", her accusation made you shrink in your place, "That I would just leave you and Powder by yourself? That I don't care?"

The mention of her sister sent a pang of sorrow through your heart. Everyone knew how hard it was for you to witness her transformation, especially since you fought for years to save her from Silco's influence and twisted games. It took a long time for you to accept the painful truth that she was beyond saving.

"Have you seen Powder?", you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, "Do you know what she has become?"

Her gaze fell down at her feet and she weakly moved her head up and down. Despite seeing it with her own eyes, it all still felt unreal. If she controlled her anger that night, if she never screamed at her sibling, if she didn't step back from her... Maybe everything would've been different.

"I tried, Vi", you shook your head, unable to even look at her eyes, "I tried so hard, but Silco had his claws in her mind, filling it with lies. I couldn't... I couldn't save her. I don't know if anyone can. Even you..."

The woman's face fell - this was the second time she was told there was no hope for her sister anymore. She wanted to argue, to tell you that she could reach her, save her, but deep down she knew what your response was going to be. You were always honest to a fault, wearing your heart on your sleeve, and while Vi always loved that about you, she was not ready to hear the truth. Even if she already knew it.

Closing the gap between you, she cupped your cheek, gently running her thumb across the skin. You instinctively leaned toward it, seeking the feeling of warmth and comfort that you have been missing for so many years.

"I know", she said, still caressing your face, "It's not your fault. You did everything you could."

Her words were meant to comfort, but all they did was add the final drop to the already overflowing pool of emotions bubbling inside your chest. You leaped forward, circling your arms around her taller frame and burying your face in her chest. Hot tears were now flowing from your eyes, a result of years of silent suffering. Loud sobs escaped your lips, and you felt her strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer in a protective embrace.

"I missed you!", your words were muffled by your face being pressed against her shirt, "I missed you so much, Vi! I.. I thought I would never see you again!"

Her grip tightened and she buried her nose in your hair, inhaling deeply. The sweet scent of strawberry and cream filled her senses and she smiled, finding comfort in the fact that even years later, you still used the same shampoo. After being hit with the harsh reality of what Zaun has become, she welcomed this familiarity, even if it was a small one.

"I missed you too!", she murmured in your hair, before pressing a tender kiss on top of your head, "It's all going to be alright. I promise! I am here now."

You knew you shouldn't hope - after all, in the past it brought you only hurt and despair. But as she continued whispering sweet promises next to your ear, you couldn't help but cling to them, allowing yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance for you both.

"I would never leave you again!", her voice became harsher, filled with determination, "Whatever happens, I will always be by your side!"

Closing your eyes, you nodded your head, pressing your face even further into her chest. Your breathing was now calmer and the tears had dried on your cheeks, leaving salty trails behind them. If only you could freeze time and stay in this moment forever...

Suddenly your body tensed and you pulled yourself harshly from her embrace, leaving Vi shocked and surprised by the sudden movement.

"What about the enforcer girl?", your face scrunched in disgust as the words fell out of your lips, "Who is she... to you?"

The young woman blinked a few times, taken aback by your bluntness and the sudden coldness in your voice.

"Caitlyn?", the sound of her name made you roll your eyes, "She is... a friend. She helped me get out of Stillwater."

Your brow quirked and your arms crossed in front of your chest, as if protecting you from the idea that there may be something more between them. Ekko has briefly told you what he knew about her and how she seemed to be different from the other enforcers, but even he still had certain reservations when it came to her real intentions and her relationship to Vi.

"Just a friend? Is that all she is to you?"

The pink-haired woman stared long and hard at your face, somewhat amused by your questioning. She bit her lip, trying to suppress her smirk, but she couldn't control the way the corners of her lips twitched upwards.

"Violet!", the sound of you using her full name pulled her attention to your face and she reached out to you again, resting her hands on your waist, "Violet, I am being serious!"

She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to just pull you closer and shut your mouth, stopping you from asking such silly things. Her gaze bored into yours and her fingers squeezed the soft flesh under them.

