#but if u take all that away then the phrase is good. and that's how sonic would see it

[t4tmetalsonic]

i think sonic would actually really like the phrase "live laugh love" but not bc he likes the aesthetic that it usually belongs to, or is anything like the people who would hang those signs in their house. he would just see it somewhere w no context and think wow live laugh love? that's what i do!! and he would unironically say it bc it DOES fit him. like he would graffiti tag it around the city

[cryolyst]

~

[lassieposting]

Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

[keyotos]

well aware, you are always mine

summary ⎯ bf headcanons w/ hsr men!!

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo, jing yuan

tana's thoughts ⎯ keyotos being active and writing?!!!?!!?!?!

dan heng

⎯ TOTAL acts of service bf. cuts fruit for you, organizes your closet with you, helps you rearrange ur bookshelf. like all of that. he is ur #1 helper in all situations and is probably the most reliable person u know. if ur ever having problems, you always call dan heng bc he always solves them for you

⎯ considerate bf. listens to all ur song recommendations and also your book recommendations. never takes your word with a grain of salt (most of the time)

⎯ not a big fan of shopping trips, but will go with you anyway. he will carry all your bags and help you pick out clothes. AND HE WILL GIVE U ACTUAL FREAKING ADVICE INSTEAD OF BEING LIKE, "it all looks good on you."

⎯ like dan heng will pull up with, "that color washes you out," or, "that does not match your color pallete at all." he's detailed wit it too?? the only reason why he knows all of this is bc he pays attention to you.

you see something you like? let's find it in that color that matches w/ ur fav pants so you can wear it all the time. don't worry, i already found it.

you look dissatisfied? dan heng thinks he knows why: you think it won't look good. oh, he was right? well, he can help you style it in a way for it to look good. you can wear that with the shirt you like so much, with some added jewelry, of course.

⎯ does not spend ANY TIME in his room (but who could rlly blame him). he's always in yours and he's lying down in your bed. he takes the phrase, "make yourself at home," to another level. but i guess he gets a pass bc you literally are his home.

⎯ he's sarcastic asl. since his guard is down with you, there's not really a need to maintain seriousness at all times. his dry and sarcastic humor really comes out when you're around him specifically. dating dan heng would make u a victim of the sassy men apocalypse.

⎯ dan heng is the type of person to stare at you lovingly (like HEART EYES are coming out) while you guys are taking a photo together. and you wouldn't even know until you saw the photo. like picture this: you are over here smiling and being cute or whateva. and then dan heng is there. he's obliviously staring at you: like how the light perfectly bounces off your face and how perfectly your eyes crinkle when you smile.

⎯ when he feels secure around you, he is the definition of lovesick. longing stares from far away (even tho ur dating)? yes. touchy (you make sure to tease him about it)? yes. buries his head in the nape of your neck? duh. like he is the whole package and he can never seem to let you go... like ever. you are constantly stuck in his head and also his body.

gepard

⎯ hilariously bad at taking pictures. like you tell him to get one angle and he gets the exact opposite angle. manages to always catch you off guard in every. single. picture. his excuse for this is, "but you look good in all of them :/"

⎯ when he gets super tired after work, sometimes when he gets home and finishes showering/etc, he just flops onto u. like. literally flops onto you. you're always shocked at first, but you move him into a position where he can comfortably sleep (and hold you) in and then you relax. he always apologizes for it later in the morning and makes sure to shower you in more affection than last night, but you always reassure him that it's fine.

it's only bc u take the time to take equally bad photos of him #payback.

⎯ you have to water his plants for him. we all saw this coming. but on the bright side, that means ur home more often!! and when you greet him on the couch after a long day... like you've never heard a deeper sigh of relief before. doesn't collapse on you like other days (thankfully). you two just spend the night eating dinner on the couch and watching reality tv. sometimes, when you fall asleep on the couch, gepard always brings a blanket from your bedroom and drapes it over you. and then he carries you into bed.

⎯weirdly good at cracking your back for you. like if he wasn't the captain of the silvermane guards, he could very well be a freaking chiropractor. like he knows all the right joints to pop, all the right places to put his hands, and all the right places to press down. and it feels SO GOOD. you've never asked him about it.

⎯ gets you really cute and considerate gifts since he isn't around a lot. sometimes gets lynx to deliver them for him. and they're always paired with your favorite flowers too. all his gifts r things that he remembered you liked/wanted (new shampoo brand, new book pela recommended, new plants).

⎯ still asks if you wanna go out even if you two have been dating long term. like he would text you and be like, "would you like to go out with me for coffee," all formal and wtv, and you would respond like, "gepard we have been dating for five years. you do not need to ask."

he would get all flustered when you would bring it up at the coffee shop. pays for your coffee so you could forget about it (you don't: you tease him endlessly).

⎯ learns other things for you. he's dedicated and loyal to you like how a soldier is dedicated to their general. if you wanted a specific kind of dish, gepard would learn how to create it. if you wanted to learn how to plant certain seeds, gepard would run to the florist (and pela) to ask for many tips. if you spoke a different language, gepard would be running to duolingo.

though there is always his duty, a part of his heart and soul will always belong to you.

blade

⎯ contrary to gepard, takes the BEST FUCKING PHOTOS of you. he should be a professional photographer or something because, all the photos he takes, makes you look like a MODEL. he gets all the angles perfectly right + he always makes sure the lighting looks good. and u look back at all the photos he took and ur jaw is DROPPED

⎯ hates going outside x goes outside 24/7. you're big on exploration and fun while blade wants to lie low. but either way, you two manage to have fun in your own respective ways. blade watches you from a distance (of 1 foot) and only intervenes if he needs to. other than that, you drag him around the entire place. he is not complaining: one stupid and cheeky grin from you, and blade realizes he is an absolute goner.

⎯ a little too supportive. it's a good thing in all aspects except for one: making decisions. this mf is like, "whatever you do, i fully support your decision." BUT THE PROBLEM IS THAT YOU CANNOT MAKE A DECISION. THAT'S WHY UR ASKING HIM.

⎯ this problem comes up very often during shopping trips. where dan heng excels at shopping trips, blade... not so much. blade is the type of bf to say, "everything looks good on you." but not bc he doesn't care enough: he genuinely thinks you look good in everything.

in his mind it's like: how could you think you look bad in that outfit when you are radiating luminosity from every crevice of the room??? does anyone else see that glow coming from you, or was it just him??

⎯ did not have a favorite color until you. he actually didn't have a lot of favorites before he met you. now his favorite color is blue (you like looking at the sky), his favorite scent is peach blossoms (the shampoo you use), and his favorite food is fried rice (it's the only thing you know how to make).

⎯ does ur hair for u. expert in hair care but it's not uncalled for (his only friends⎯not counting you⎯are silverwolf and kafka). you need to braid your hair? blade has already offered before u could even pull up a tutorial. a new cute hairstyle you wanted to try? don't worry, your boyfriend is there to help you part, section, and clip your hair.

⎯ pretends to give off big scary dog energy, in reality he is a small little lapdog. desires your love and affection so often. does not go out without you. grabs things n carries them to u like a cute little dog would. he's very devoted okay?? let him bring u stupid little trinkets and stay by ur side all the time.

⎯ you send him stupid ass memes all the time. one time u sent him one of those stupid 'good night' memes and he threatened to block you (lovingly). but he found that his reactions always make you laugh (and blade wants to keep you happy forever), so he just lets you send them to him atp. most nights, he sends a simple, "good night" text back. but when he wants to tease you, he sends a goodnight meme back.