"Caitlyn has been a great friend and a partner in crime...", she explained, pulling you closer to her, "But she is not you! I am not interested in her in that way."

With narrowed eyes, you studied her face for any signs of her lying, before reluctantly nodding your head. Slowly you lifted your arms, before wrapping them around her neck and immediately starting to play with the ends of her short locks.

"C'mon, I have a girlfriend, who do you think I am?", Vi finally let out a soft laugh, leaning her face toward yours and nudging your nose with hers. A light blush covered your cheeks and the tip of your ears at the sound of the word "girlfriend". After so many years apart, you were not even sure if she still considered you as such.

"A girlfriend, huh? She must be lucky!"

She grinned, moving one of her hands behind your neck, while the other one remained gripping your waist.

"I think I am the lucky one."

She closed the distance between you, pressing her chapped lips against yours and pouring all of the pent up frustration and love she held for you. Closing your eyes, you melted in her embrace, completely intoxicated by the familiar taste of her. The hand behind your neck pushed you even closer to her, resulting in a harsh battle of teeth and tongues, during which she easily dominated you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you rested your foreheads against each other, while trying to catch your breaths. You opened your eyes, immediately meeting those of Vi. Dragging your hand from behind her neck to her cheek, you rubbed it affectionately, smiling once she nudged it with her head.

"If you disappear again, I will hunt you down", you say half-seriously, half-jokingly, "And I will kick your ass!"

A wide grin formed on her face.

"I wouldn't even dream of it."

cc artwork: Shuo Shi

[dcxdpdabbles]

Heyo! I've been loving the content! Especially new management, that was a phenomenal read. Was wondering if you had further thoughts or scenes on it or on the Single Dad Au? I think the only story I like better than these two is congratulations, it triplets!

Adore your work! Phenomenal!

Damian did not trust Daniel Fenton.

The man pretended like he wanted nothing from his Father besides his heart—not his wealth, not his influence, not his company, and not even his vast amount of skills.

Even Damian's mother—who was in love with Father for a time—could not conceal the knowledge that marrying Father would elevate her position in Grandfather's eyes. There was a time when Damian believed love—the romantic type—was not real, that it was unnecessary.

Since his arrival at Wayne Manor, he's learned to acknowledge that love does exist, but he still believes it's never unconditional. He knows that Fenton has to be after something. He attempted to find the answer, but as loath as he was to admit it, Damian had not detected any hit of what Fenton was after.

His hours of surveillance on the man only showed him that Fenton enjoyed writing for his silly little book series- a fantasy novelist how quant- but was self-published and did not attempt to get father to fund him

. Fenton also spent much time with his daughter but seemed happy to support her in anything she wanted as long as she put in the effort, so he was not after Father influenced her. Fenton had no interest in Wayne Enterprises, often looking a tad bored whenever Father spoke of it- not dismissive, just lost- which meant he wasn't after the company.

He discovered that Fenton lived modestly despite having a decent amount of funds. He was middle class and seemed rather happy to stay in the middle class.

Damian would have looked deeper into Fenton, but Father had caught on to his surveillance and had forbidden him from scaring away his lover. Knowing that he required backup, Damian had called a sibling meeting.

He was expecting better results than them just speaking about the benefits of Fenton and Father dating. They should focus on how to defend Father's heart once Fenton's true intentions become visible.

It wasn't that Fenton didn't love Father- or getting there- but he would have a darker side to him that Father was unprepared for. Damian was sure of it.

He just needed to find it.

That's why he approached the man's daughter. Indeed, she would open the opportunity to get closer to the man after his father without using his training to follow Fenton. Father could not fault his brilliant walkabout.

Damian was just not prepared for her to be more tolerable than the regular fools in Gotham. She was a fellow artist with a love of nature and travel.

She took him to different parts of Gotham, where they could find animals and wonderful buildings to draw. Dani also always shared her music—he didn't want to listen, but it allowed him to build a profile on her—and he found she also had an application for classical covers of pop music.

Dani also seemed so unbothered by anything. She moved as if she had never been weighed down by any issues. She was weightless but not lost. Seeing someone so at peace with themselves was odd, so Damian sometimes forgot why he was spending time with her.

Sometimes, he just relaxed with her and spoke to her, and really, she was far better than the fools his Father took in.

Dani one day asked if he would go with her to the mall. She wanted some new clothes, and Damian found that her style was rather artistic. This style also caused many stares from those close to their age.

He watched as she walked through the street, owning it with her presence and powerful, unchained personality. Then she acted like she didn't even care, though she definitely knew it.

That is why when she offered to help him buy an outfit, Damian agreed with far too much enthusiasm before she finished. He even wore it out of the store, feeling...like he got close to her unchained freedom. He kept glancing into the reflection of mirrors, a rish of glee at how great he felt in clothes that he would have scoffed at.

He also appreciated how people gawked at them as if they were the most fascinating thing they had ever seen. Damina enjoyed following beside Dani's stride, grinning up at her as she told jokes.

"Dude, it's crazy to think that if our Dads get married, we'll be siblings," she says one day, and Damian startles. She leans over, helping him adjust the beanie she got him, a more blurt red of her own, and Damian's eyes go very wide as she grins at him.

Damian's eyes go very wide.

He hadn't even thought of that.

He races home after she takes him to a slam poetry night, snapping her fingers with that interesting, peaceful, fully in-the-moment-without-stress personality of hers.

Damian kicks the door to Father's office and shouts, "Father, you must marry Daniel Fenton at once!"

He misses that Fenton is also there, sipping from a teacup. He'd never seen Father look that embarrassed before, either. Though Fenton seemed rather pleased, which helped his new quest of making Dani his new, much more enjoyable sister that left him in awe.

She promised to take him to her favorite store for more pastel goth outfits next week, too. Once her father marries in, they might turn it into a weekly thing.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]

THE TIMELINE

"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."

- About You By The 1975

V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988

Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance. 

Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy. 

Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless. 

Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one. 

A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death. 

But it was closure. 

The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted. 

Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room. 

The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video. 

It felt fresh. New. Clean. 

So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?

For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months. 

At first, he dreamt of death. 

Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance. 

Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red. 

He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes. 

But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before. 

It didn’t even really look like a gate. 

Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods. 

This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean. 

There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms. 

It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth. 

Pomegranates. 

Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home. 

Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them. 

A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of. 

The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there. 

But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up. 

He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too. 

He knew her. He knew her. 

Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before. 

Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you. 

Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it. 

The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap. 

There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came. 

You were always alone. 

Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work. 

Not yet, anyway. 

You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back. 

It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm. 

The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet. 

Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night. 

It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really. 

They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes. 

Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security. 

Safety - an unknown feeling. 

But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place. 

So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too. 

Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it. 

Then one night, he saw himself. 

He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked. 

This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up. 

Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm. 

Safe. 

Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be. 

Certainly not 1988. 

It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”

The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before. 

He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting. 

Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello. 

Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright. 

Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy. 

He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper. 

He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia. 

He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get. 

Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before. 

Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you. 

He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one. 

After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep. 

So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”

Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s. 

“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”

Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?

Maybe, just not in this life.

Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington. 

He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.

So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”

And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.

He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.

Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.

Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee. 

You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate. 

He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit. 

He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.

[mrsmiseryxo]

Behind Closed Doors

homelander x assistant! reader

🎧 Behind Closed Doors- Lana Del Rey

Disclaimer: This is finally done after two months, i first started this when the season came out. I don't know anything about the corporate world. I made up things as I went along :3 im sorry :( Also my first time writing fanfic and first time creative writing in a while, so I am a bit rusty be nice please :3 I wrote this as a challenge to myself , so i hope its not too bad. Constructive criticism welcome :)

around 3-4k words i lost count

this is so secretary ( 2002) coded

Tags: dom!Homelander Fem! Girly! Reader. praise kink, body worship, p in v, fingering, cmnf, homelander is soft for reader. creampie, breeding kink, daddy nickname used. homelander and reader are horny weirdos. I'm bad at tagging hopefully i'll be better :(

Set between seasons 3-4 but i didn't watch gen v oops

You transcribe the meetings for Vought, and you feel like you don’t get the recognition that you deserve. That is until Homelander calls for a private meeting. 