⎯ those nights, he thinks that he hears your ecstatic giggles from down the hall. you sound so giddy that it makes his heart want to blow up. those are the good nights.

sampo

⎯ bro is mischievous. he leaves little sticky notes for you all around the house and makes it a game for u to find them. they're not even super important too they're just little things like, "i miss you," or, "did u find all the notes???"

⎯ but he knows you get bored easily, so he made those notes so that you could have something to do during the day. his intentions are adorably sweet, but his execution is so. um. A FOR EFFORT!

⎯ most of the stuff he gives you... hate to break it to u but they are usually stolen. if you choose to ignore that, great! most of the things he grabs are usually rare and u have no idea how he gets them. you swear he doesn't leave belobog, but some of the items he gifts you seem a little too... outlandish. but yk, it's the thought that counts!

⎯ manages to distract you from every single task. usually disruptive, but sometimes, very helpful. after an entire day of work, you can always come back home to where sampo is, because he will always find a way to distract you from whatever stress you have on your plate. whether it be cooking you dinner or simply talking you through his day, you always find yourself feeling slightly better around him.

⎯ has a good relationship with your family. yeah this was very unexpected on both ends. your parents love him: they love his humor and his looks and literally are charmed by him. even tho is a CON ARTIST. anyway. sampo loves your parents and messes around with you by calling them as their parental names (mom/dad). you are not amused.

⎯ grabs dinner before he comes back home. always manages to swing by a place you like and he always gets free food (you've gave up trying to question his methods). before, when he brought home food, it was usually a special occasion because he would never be home often. now, it's a common occurrence: he's wanted to be with you more, and now he brings home food every day.

jing yuan

⎯ the xianzhou's nagging king. this is not a good thing. he nags at you for a lot. did you take your allergy meds? did you eat breakfast today or just drink coffee? did you forget to clear out the pencils on your desk? he does it out of endearment. it does not make it less annoying (lies).

⎯ so accustomed to your little routines together that he can do it with his eyes closed. how do you want your tea? easy: he can list it within ten seconds. he can make it with his eyes closed. and he will always make it perfectly too.

⎯ lets you sleep on mimi (you could say you go mimimimi). not even gonna lie, sometimes he wishes he was mimi. you just sleep so peacefully on her, but you refuse to sleep on jing yuan. you make up stupid excuses like, "your bicep is going to be numb by the time we wake up." but that is simply not true (it is).

⎯ favorite times of day are when it's night. okay that didn't make any sense but he really just likes spending the night with you. it's quiet and the world is much less loud, and it feels like being with you redefined the definition of happiness. everything is so much more peaceful, and plus, you were there.

⎯ being a cloud knight general has its negative aspects. so, much like gepard, he would probably also crash into bed with you at night. but this time, he doesn't need you to move him, because he traps you in between his arms every. damn. time. it's like this man cannot fall asleep without you.

⎯ sitting down with him is like a chore. if you two are sitting down, jing yuan likes to grab your legs and move them onto himself, so you two would be closer. this isn't just on the sofa, by the way. armchairs, conference chairs, office chairs. the chairs don't even have to be connected. he'll just find a way to connect you two anyway.

⎯ you are the first person he looks for in a crowded room. in a place full of people, jing yuan's eyes will only scan for you. his height makes it easier to do so btw. but anyway, you are someone of great importance to him. he doesn't want to lose you like how he lost so many. and when he finds you, it's like the sun shines directly on you: it's always a surreal sight when jing yuan sees you, because he always thinks the sun has risen.

⎯ it hasn't. he was always looking at you.

AND GOOD NIGHT. jfc.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s child

Tony Stark x child!reader

warnings: alcohol ment,

a/n: so i just really think that the concept of tony having the party kid as opposed to nerdy avenger kid would be a really cool idea to explore teehee. most of this does actually take place pre-avengers tho!!

prompt:

you we’re quite the exhausting kid

“is this really how it felt to raise me?” -tony

many of nights he’d find your bed empty, you’d snuck out to go have your fun as teenagers do

“yeah, boss, i imagine it was” -happy

you always showed back up in one piece (like him) and besides a little slap on the wrist you didn’t get much discipline

actually, it usually went like:

“so, where did you go off to last night?” -tony

“a party” -you

“really? didn’t want to loop me in before you snuck out…again?”

“last time i told you about a party you showed up!”

“uh—yeah, but it’s not like i went all dad on you and dragged you away or anything”

“yeah, you joined the party and offered to buy teenagers more booze”

“hey, they all loved you after that! and they couldn’t get enough of my classic dance moves” -tony, jokingly doing the sprinkler with one arm “but seriously, let me know next time”

“we’ll see about that” -you

^the above conversion went about the same every time

sometimes for entertainment purposes you’d try a little harder, throw a few pillows under the covers to make it look like you were still home to put a smile on tony’s face

“aw, y/n reminds me so much of me” -tony

tony was still partying at this point so you’d flip the script on him from time to time

“you were out late” -you

“what are you, a cop? leave me alone. actually, can you get me some aspirin and water?” -tony

“sure, one or two” -you

“make it three” -tony

he would nurse your occasional hangovers (what a great dad!)

okay, he didn’t always know when you were gone. he was busy a lot of the time with his own business and extracurriculars so you guys did just kinda do your own thing for certain stretches of time

honestly you could be a bit of a klepto in the best of ways

but only to tony and only for fun

“oh, great, where’s my car?” -tony

“which one?” -pepper

“the black one!” -tony

“be more specific” -pepper

“the only one missing from my garage!” -tony

“yeah, i know, just wanted to give you some more time to think about it” -pepper

“i changed the code on the lockbox like, five times this week. did they hotwire it?” -tony

“we are talking about your kid, right? pretty sure they just hacked it” -pepper

“i am…so proud” -tony

you MAY have gotten a few close calls with authorities, but nothing tony couldn’t handle

and up until tony’s accident, the phrase “you’re going to give me a heart attack” was silly and endearing

“you might actually give me a heart attack, y/n, give a guy some warning or just say please for god’s sake” -tony, now comes with an arc reactor in his chest

“sorry” -you

“what—huh—didn’t hear ya, wanna say that a little louder?” -tony, very sarcastically

i tell ya when he got that armor u couldn’t tell if u were gonna flip out at him or invite him to a party

or steal it for…you didn’t even know what

but tony was 3 steps ahead of you when all this came to be

and you weren’t very interested in weapons, still just parties and dumb fun for you

“dad, i dont wanna be a nerd, will you just let me go out?” -you

“come on! just help me in the lab a few hours, what’s it gonna hurt?” -tony

“my social status” -you

“might i remind you you’re a stark? i think you’ll live if you miss one party” -tony

“you’d be surprised” -you

“hey, i almost died! give your old man a break” -tony

once tony got involved with SHIELD and the avengers he got even busier really

and in came the parenting advice from fury, clint, nat, steve

“hey, i don’t see you raising a teenager, back off” -tony

*clint side eye*

steve once tried to give you a good talking to, but you reminded him a great bit of your father with your stubbornness

“you done? i dont think you should be giving out any parenting tips fresh off the ice” -you

tony was kind of proud of you for sticking to your guns

especially around such powerful people

but you had a knack for that and could do it to practically anyone

mostly because you felt like an invincible teenager since you were raised by tony, who also thought himself an invincible teenager at one point

u tried to tone down giving tony grief when he started having panic attacks

since u accidentally caused a few by pushing boundaries and staying out for several nights in a row

cuz as tony gained more enemies, he thought you’d be in more danger

which was true

“happy, you’re y/n’s personal bodyguard” -tony

“no!” -you

“uh, cool? any fun parties planned tonight? i’ll be the designated driver. god knows i’ve been tony’s too many times” -happy

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

[purinfelix]

doctor's orders ₊˚⊹♡ - franco colapinto

summary: as if your hospital placement hasn't been stressful enough, you're thrown a new challenge - an injured biker, and his big mouth w/c: 1.7k words

a/n: u ever see a man so beautiful that you just want to patch up all his injuries and kiss him on the forehead and tell him it'll all be okay? ( ALSO LOOK I WAS PLANNING ON POSTING THIS BEFORE I FOUND OUT ABT ALL THE DRAMA BUT ITS TOO LATE NOW SO HERE WE ARE ENJOY THIS ANYWAYS SDJFKS)

"Sorry, but am I in the right place?"