You were quiet and meek, like a little mouse. He viewed you exactly like that. A rodent to be exterminated. Squashed. He’ll have a word with whoever was in charge of hiring you. Even more of a word if it was Ashley. In your eyes, he could never hide the utter disdain on his face whenever he got a waft of your sweet, vanilla rose scent as you . He thought you represented everything wrong with humans. Your head was always hung low, you always stared at your shoes as you brought Ashley the notes for this week’s meeting. How dare you not look in his eyes? How can someone as stupid as you ever be trusted with confidential information about the company?

He absolutely hated everything about you. Your prissy nature, the way you only drank matcha lattes with soy milk. He turned his nose at that poor excuse of a milk option. He smelled that bullshit from a mile away. He hated the gloss on your lips. He hated the sparkle in your eyes, like you still had a lot of life to look forward to. He hated that hopeful mentality you held, following the philosophy that life was going to get better. He simultaneously hated and loved the way you cowered in his presence, the way your hands get sweaty and clutch at your skirt. He loved and hated the fact that you couldn’t hold eye contact with him. On top of all that, Homelander hated the way you made his dick twitch.

Even as you stumble around with a slight hunchback, he couldn’t keep thoughts of peeling off your tights and bending you over the table where meetings were held. How breathless and cute your pathetic moans would be. How he would make you speak up and ask for what you truly want. He wondered what your lip gloss would taste like. How soft your plush ass would feel as he caresses it. Even considering your horrible posture, something as small as your scent is enough to turn him on.

When homelander would retire to his apartment, he would drink a pint of milk and jerk off. That was his nightly routine for the last couple of years. He would think about Madelyn Stillwell, Stormfront, and if he was feeling especially normal, he would think about Queen Maeve. After a week of you working at Vought, his jerk off material had changed. He began thinking about you. A lot. You had dominated his brain, and this irritated the hell out of Homelander. He had never given this much thought to another person before. Mundane and ordinary things had popped into his brain. What did you eat for breakfast? What side of the bed do you sleep on? As much as he tried thoughts of you out of his head, they always came back with a vengeance. Just your entire existence bugged Homelander, but he got used to seeing you in the conference room, even looked forward to the weekly meetings if it meant he got to see you. He’d notice that his presence would have an embarrassing effect on you. Of course, he would have a certain effect on just about everyone that he encountered, but he relished in the fact that you would get so flustered when in the same vicinity of each other. He would then think of ways to get you worked out, he wanted to tease you just enough to coax you. He’d knew the type of girl you were, you thrived under words of praise. Homelander also knew that you’d be obedient enough to never say anything. He’d make you fear him, more than you already do. He wanted to make the desire to please stronger.

After the first month of your newfound employment at Vought, you wondered why anyone would put up with Homelander and the Seven’s antics. You pride yourself on your obedience and dedication. Why could nobody acknowledge the sea of tears shed over copious hours of overtime, and the perfection you put into shooting out emails everyday, keeping people on track. You even schedule the time the emails are to be put out. You know deep down you will never say anything, or even hint at the maltreatment and neglect that you recieve. You want to remain hopeful that this is just a rough patch, and as you get more acclimated to the company you won’t feel this way, they won’t treat you this way.

You wake up at 5:30 to face the day. 30 minute shower, a five step skin routine, and light makeup routine. You were told to always look your best when first hired. Vought has an image to maintain, and their employees should reflect that ( which only really applies to female employees).