If it weren't for his half-torn jacket and pleading eyes, you might've punched him in the face out of frustration right there and then. You just didn't have time for this, not now, when the emergency room was as full as ever and you were rushing back and forth making sure everything was under wraps. You weren't sure why - you were only a nursing student after all, but your advisor had said something about "real world experience" before slinking away for his lunch break, over an hour ago. Leaving you here to deal with this chaos. And now, a very good-looking man with some very bad-looking injuries.

"Yeah, please just have a seat and fill out this form, I'll be with you in a minute sir," you rattle off your pre-practised phrases hurriedly, shoving a clipboard into his arms and pacing off somewhere else. Behind you, you hear the shuffling of his boots as he returns to his chair in the waiting room, the one next to him occupied by his helmet.

It's a while before you talk to him again, at least half an hour, but the way he talks to you definitely doesn't reflect the time he's been waiting - or the amount of pain you're assuming he's in.

“Hello,” you pause, scanning the form he’s filled out with his details for a name, “Franco.”

“Hello Doc,” he smiles at you atop the hospital bed you’ve got him sitting on. 

“Biking injury?” 

“Yes ma’am,” he gestures to his helmet and scuffed racing jacket that are piled on the stool in the corner. 

“How bad?” 

“Not that bad, you should see the other guy,” he jokes, and even though it’s corny you offer an amused smile. 

“Right, okay then Franco, I’m going to have you take off your shirt.” When you look up from your clipboard, he’s posed comedically with his hands over his chest, donning a shocked expression.

“Woah, so forward doctor! At least take me out to dinner first.” 

“I need to see your injuries,” you sigh, and he only offers you a sly smile as he hops off the bed to do as you say.  

As a nursing student, you’d definitely seen your fair share of gross things - one only needed to look back to you lesson on pressure injuries to see that. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the gory mess that revealed itself as he peeled off his shirt, which was already caked with dried blood. 

“Holy-“ you start, before stopping yourself in the name of professionalism - but it’s too late and he whips his head around with a concerned look.

“What? Bad?” 

“Some would say so,” you try to steady your voice and sound as convincing as possible, already setting aside your clipboard to gather the things you need. You’re not sue if you should be doing this, or whether you even have the qualifications to - but you’re pretty sure waiting any longer might put him in danger. 

You pat the top of the bed to signal for him to sit on it again. “I need you to stay still for me, okay?” you say in the softest, most comforting tone you can manage. 

He nods and does as you say, and for the first time in the somewhat short period you’ve known him, his mask of confidence slips - revealing a slight vulnerability, and even a hint of fear. 

“It’s going to be okay, I’ll be quick,” you continue to reassure him, and he nods again. “This is going to sting a little though,” you warn as you reach into your side tray for a cotton pad soaked in iodine. Touching it gently to the smallest of his cuts, he lets out a hiss of pain, his back straightening up as he jerks away. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, though you continue to dab at his wounds. “Do you want to tell me how this happened?” You’re hoping the conversation will at least distract him as you work, or at the very least give you some information to fill his file with. But he only shakes his head reluctantly. 

“Aright then, what should we talk about?” 

There’s a beat of silence before he responds. “You?”

“Well, who’s the forward one now,” you joke, though the weak laugh he lets out tells you he’s far from kidding. If he were any other patient, in any other situation, you’d be prepared to refuse this request as per hospital guidelines. But from the shaky tone in his voice and the sight of his injuries, you can tell just how much he needs this - and so you oblige. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Let’s start with,” he pauses to let out a pained groan as you continue cleaning his wounds, “your name?” 

With one hand holding the cotton ball to his back, you lift the other to tug the lanyard holding your student ID off your neck and into his line of sight. 

“Nice photo,” he laughs as he takes it, pointing out your less-than-flattering headshot. 

“Don’t,” you threaten, though you feel comforted at the sound of his laughter, a more genuine one this time. 

“It doesn’t do you justice, you’re a lot better looking in real life.” 

“Alright, remind me to check you for a concussion later as well.” 

“No, I’m being serious!” 

“Just be quiet will you,” you huff, and he does as you say - giving you time to toss away the soaked-through cotton balls and reach for your bandages. 

“Student?” he pipes up again, eyes scanning your card. 

“Yeah, I’m here on placement.” 

“So you’re not a nurse?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t an actual doctor be doing this? Or at least, I don’t know, watching you?” 

“It’s been really busy this afternoon so my supervisor is,” you pause, trying your best to come up with a sensible excuse, “helping other patients. 

“Right,” he hums. 

“Why, am I not doing good enough?” 

“No I  didn’t say that!” You let out a laugh at his defensive tone, and the way he whips around to look at you apologetically with round eyes. 

“I’m kidding, though if you would feel more comfortable I can get you an older doctor.” 

“No, definitely not! I like you,” he blurts out, and it’s clear he hasn’t thought his words completely through by the way he continues to ramble a second after. “I mean, you know, an older doctor would probably like give me a lecture on road safety or something,” he follows up. As he turns around you can see the slight red tinge at the tips of his ears, causing you to let out an amused hum in agreeable as you finish patching him up. 

“Wait since you’re not a proper nurse yet,” he pipes up again a sly expression on his face, “do you still have to follow all the rules and things like that?” 

“Well, yes, I’m basically working here,” you reply, a little concerned. 

“So does that mean it’d be unprofessional for you to give me your number, you know since I’m your patient and everything?” 

This is the first thing he’s said that’s managed to actually catch you off guard, and even years of medical school isn’t enough to help you come up with an answer. “Wh- well, anyways I’ve done the best I can but you have gotten knocked up pretty bad,” you say, opting to switch the topic, “so I’d probably recommend staying overnight just so we can keep an eye on you.” 

You turn to pack up the equipment you haven’t used and grab his clipboard to make a couple notes. Behind you though, he lets out a pained groan - piquing your interest. 

“Don’t worry, it’ll just be for one or two nights and we’ll try our best to make it as comfortable as possible.” 

“I know doc, it’s just that-“ he starts, turning around to face you. 

“Why, got a girlfriend to get home to?” 

He lets out an amused scoff, “as if, I just have other things to get to.” 

“Right, well,” you clear your throat, a little embarrassed at having made a wrong assumption, “we physically cannot let you go, not in this state - consider it doctor’s orders.” 

He sighs again, though his tone is less annoyed now, and slightly more nervous. “I’ve just,” he pauses, searching for the right words, “I don’t know, hospitals kind of creep me out.” 

You spin around, a newfound tenderness in your expression as you look at him, “Oh, I see.” 

“I know it’s embarrassing, you know, since I’m a biker or whatever but-“ 

You take a couple steps closer to him, eyes scanning over his bare chest and up to his right collarbone which dons a thick scar which you can tell is from a surgery a long time ago. You gesture to it with a gloved hand, “That got anything to do with it?” 

His expression turns a little shy as his hand comes up to feel at what you’re taking about, “partially.” 

“Don’t worry, they used to freak me out too but, I-, we, will make sure it’s as comfortable for you as possible.”  He still looks a little reluctant but slips his shirt back on and heads to grab his things. The two of you walk out of the emergency room and out into the hallway. The hospital seems to have quietened down a little, the chaos from earlier being replaced by a sort of serene quiet as patients and doctors shuffle around. The two of you make your way up to the inpatient unit, where you manage to find Franco his own room for the night. 

“Plus, this way we’ll have plenty of time for you to fill me in on the details of how you ended up like this, and maybe how you got that lovely scar if I’m lucky enough.” You say as you gesture for him to go inside the room that’ll house him for the next day or so. 

“And if I’m lucky enough, maybe time to talk you into giving me your number,” he laughs as he sits down on the bed. 

You shake your head as you let out a soft laugh, already walking out of the room, “Goodnight Franco.” 

“See you tomorrow, Doc.” 

taglist: (reply/send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

[lyv-writes]

OKAYY WE NEED DAD!SPENCER REID‼️

okay so Reader is going out for the day for like a little girls day with her best friends and says bye to Spencer and the cute little toddler! Buttt then the toddler starts missing reader and Spencer isn’t sure how to handle it at first, but then he gets the hang of it! <33

AAAA this is so cute omg thank u for this!!! i hope i was able to do it justice <33

spencer reid x mom!reader

words: 1,395

warnings: none really! just spencer being a good step-dad to your daughter, fluff, baby crying, that’s it!! :]

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

“Thanks again, Spence,” you say, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips before tugging your coat off the hook and making for the front door. “Remember, Lila is allergic to kiwi. And her bedtime is 8, no exceptions. She has to go to daycare tomorrow morning.”

You had spent the morning holding Lila, playing with her and soaking up her laughter as much as you could. Spencer knew you had never really been apart from her—going to work was one thing, but there was a guilt that came with taking the day for yourself. He watches with a fond smile as you ramble through the list that you had already repeated to him twice and does his best to reassure you, nodding along despite having already memorized it.

Pre-made food in the fridge.

Medical information on the fridge in case of emergencies.

Call if she gets too fussy.

“Oh!” You say, halfway out the door before turning back to Spencer, a smile gracing your face. “And don’t let her convince you to give her sweets after dinner. She’ll ask you for fruit snacks, all cute, then she won’t sleep and it will be hell in the morning.”

“No fruit snacks after dinner, got it,” Spencer said, following your line of sight to Lila sitting on her plush rug in the living room, toys surrounding her as she played. Your face softened, affection swimming in your eyes and he could practically hear the thoughts going through your head. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he gently guides your face back to meet his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” he says, tone soft as your shoulders sag at the understanding behind his words. “You deserve to have a day with your friends. I think Lila can handle playing dolls with me for a few hours.”

His phrasing made you giggle, picturing Lila’s pouting face, wagging her little finger at Spencer when he takes something too literally, or doesn’t do it the way she wants. For some reason, Lila is never happy with the voices Spencer does, and after a year-and-a-half she still gets that same little pinched brow whenever Spencer holds a doll in his hand, high-pitched voice mimicking a princess’s until she yanks the toy out of his hand with a firm, yet cute, “No, ‘Penth.”

Without fail, hearing his name in her little voice makes his heart soar, pride filling his chest even if she’s scolding him, wagging her little finger as she says it. He’d always been hesitant at the idea of being a father, whenever he pictured his future that was always a blurry part, but now he couldn’t imagine not having you and Lila in his life.

Searching his face, you finally come to the conclusion that he’s being sincere and a bright smile covers your face. Spencer had come to terms a long time ago, far before the two of you were even dating, that he would do anything to make you smile. A sense of pride wells in his chest knowing that the smiles you give him are just for him, a special glint in your eyes every time.

Between work, and Lila, there was hardly any downtime to just relax. Your evenings were often spent wrangling Lila into bed, usually with Spencer if he’s not away for work. Spencer made it a point to be home in time to have dinner with both of you as much as he could, slowly getting involved in her night time routine. She was 6-months-old when you and Spencer began dating, and while it took some getting used to at first, Lila began reaching for Spencer with a giggle and a giddy squeeze soon enough.

When your friends suggested a girl’s spa-day, Spencer was quick to encourage you to go. Having a toddler made it hard to have a social life, especially when your friends weren’t moms themselves. Lila had warmed up quickly to Spencer, which was the biggest relief, and it was hard to find a reason to say no when Spencer offered to babysit.

“She’s gonna be my daughter,” Spencer said, a fond smile on his face as the two of you spoke conspiratorially in the kitchen. “I already think of her as mine, I’d be happy to watch her for the day.”

Your heart swelled hearing his words, and you couldn’t help but say yes when he put it like that. Spencer, you, and Lila being your own happy little family was all you could ever ask for, and it meant more than Spencer could ever know that he had been so welcoming and understanding. He was a dream.

With a final glance at Lila and a sigh, you’re pressing another unhurried kiss to Spencer’s lips, that same lil dazed smile on his face that he got after every kiss, even after nearly 2 years. “Thank you, Spence. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your forehead—you were gonna be gone all day, he had to get his fill while he could. “Now go before you miss your appointment.”

With a final kiss, Spencer watches as you walk down the front steps, drive away, waiting until he can't see your car anymore before he’s turning around and closing the door behind him. When he looks up, Lila is already looking at him, eyes glancing between the door and him before her small voice is heard over the cartoon playing on the tv.

“Mama?”

“Mama went to the store,” Spencer cooed, lowering himself down to sit on the floor in front of her and her array of toys. “She’s coming back, don’t worry.”

“Mama s’ore?” she whispered in her small voice, her wide eyes blinking slowly at him before her lip began to tremble. It broke his heart to see her eyes, which looked so much like yours, gloss over with tears.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Spencer said, scooping her up in his arms. “She’s coming back for you. She’ll be here soon!”

With a sharp wail for her mom, the tears that had been welling up began falling in big drops, hands gripping tightly to the fabric of his shirt as she cried. Hurriedly, he began to bounce her in his arms, mimicking the way he had seen you do it countless times. He’s shushing her in a soft voice, whispering soothing words in the hopes that they’ll at least calm your crying.

Spencer wracks his brain, trying to sift through the information he had gleaned from the parenting books he had been reading for the past two years—he had started as soon as he came to the conclusion he would ask you out. Would showing her pictures of you work? He didn’t want to make things worse by making her miss you more, but maybe seeing your face would soothe her.

Transferring Lila to one hip, he fishes his phone from his pocket and opens the album of your photos, showing her various selfies, focusing on pictures he has of the two of you. After a couple of minutes her sobs quieted to sniffles and soon enough she was swiping through the pictures herself and giggling every time she saw your face.

With her swiping, it landed on a video, one he had taken of you reading a story to her before bed. At the time he had thought the voices you were using for the characters were so funny, hiding his own laughter behind his hand so that he could capture the sound of Lila’s giggles.