While in the shower, you contemplate your life. You’re proud of yourself and what you have accomplished so far, but sticking to the Vought job is insane. It’s insane because you have a crush on your boss. Arguably the most famous and powerful man in America, or even the entire world. You know he's not a good person, but you wouldn’t mind being at his beck and call. God, it was pathetic how you imagine him grunting in your ear for you to take it. You try to move past these thoughts for the betterment of your life.

You are the first to arrive to the meeting room. You set up your space, placing your laptop, a notebook with strawberry pattern on it, and your matcha latte with soymilk.

As the supes settle in, you get ready to write. This week’s meeting was about searching for another member of the seven, or to speak truthfully, find a new black noir. You are clueless to how The Seven found itself without a Black Noir, but you know it is in your best interest to never ask questions. Of course, like the queen of England, Homelander is the last to arrive. Homelander strides in greeting everyone.

“ Mmm can’t wait for the bullshit we talk about today,” He rolls his eyes. You notice his tone even more irritated today. Homelander walks over to the front of the table and sits. Everyone waits for him to speak, for him to start the meeting. As you write the date on the top of your paper, you hear him clear his throat.

As you look up, he says your name. How does he even know your name? He couldn’t give less of a shit at anyone at this table, especially you.

“Can I speak to you at the end of the meeting? Alone of course. We wouldn’t want any of these morons listening in”

“ Oh. Yeah, of course!” You stutter a bit. You give him a small smile. He gives you his signature fake smile back. You know that look all too well. You recognize that that look is basically the middle finger. That highly calculated smile hides the disgust he feels for everyone around him at any given time. All the while, you are caught off guard by his words. Being alone in a room with any man would make you anxious, but being the only woman in the room with Homelander makes you nauseous. To say you are absolutely mortified would be an understatement.

Everyone in the room gives you a side eye. Ashley looks like she might pull out a gun and shoot you. She knows she’ll never hear the end of it. After all, she did hire you.

The rest of the meeting goes as smoothly as it could. Some dumb remarks were made by The Deep, but it could have been worse. You didn’t pay much attention during this meeting, as you were in your head about what this private session with Homelander would entail. Homelander senses your heartrate going up. He can practically hear the blood rushing through your veins. His hand quietly goes to grab and rub his bulge. He thinks of you on your knees, him grabbing your hair as you rub your face against his crotch with your hands on his thighs, looking up at him with adoration in your eyes. He brings his hands up and bangs the table.

“ Ok, I think we’re all done here,’’ He gives instructions to the Deep and Ashley to scout for the new Black Noir while A-Train shoots his movie. You write the details of the meeting in your notebook.

Everyone gets out of their chair and leaves, Ashley gives you a death stare. You feel faint, and your legs try to gather courage to walk toward Homelander.

“ Shut the door behind you, will you buddy” Deep closes the door, and you two are left alone at last.

Homelander slowly strides toward you with his hands behind his back. Like a deer in headlights , you were paraylzed with fear, you could not move. He softly grabs your chin. He sees the fear in your eyes.

“ Hey, you’re not in trouble. I can see the hairs on your arm standing up. It’s fine. You’re not in trouble.” He reassures you, eliminating the worst case scenario your brain. You breath a breathe of relief. You look at Homelander’s boots, still afraid to look him in the eye.

He gives a slight chuckle. “ I’m not going to laser you, ya know. Um, actually I asked you to stay because I realized something.” He places his hands on your shoulders, you finally look up. He is towering over you. You can see the absence of his pores on his face. He truly is perfect, which makes his presence even more intoxicating. Your head feels dizzy from both the fear and his course fingertips on your shoulders.

“ You’ve been here for a good while. I know that you think that you’ve gone unnoticed. But trust that that could not be further from the case.” He sighed. “ To be quite honest with you sweetheart, you’ve been too much of a distraction around here. Your short little skirts are killing me.” Homelander laughs. He imagined his hands hiking up your skirt all of the time. He toys with your hair as you cannot believe that this is happening. His hands travel to your neck as you can smell the mintiness of his breath. He places soft sweet kisses on the tip of your ear as you let out a whimper.