Spencer watches as she giggles along with herself, laughing at the way she reacts when you tickle her tummy. Spencer cant help the fond laugh the slips from his lips at the sight, bright grin tugging at his cheeks at your rosy smile.

When you arrive home that evening, only the kitchen light is on downstairs, the faint light from your bedroom guiding you as you softly push open the door. A warm smile paints your face as you slip your phone from your pocket, taking quite a few pictures of Lila, fast asleep atop Spencer’s chest, her favorite book lying next to his relaxed hand. His soft breaths rustle the hair at Lila’s scalp, her hand loosely gripping the edge of his sleeve as she sleeps.

Tip-toeing around the room, you shed your clothes from the day, slip on some pajamas before placing Spencer’s book on the nightstand. Slipping softly under the covers, you curl yourself around Spencer’s side, hand resting on Lila’s back as you fall asleep, comfortable with the people you love the most.

[arminsumi]

Your blog is my daily serotonin <3

geto letting you put eyeliner on him while sitting on his lap- taking the opportunity to flirt with you!!! I'm imagining soft, light, almost tickling touches and his sultry eyes. reader *desperately* trying to keep her cool...

ahhhhaaaaaaaa

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ?

A/N: stawppp u made me blush tysm 💗 also this idea made me SPIN in my spinny chair i love it sm. sugie's eyes are so mesmerizing 🫠 (p.s. ur theme is so prettyyy!!)

Wc ≈ 1.4k

Pairing: GETO Suguru x f.reader

Summary: practicing putting eyeliner on your best friend, while sat in his lap. He can't help but take this chance to flirt with you. Of course, a certain someone interrupts your moment right at the end

Warnings; Satoru being a jackass and totally interrupting u guys at THE moment lol

♪ melting like an ice cream when you smile

“Is it bothering you? Should I clip it back?” Suguru asked.

“Nooo, I don’t mind it.” you replied. “I can keep your bangs at bay with my pinkie, ‘s all good.”

What you did mind was the proximity between you and him.

You could feel the support of his muscular thighs and the engulfing warmth radiating from his chest even through that oversized cotton shirt of his. The very white shirt that had always driven your senses wild for some reason – probably because of how its short sleeves teasingly hinted at his toned arms underneath without completely showing them off.

Pinkie keeping his bangs at bay, fingertip lightly pressing against his cheekbone and hair tickling your skin, you applied the eyeliner with slow, meticulous strokes.

Suguru was mesmerized. You looked focused like an artist at work on a painting. And he noticed that you seemed mesmerized, too. Even a bit shy, which he commented on because it was so unlike you.

“Shy, huh?” He teased.

“I’m not shy.” You denounced half-heartedly. “Why would I be?”

He just smirked in response, and that itself had such an effect on you; your careful line became an inky squiggle. “Oh no! No no no!” you muttered under your breath, hastily using your pinkie to wipe the mistake away but that only resulted in smudging it awkwardly into the crease of his eyes.

“Don’t laugh! Don’t smile! I have to fix the corner…” you begged with Suguru, but that only made him laugh and smile harder. He apologized through soft chuckles.

After correcting the mistake, you pulled back from his face to check that both sides seemed equal. Only when you pulled your face away like this, did you and Suguru realize in the back of your minds that you were quite close to each other earlier…

“Mesmerized by something?” he asked teasingly. His cool voice was so close to your ears, it felt like it reverberated in your whole chest.

Sultry eyes narrowed interestedly at you as you observed the corners of them. Those abyssal irises demanded eye contact from you, and once they got it, they peered into your soul. Suguru loved doing that, not only to appreciate your eyes but because of your sweet, shy reaction.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. Just making sure both sides look the same.” You told him.

“Mhm.” He hummed.

Maybe the broken eye contact is what led him to snake his arms around your waist and pull you closer. Or maybe he just missed the intimate closeness that you had with him earlier, when your faces were quite close.

 You tried to distract yourself from the bubbling heat in the pit of your stomach that his subtle touch caused. “I’m not very talented at eyeliner…” you admitted.

“Really? I think yours always looks good.” Suguru said.

“Just ‘good’ ?! That means I look bad.”

He chuckled. “No I – alright, I’ll phrase it better; you always look like you’re ready for a photoshoot.”

“Oh, stop flirting!” you scolded him playfully, causing his lips to stretch into a cheeky smile.

“Aw, you caught me in the act.” He muttered sultrily.

You tried not to smile, but that was very impossible in the moment. It seems it was the same for him, too. Being so close to you with his arms wrapped around your waist put him in an excited daze.

Sunset light streamed in through the sheer curtains, patterned shadows forming on the white bed made it seem like you were sitting on a grey meadow of flowers, twigs and leaves. A very slight rumble of traffic rose over the railing of the balcony just outside the sliding door. Tokyo had a certain sound and feeling to it, one you could never put your finger on.

After a bout of silence, you realized you and him had stopped talking and just stared into one another’s eyes. You’d even stopped applying the eyeliner. Stomachs knotted up with feelings, the two of you were both about to say something to each other before you blurted out “The brown eyeliner fits you well, glad I chose it.”

“Oh?” he batted his lashes at you… or was that an involuntary action? Who knows. You continued to carefully flick the felt tip of the eyeliner until a tiny, sharp angle was formed.

Well, ‘sharp’. It wasn’t as razor-edged as the other side, which really bothered you. The way you flitted your eyes between his two made him crack a smile that made his Addam’s apple subtly shift up and down.

“Do I look bad?” he asked curiously.

“Not at all… you look ho- you look good with eyeliner.” You replied.

“Oh, I look hot, huh? You crushin’ on me? Satoru’s gonna be heartbroken.” He joked.

“I'm not crushing — !” you squeaked quickly in response, taken aback.

“You’re not crushing on me or you’re not crushing on him?”

“I’ve never… I’m not crushing on Satoru.” You told him.

Such an unexpectedly serious question for him throw into the mellow atmosphere. He tried to sound light-hearted so he wouldn’t scare you off from answering, or give hint to his nervousness.

“So then…?”

“So then what?” you blinked at him, all movements of the eyeliner brush ceased. Things were getting heatedly exciting.

“So then, you have a thing for me?”

You widened your eyes at him. His heart thumped, he was getting nervous – unsure how to judge your reactions to his questions. He was trying to assess whether you liked him or not, and you were making it so hard. If only he could read your mind, he thought.

“Huh? What? Stop flustering me!” You laughed it off.

He could tell you were avoiding answering out of nervousness, but it still irked him; he really wanted to know.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just spring that on you so suddenly. I was just… curious.” He said.

You sighed. “I’m… I’m already melting over you, no need to vaporize me.”

“Oh? You’re melting?” his eyes lit up, “Why?”

“Because…” you trailed off immediately, “No reason.” You lied.

“No reason?” he questioned, raising his brows sceptically, “You sure about that?”

With the way he raised his brows, his eyes became even more spellbinding. You felt completely bewitched by them. The pigment of the liquid eyeliner, paired with the undertones of the eye pencil you started with, paired with the slight glint of light in his eyes – all of it made that bubbling heat in your stomach explode into an even bigger feeling.

You got so lost in his pretty, abyssal eyes that you didn’t realize how silent you’d become, or how close you had gotten to his face – not that he minded the increased proximity, it had his heart pumping hard.

“You okay? Still melting?” he teased.

“Sorry! I’m just – “

“ – mesmerized by me? Melting for me?” he teased further.

“Suguru!” you laughed shyly.

“There’s no need to keep playing it off, I can see right through you.” He said seriously.

Your eyes lingered on his for much too long. It felt like what he said was true – it felt like he really could see right through you, like you were transparent. He was itching to break the tension between you and him with a feverish kiss. One of those classic, best-friends-to-lovers kisses that you see in the movies.

But then guess who burst through the door of your apartment as loudly as possible? Yeah, the jackass that you regretfully gave your apartment key to.

“YOUR SAVIOR HAS ARRIVED!” Satoru hollered, striding down the hallway and popping his head into your bedroom to find you and Suguru breaking apart very quickly, as if you weren’t just on his lap about to share your first kiss.

“Did ya miss me? ‘Course you did. What?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

“What’s with that look?” Satoru whined.

“Nothiiing!” You groaned, Suguru just chuckled under his breath.

“Yuh, I mean, I didn’t do anything, after all. Weirdos.” Oh, you really wanted to shove a pillow into his face.

He pounced on the bed, coming right between you and Suguru without thinking too much of it. “I’m so hungry – let’s get takeout.” He whined and rolled around on your bed. He pleaded until you gave in. “Yay, let’s fuckin’ go then I’m so starved.” He said dramatically.

So you and Suguru readied yourselves to go out for a spontaneous food trip.

“What a pity.” He said with the utmost sultriness in his eyes and voice, leaving you at the doorframe with a wink that lingered in your mind for the rest of the day.

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

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[grandisknight]

kiss me through the phone | caleb

summary: You hit Caleb’s line one night, wondering how he’s been. Little did you know, you were about to find out all about it and more.

tags: nsfw (mdni), gn!reader (no specific descriptors), teasing, banter, phone call (phone sex), swearing, dirty talk, (semi) guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, ejaculate

wc: 2.6k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: replaying through the early main story brought this about caleb i miss u sm

When the sun rises, the moon falls in perfect harmony. Such was the way of the world, but it doesn’t lift the heaviness lingering in your heart any further. Especially when that same sky separates you from someone you miss so, so dearly.

A dedicated fighter pilot of the Deepspace Aviation Administration, Caleb was away from Linkon City more often than not. 

Either having his nose buried in the paperwork or wings soaring through the skies—he always reassures that he was safe, all in one piece for you to inspect when he returns for a monthly visit. Still as tall as ever, as lovingly annoying as ever when he pretends to be hurt at a pinch to his arm. His laughs only grow in volume the longer you chastise him for it.

Caleb was the apple of your eye. And currently, the same apple plainly stares back at you through a phone screen. A pair of poorly drawn eyes and a lopsided smile overlaid the crisp, red apple beneath; it looked silly, befitting of the man who doodled it on. 

You wonder how he was doing—if he ate today, were the clouds kinder than the last storm he told you about. Taking a glance past your bedroom window provided you no semblance of an answer. The blanketed stratosphere was only a pitch black of night and stars littered about them plenty, neatly settled into the evening.

(Call him, you should call him.)

Your fingers hover above the button, room for second thoughts lost to time when you instinctively pressed down. Bringing it to your ear, the dial tone drones on, and so does your heart in wait.

He doesn’t answer on the first ring, and a feeling of unease curls into your gut. Far too soon to jump to conclusions and worst case scenarios, but what if… just, what if something was wrong? 

Your heart lodges itself into your throat when you press again, letting the ring dull your ears and become nothing but a monotonous doom. Again, and again. Your own worries are bound to eat you alive by the third ring. 

(Please pick up, please, please, please.)

Miraculously, the receiver crackled and a voice so warm greets you, albeit a bit… breathless. “Hey there. You’re still up?”

“Caleb,” you exhale, feeling relief wash over your nerves. Of course he was fine, you scared yourself over nothing. Straightening your back against the headboard, you return the phone to your ear and ask, “Are you okay? You don’t sound so good.”

Rustling could be heard from his end—laundry, maybe? And a faint snap catches your attention, especially when he only hisses and delays his response. 

“I’m—“ He clears his throat. “Yeah, all good. What’s up, pipsqueak?”

“Don’t ‘pipsqueak’ me, Caleb,” you say firmly. “Did you break a bone before picking up the phone?” The joke was light-hearted at best, though a hint of your concern faceted the same words.

“No,” he heartily laughs. Even the muffled receiver doesn’t conceal how lovely the sound is. “Sorry, I was just… preoccupied, before I saw your call.”

Your brow quirks at the odd phrasing, and you point out, “Doing what, exactly?” 

You pull back your phone to read the time, seeing it’s only a quarter past nine. There wasn’t much to do around this time of night, when the streets were quieter and people kept to themselves within their abodes.

“Stuff.” He off-handedly replies, doing the most to answer you indirectly. “Anyways, what’d you call me for? You’re not hurt or anything, are you?”

“Physically? No. Emotionally? Depends,” you answer. “But I’ll live.” Toying with the edge of your blanket, you add on, “Don’t change the subject, either. I can hear a liar when they come and go.”

“You never let me off easy,” Caleb muses, seemingly conceding to your observation. “Listen, pick a number, one or two, and I’ll tell you.”

“One and a half,” you snicker.

He sighs in disbelief. “That wasn’t an option at all.”

“It counts as both,” you reason with a shrug. “That way, you’ll tell me what’s up either way.”

Caleb doesn’t answer right away, seemingly pondering his response. A part of you feels guilty for finding a loophole to a simple play. “No pressure or anything, really. I was just,” you pause, puffing out a small sigh. “Wondering how you were doing today, that’s all.” 

Maybe a text message would’ve gone over better; that damn apple had a good reason for staring so stupidly at you on the screen. 

“I can hang up—“

“No,” he interjects, with some tone of urgency that has you stilling your fingers. “Wait, hold on. Don’t hang up just yet.” 

More shuffling could be heard on his side, before he softens his words and says, “Today was kinda slow, so I’m alright. Better actually, since you called.”

Ah, there was the answer to one of your questions. You can’t help but let out a small laugh, though appreciating his intent. “Caleb, that’s really cheesy.”

“You like cheesy things,” he points out, and you could practically see the grin on his face. “And it’s the truth. Dinner was fine too. Nothing exciting really happened, and y’know how they are at the DAA.” 

Secretive, though maybe it was for the best. You have asked him in the past, though met to no avail because of the very reason. Another checkbox to your wonders is met.

“I missed this,” you quietly admit, now pulling apart one of the frayed strings the blanket once had. “Hearing your voice.” And seeing you, though the unspoken words linger in your throat.

There was still some time before he was due to fly down into Linkon, yet every time felt longer than the last. To you, at least. It was the highlight of your month, knowing he would be around. Walking through Bloomshore together, pointing out sights you’re well-accustomed to, but enjoy every time because you’re with him. Sometimes, you’ll notice little things you miss along the way, and he’ll tease you about the finer things in life.

Caleb fondly returns your confession, as kind as ever. “I miss you too, silly.” A moment of comfortable silence passes, before he asks, “Isn’t it late? You should get some rest.”

You chew your lip, eyes wandering off to the night sky beyond cool glass. He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t ready to let him go just yet. And you still have another curiosity seeking its answer. “Stay on the line until I fall asleep?”

“I can never say no to you,” he says in acquiescence. You inwardly cheer at the victory. “But… Ah, could you give me like, five minutes?”

You hypothetical pom-poms pause their feathery shakes at his request. “For?” It isn’t that you are unwilling, but your curiosity only increases tenfold.

“I didn’t finish,” he mumbles, quick and low in its delivery. He was more so speaking to himself, but you caught the faint breath all the same.