“ I know you wanted me like this.  Ya think I don’t know why you try so hard? You want to get my attention. Think of this as a reward, yeah?” Your knees buck. The pit of desire in your stomach is getting bigger, and you're aching for more of his touch.

“ I need you to look at me” He says in his stern voice. “ And I need you to respond when I’m talking to you, kay? Sit on the table for me.”

You nod your head. A light tap of his hand kisses your left cheek.

“ Use your words, doll.” Homelander whispers and looks at you tentatively.

“oh okay” you stutter and stammer.

He impatiently unbuttons your shirt, practically tearing it open, and quickly undoing the claps of your pretty pink bra ( which you wore everyday, holding onto hope he would one day see it) clumsily breaking a clasp in the process.

“ I’ll get you a new one, its fine” Your mouth opens in a slight gasp.

His tender, soft, touch full of need finds the softness of your breasts, as he bends down to delicately pinch your nipples, hard, from the building's chill and the unfamiliar feel of his leather gloves. He bites his lips, resisting the urge to come right then and there. He lightly sets you on your back, legs dangling off the table. He looms over your view. The blonde man begins to suckle on your breast, massaging the other. His lips leave soft marks all over your tits as he rotates his hands and his lips.

“ Oh god, you feel so fucking good, sweetheart, your tits feel amazing” You let out a mewl as your pussy clenches. Filthy sounds of Homelander lapping at your tits and soft cries escaping your mouth fill the room. He lightly nibbles your nipple. In a fleeting moment of bravery, you give Homelander a request.

"Mmm want you inside"

“Not yet honey. Needa prep you first, know you can’t handle it right now. ” He unzips your skirt and throws it across the room. Your tights were thigh high, so he didn’t have to take them off like he would have liked. He looks almost animalistic as he crouches down to level with your cunt. He rubs his gloved hands up and down your bare thighs, as he inhaled the scent of your clothed pussy. You run your hands through his soft, blonde hair, thinking about how how heaven feels.

He murmurs into your pussy, “ you’re fucking soaked and i barely touched you”

His nose brushes with your clit. Catching wind of your squirming and quiet mumbles, Homelander purposely moves his nose in a circle while he maintains eye contact with you. A strong hold of his hands is on your hips, trying to contain the buildup of your pleasure. His rhythmic movement works your way toward an orgasm, and as you get higher and higher, almost reaching your peak, he moves away, toward your mouth, embracing your tongue, biting your lip softly, as your lips sloppily crashed into each other. He sat you back up as his arms moved up and down your back. Anger quickly left your body as quickly it came, you couldn’t be mad at his denial when you inhaled his fresh linen and sandalwood scent.

He breaks away from your lips .“I want you to cum on my cock, so im just gonna make you nice and wet for now, sound good?” You look into his of course that sounded good, but something felt off.

“ mmkay homelander” you mumble, feeling a bit odd and disconnected suddenly. You don’t want to call him that, his nose was in your pussy, his tongue all over your chest, it felt wrong to call him homelander. Sensing this, he does the unthinkable.

“ call me john” he mutters under his breath, almost inaudible. you grin at him.

“ mmkay john!” God. your squeal and positive attitude made his cock even harder, which he didn’t think possible. You relax a bit more, as this was a sign of him opening up.

He slowly wiggles you out of your panties, as you giggle. Leaving you fully naked, Homelander basks in the sight of you, ready and pliant for him. 

“ Yeah, what’s so funny” Homelander smiles at you. 

“ hmm. Dunno. You’re just so…” you trail off at the end of your sentence.

As you’re responding to his question, Homelander slips a finger inside you. You let out a cry, slightly rolling your head back.

“ Im so what sweetheart, finish your sentence” He grabs you by your neck, demanding a deep sloppy kiss, whilst adding another finger in your pussy, plunging deep in and out of your slick folds. He curls two fingers up,

‘So..mmph..good, feels good, john” 

“ Mmm yeah I know honey, I know ”  He coos, mockingly in between kisses. He worked his fingers until your breaths became ragged, squirming and quivering under his touch. 

“ You’re so fucking wet, baby” He grunts while you moan as John scissors his fingers in and out of your slick pussy. He moves his fingers, moving them into circles on your clit.

“Im gonna cum, please!” You plea for him to keep going, faster.

“ Ah ah ah, no i don’t think so. going do it on my dick remember?” He pulls his fingers out of your wet warmth, drags his tongue up and down his fingers.

He moans as he sucks on his own fingers, you look up at john with utter adoration.

“you taste so good mmph” Your tongues intertwine, lapping filthy at one another. He bits your earlobes while his hands lazily fidget with your nipples.

He then brings the bottom of his suit to his knees, cock swinging out. It’s egregiously thick. His length swollen and aching, leaking out precum from his pretty tip.

“ I’m going put my cock in now, ok sweetheart?” He seems to take it easy on you, as he doesn’t mention your mouth salivating at the sight of his dick.

“need it bad, been waiting for it”

“ Oh I know, i’ve seen the way you look at me” he laughs sinisterly.

He uses one of his arms to spread your thighs wider apart as his other hands supports you up, grasping the whole of your back. You smile up at him

He positions himself nearer to you, his cock at your entrance.

“ it’s gonna be a big stretch ok, need you to breath, if you need support, hold onto my shoulder.” he senses your lack of experience, or at least your naivety. you had never experienced anything like this, and you never would again, he would make sure of it.

you nod your head and look up. You’re already cock drunk, you trust him with your life. He reassures you with a kiss to your forehead.

Homelander bullies his length through your warm walls, gently and slowly. you let out a cry, both of pleasure and pain. you feel so good full, He groans into your mouth, as you moan into his.

“ ok honey, it’s going in”

“mmmphh John, so big..”

“does it hurt?” he stops in his tracks.

“a little, but not a lot” you say almost in a whisper.

“ok, ill keep going really slow, sweetheart”

He thrusts real slow, as he caresses your face. you lose feeling in your legs as he pounds softly into you. He finds him rhythm quickly as he maintains his pace. You hold onto his back as he moves his hands all over you.

“ God, your tight pussy clenching my cock feels so good sweet girl”

You smile and giggle.

“ My dick needs to be in your sweet cunt forever, sweet cunt, sweet girl” He growls into your ear.

“mm Keep going daddy!” you squeal, not knowing the damage you have done but uttering those words. Homelander feels like could come right then and there. A primal switch flipped in his brain.

Tears begin to swell in your eyes. “ I’m so so so sorry i didn’t mean to say that” Homelander sees your eyebrows furrow and your eyes widen.

His thrusts begin to pick up the pace, the perfect rhythm becomes sloppy, as your juices spill out of your thigh. His fat cock ever so slightly touches your cervix as you let out a soft sob.

“you don’t know what you do to me don’t you? Jesus, this pussy was molded for my cock” He grabs you by your knees and throws your legs over his shoulders. His dick twitches inside of you, signaling he’s about to cum, and you’re about to follow him.

“Say it again. Call me what you just called me” He annunciatesin a low voice.

“ Fuck, daddy feels good, want your cum” You feel free of all embarrassment and shame in that moment as you bask in euphoria.

“ That’s a good girl. Good girls get to cum. Good girls get filled up with daddy’s cum” Homelander never knew that this nickname did it for him. Hell, he was more of a mommy kind of guy, but he would do anything for you. Any word that came out of your mouth would make him hard, because it was you. But submitting yourself to him in this way, it did more than getting his dick up. He was disgusted by this feeling. What was it? Why did it feel so weird?

“ Oh god I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in you, give you babies oh god” He sloppily kisses your face, as fat blobs of sticky cum drip out of your cunt. He keeps his cock in your pussy, as he holds you with your face pressed to his chest.