“Finish what?” You question. “Caleb, I can’t hear you if you talk like that.”

“I was in the middle of a session,” Caleb quickly answers. “There, I said it. Now you know.”

Oh. A session. That was the last thing you were expecting to hear. The puzzle pieces finally make sense then—his breathless entrance, and shuffling that most definitely wasn’t laundry. Then, surely, the snap must have been, “Your underwear?” You finish your spoken train of thoughts in surprise.

“Way to put me on the spot,” he awkwardly chuckles, before clearing his throat once more. “Look, I’ll call you back once I’m done—“

“Stay,” you say. Though, it takes everything in you to speak without wavering to reveal the heat quickly budding in your body. You press your legs together instead, hoping the suppression would tame you some. “And let me hear it.”

Caleb nearly chokes on his saliva.

“You—You’re joking, right?”

“I didn’t stutter,” you tell him. “I’ll help you through it. After all, I’m the one who interrupted your precious alone time.”

“Okay,” he murmurs in thought. Then in acceptance, “Okay, fine. I’ll entertain you for now, but promise to sleep after.” 

“Promise.”

Even when it was concerning his manhood, he still had it in him to put your well-being into foremost consideration. How thoughtful. Sweet even, if it weren’t for the direly lewd context of the matter.

You didn’t have the patience for such kindness, chirping instructions of, “Great. So get to work, yeah? Carefully remove those boxers for me, first.”

“Roger that,” Caleb chuckles. You could make out the snap and slide of a waistband, fabric rustling to be likely thrown aside for tomorrow’s Caleb to deal with.

“Use your dominant hand,” you say, raising your own in thought. “And give yourself some nice, slow strokes from base to tip. Squeeze when you get to the head, just enough to get some pre out.”

“Ah, fuck.” You could hear a faint wetting of his lips before they produce a slick spit, surely coating his palm in preparation. He dutifully follows your words with a moan, and you bite down your own just so you could savor the sounds. 

“Talk to me Caleb,” you breathe out in turn. “How does it feel? Where are you right now?”

“My room, just me in here. Need—hah—more, but it’s so good,” he manages between breaths. “Would feel even better if you were here with me.”

“Mhm,” you confirm with a hum. “I bet you’d like that. The way my hands would wrap around your cock, pumping you the way you need.” 

He hisses through his teeth, more than pleased at the idea. “You’d look so pretty doing it too.”

You find yourself salivating, fingers itching at the ghosting feeling of such illusory warmth. You wet your lips, your own hands slowly creeping towards the warmth between your legs and past the blanket. It was instinctual, though you couldn’t hide your gasp in time and Caleb snickers.

“Oh? Was that what I think it was?”

You could map out his cheshire grin from the question alone, though you didn't have it in you to deny him. “Not my fault you sound so hot like this,” you sigh, pressing the pads of your fingers in a slow rub. “Thinking about you right now has me all worked up.”

“What, you think about me when you touch yourself?”

The answer is as clear as a cloudless day in Linkon, and a sense of want seeps into your voice. “Can’t help it,” you nearly whine. “Happens ‘cause you’re gone so much.”

“Fuck,” Caleb curses. “Me too, trust me. I’ll be home soon,” he promises, though it fades off into a quiet grunt and strained sighs. “Soon, I’ll be there and you can have me in any way you need me.” 

You pray that eventuality becomes your near reality by the time morning comes, even if it was an impossible dream. “You can go faster,” you encourage, increasing your own touches against clothed skin. “Do what you need, I’m right here.”

A slight clunk draws you from the lust hazing your thoughts, a pin of concern dropping into your mind. You ask, “Caleb? You okay over there?”

“Phone was in the way,” he says hurriedly. “Speaker’s on, I need both hands.”

Much to your delight, the audio becomes clearer through the speaker as a result. The slaps of skin every time his hand moves up and down his length, to the faint slick of lubed saliva messily enhancing his strokes—they were all there. But the prettiest sounds of all were the gravelly groans stemming from his throat in perfect harmony.

You think about how his abdomen would contract with every breath, the way his brows knit together in concentration. The luminous glow of his amethyst eyes, their sparkle now overlaid in clouds of unadulterated want. The shapes of his lips when he smiles so sweetly to creating the desperate moans you’ve endeared yourself to the entire call. You miss him, and it hurts.

And how much you crave to hold that image between your fingers, instead of needlessly curling and pressing around the fabrics of clothes and their cotton. Your thighs squeeze instinctively with a particularly drawn out moan from the receiver.

Caleb’s voice lowly calls out to you. “Do you hear it? How my cock aches for you?” As if you weren’t lasered in on the very noises this whole time, only growing feverishly with every pump.

You mewl at his cadence. “I do, oh I do. What I would give to have that cock all for myself, hot and heavy and mine.”

“It’s a shame.” His breaths grew increasingly shallow with every word punched out. “You won’t get to enjoy all this cum I’m about to—haah—give, such a shame.”

Your hands shake, closer to the brink than you once thought. “A-ah, you’re not wrong—!” You fall back against the headboard, shoulders sinking in and legs shifting in ardent need. 

“Caleb, are you, please tell me you’re—“

“Close?” He pants, arousal embedded into every breath. “Oh, I have been. Practically leaking and waiting for you to tell me when you want to come.”

Your mind dizzies, his voice the perfect charm that pushes you to the edge of release. “Do it now, please, please, please.” Babbles of direction and your pleasure blur together, unable to hold back and with the trembling of your muscles. “Wanna hear you come for me,” you gently cry out, fingertips circling faster over your surely ruined undergarments. “I’m about to—mmh!”

“Coming for you,” Caleb bites out, relentlessly keeping his pace over his sensitive cock. “Fuck, fuck. So much, it’s a mess, ah fuck.”

Your name draws out into a long and decadent moan when he releases, burning into the phone’s static and shooting straight to your heart. The melody sends you spiraling into a wave of bliss, coming undone with just haphazard touches and the vision of his creamy release painting his hands white.

His panting and your own begin to even out in the following silence. Clarity wipes at your muddled thoughts, though Caleb was the first to speak up.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You meet him with the same tone, a small laugh to your calling. “Hi.”

“Feeling alright?”

“Mm. More importantly, are you good?”

Caleb’s chipper reply gives you confirmation. “I’m pretty sure you heard me a few minutes ago.” Another rustle and creak later, you hear his footsteps padding his words. “Need to clean up. You should too, right? Surely it’s not comfortable to be in soaked underwear before bed.”

You gasp, feeling exposed and instinctively pull at your blanket. A poor shield at the moment, if anything. “How did you know I kept them on?”

“I didn’t,” he plainly says. “But now I know.” You could hear him smirking in glee, only growing further when you bemoan the circumstances.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want, I’m changing out of them.” You slide off of the bed, shuffling footsteps towards your dresser. Out with the old to the laundry basket and in with the new, you return to the pillows and exhale.

“In bed now?” Caleb asks. He lets out a soft laugh when all you do is grumble a response. “Alright. Promise is a promise, I’ll stay on call until you really hit the hay.”

“M’kay,” you mumble through pursed lips, before bringing the screen to them and planting a soft kiss. 

You don’t recall much of what happened afterwards. Only your hushed whispers and Caleb’s gentle voice going on about aviation and work mishaps fill your lingering consciousness. Soon enough, it lulls you into a dream of clouds, where bright eyes of amethyst awaited you with open arms.