“i need to come daddy” you stutter and shake under him.

He allows you to come and you swear you see stars. John smears his cum across your pussy, then he bends down to kiss in between your lips highs.

He helps you into your skirt and what’s left of the rest of your clothes. You smile at him, and he smiles back. A genuine smile.

that got a little more emotional then i thought it was? idk should i make more of homelander x reader in mind? if you want to give feedback feel free to :) i’m doing this to be a better writer !

divider creds: @cafekitsune @bunnysrph @anitalenia

[heavenbarnes]

completely self indulgent thoughts about older!bf simon inspired by today's events at work. I work in tech/sales and a lot of my days are spent setting up new phones for people who are 35+, that for the life of them, can't figure out technology. just thinking about older!bf simon needing to get a new phone and asks reader for her thoughts, but when reader starts talking about storage size or sim cards he gets confused and just tells her "pick whatever love, I trust your judgement" not just because he does in fact, trust her judgement, but also because he can't he bothered trying to learn and understand.

have many thoughts about this.

friend, 90% of what i write is entirely self indulgent- we’ve got to do it 🫶🏼

it’s a miracle you convinced older bf!simon to finally get rid of that god forsaken flip phone and start working with an actual smartphone.

granted, it was like pulling teeth (yes the prospect of receiving nudes whilst he was deployed helped) but what mattered was he’d finally entered the 21st century.

and then he drops his cellphone on the drive and manages to boot it into the side of the neighbour’s garage. the thing was absolutely munted by the time it’d come off the end of simon’s steel cap.

which is why you’re standing in the middle of the electronics store looking at endless tables of cellphones and simon looks like he’s there at gunpoint.

“i ‘ave been held at gunpoint, was better than this”

so you lead him to the smartphones that are smart but not too smart, the ones that look hard to break or get wrong. they also look older than half the people working in the store, but that’s besides the point.

“can i help you both with anything?”

right on cue, a young but cheery guy appears across the table with a lanyard that tells you his name is hunter and he’s ready to help!

“no”

your elbow fits nicely under simon’s ribcage as you gear up to play hunter’s defence lawyer for however long this interaction is going to take.

“hi hunter, this one is looking for a new smartphone- what do you recommend?”

and while hunter does a standup job at explaining the benefits of a handful of phones he probably hasn’t sold to anyone under 75, simon is suddenly well engaged.

“and we’ve got a selection of cases, just regular ones or tough ones”

“need t’be tough, don’t want the fucker breakin’ when i’ve got someone in a headlock”

hunter pales and you veeeery slowly turn to simon with a look on your face that begs to know what the actual fuck is wrong with him.

“oh simon, you comic trailblazer- you know what, you’ve been so helpful hunter, thank you!”

you cut the kid loose as he tries to leave the table without taking his eyes off simon, who coincidentally is doing the exact same thing to him.

“would it kill you to let him help us?!”

“just about, didn’t like the way he looked at ‘ya”

the kid didn’t look a day out of school and naturally your better half has to pick a fight with any guy that so much as exists within your atmosphere.

he’s lucky he’s so handsome.

“ugh, which one do you prefer? 32GB? 64?”

“whaddyou’ reckon?”

and you’re about to let out the longest sigh known to man when you catch the look on his face.

that same look he gives you when he’s dressed up for dinner or just come back from a haircut, the look he gives you that tells you he’s looking for your opinion.

approval

“32 would do you, i don’t think you need that much space”

he grunts before he pulls you into his side, taking you both to the counter so he can get you to say all that again to your helpful attendee.

“oi, hunter”

poor guy nearly jumps out of his skin but manages to settle when he realises he’s about to close the sale, even manages to upsell that tough case.

simon settles once he’s back in the car with you, eyes scanning the box his phone comes in and grumbling something under his breath.

when you ask him to speak up you immediately wish you hadn’t.

“lost all those videos ‘f yours, better be enough space f’the new ones”