[merakiui]

it’s my first time ordering for lunar love hotel 🥺🥺🥺 i’m not sure if i’m doing it right but i’d like to order a flower bouquet with chamomile tea and lemon squares from the midnight menu and a fruit smoothie from the morning menu for ceo azul and afab reader (maybe either his secretary or just an employee working under him, whichever you prefer!)

thank u so much! 🥰

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, obsession, power imbalance, abuse of authority, mention of pregnancy, implied alcohol use/inebriation, ceo!azul, secretary!reader note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

You wake to a dull pressure between your legs, roused from dead, dreamless slumber like a reanimated corpse. Groggily, you blink bleariness away and search through the dimming light for the body propped up above you. Your fingers, clumsy and numb, brush against his chest, climbing up to drag across his collarbone and, ultimately, reaching his face. He’s without his glasses; twin pools of the deepest sapphire flick over your form, assessing the state of your sentience.

“Mmh… Mr. A-Ashengrotto?” you mumble, still so out of it. His hips stutter to a halt. Your eyes shut once more, and this time he takes care to move slower. Softer. You arch up into his touch, breathing heavy. “Ooh…”

What happened? How did you get here? If your spotty memory is to be trusted, you arrived late to the company party, got into a drinking competition with Floyd Leech, and stumbled out into the chilly night, hanging onto the arm of the one and only CEO of Mostro. Your benevolent boss—Azul Ashengrotto.

And now here you are, lying beneath him on a plush bed, your legs wrapped limply around his waist while he rocks into you with a gentleness rivaling that of the smoothest sea. Just beyond the rain-spattered windows, a gloomy cityscape sprawls. You’re not sure where you are or what floor you’re on. Exhausted, your mind a muddled wreck, you force your eyes open.

“Mr. Ashengrotto, what are you…” You swallow dryly. Hangover sticks to you like wet socks on soles. “What’re you doing?”

The hand that had been previously rubbing circles into your hip slides away to grasp at your breast. He rolls your perky nipple between two fingers, marveling at the way it sinks in when he presses down. It springs back with ease, still just as pebbled as before.

“You should know—” he starts, only to break off with a low moan— “that it’s impossible to out-drink Floyd.”

“No… No, that’s not—” You suck in a shaky breath through your teeth. His cock curves up inside you, hitting all the right places. “Can’t… We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?”

“Not right and—it’s wrong… You’re my boss and it’s not…gonna look good.”

“My dear, is that all you ever think of? Even now, your mind is on work. Won’t you relax?”

“Because…” You squirm beneath him, deeply unsettled and yet unable to phrase your protests in sharper terms. “Mr. Ashengrotto—”

“Azul,” he murmurs, running his knuckles over your cheek. Sickeningly fond, he has the gall to smile at you like an angel. “It would make me happy if you called me that in private.”

You try to shake your head. “I can’t—”

“We offer paid maternity leave,” he reminds you, punctuating that point with a sharp, sudden thrust. Your legs tighten around him out of some bodily instinct.

“Don’t want that,” you babble, grabbing at his shoulders. “Don’t want a baby. I can’t—need money to live. It’s expensive… Please, Mr. Ashengrotto…”

He tuts, a frown flickering on his handsome face. “You look so tired. Rest, my dear. I’m here for you.”

Azul lifts you from the bed, angling his hips down to ensure his seed will find its rightful home in snug, gummy depths. He’s borderlining the edge of the end, teetering on a pleasurable precipice. You feel yourself falling. In spite of everything—the situation and the intention in every thrust—it feels good. Mindless. Intrinsic. Strangely meant to be.

“You work so hard on my behalf. Such a diligent secretary, always knowing just what I want when I need it.” Azul takes your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You shiver at the contact—whether in revulsion or reverence, he can’t say. “Ah, but your eating habits are abysmal. You work late and arrive early. You come into the office on the verge of death, and then you lie to my face when I ask if all is well.” He peers down at you, eyes shimmering with an odd emotion. “Why do you run from me, my dear?”

“A-Azu—ooh… Azul…”

“Was that so difficult? My name isn’t a mouthful. If you say it enough, it may stick permanently. Mrs. (Name) Ashengrotto—what a precious title. So musical.”

You follow his hand as it moves to press down against your stomach. You can’t be with him. He’s your boss and you’re his secretary. It wouldn’t look right. The rumors that would spread… You couldn’t handle that sort of pressure—of having all eyes glued to your figure whenever you walk into a room.

“I wanna go home…”

“You are home.”

“My home.”

His expression sours. “I wouldn’t call that hovel a home.”

Your head falls back against the pillows. What’s the point in debating? Sleep claws at you, dragging you back with greedy fingers. Bile rises in your throat, so you swallow it down. You have to say something. You can’t let him have his way. You can’t be a mother. Not now. You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

But it’s so easy to float along and succumb. It’s so easy to be lazy. It’s so easy to agree. It’s what your boss wants. As his dutiful secretary, you must listen and do just as he asks.

“Get some sleep. You need it. I’ll be here when you wake.”

You don’t intend to, but your eyes fall shut. His voice is soothing like the sweetest song. With your consciousness now waning, you slip away just as he bottoms out and releases with a groan. Your insides are flooded with cum, but that’s the last thing you concern yourself with. It’s what he says next that follows you into your dreams. An ominous omen. A confession.

“I love you, (Name)… And soon—quite soon—you’ll love me, too.”

[hypernova-writes]

Kinktober Day 22

[Voice Kink - Engineer]

"You like how I sound darl'?.."

You could sit and listen to Engineer all day long, his syrupy southern drawl had you paying attention even when he was just rambling about something you knew nothing about.

You were currently sitting next to him as he worked on something, he was rambling away about the invention and you were just looking at him with dreamy eyes.

Engineer looked over and chuckled at your lovey dovey look. "You still there Suga'? Hope I'm not borin' you.."

You sigh before sitting up straight, "oh no, you're fine...I like listening to your voice.." You admit as you feel your cheeks slowly start to heat up. He leans close to you and tilts his head.

"You like...my voice?" It was Engineer's turn to turn a tomato red before he smirks softly. He backs up a bit.

"Yea! Your voice is like honey!." You admit, as you look away, rubbing the back of your neck. "You could talk a gals clothes off."

Engineer raises an eyebrow, now turning in his chair to look fully at you?

"Oh yea? Is it sweet enough to make a purty gal like you fall for lil ol' me?"

You giggle as you squeeze your legs together, you look at him. "U-um...well y-yea.."

Engineer stands up, and so do you, he walks toward you, and you take a step back, this continued until you were backed up against his desk, and Engineer quickly makes work of the stuff on it.

"Go on and hop up, sweet thang...Let ol' Dell take care of ya.."

You quickly obey and hop up on his desk, allowing him to spread your legs with ease, raising up the pretty grey skirt you were wearing.

"I wonde' how long you've been wantin' me, every phrase I say..got you wetter than a pool in rainstorm aint it?.."

You whimper as Engineer hooks his fingers around your panties, pulling them all the way down till they were dangling from one of your ankles.

You lock eyes with him as he pulls his glove off with his teeth, he makes sure you are watching him, raising two of his fingers to your lips.

"Be a good girl for me and suck."

You whimper as you take his two fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Engineer watches with a small smirk as he palms himself through his overalls.

He groans softly as he watched you, slowly taking his fingers from your mouth and watches as a trail of saliva connects your tongue to his digits.

"Aint you just a sight for sore eyes like this..I haven't even touched ya yet and you're already a panting mess for me.."

You jolt as you feel him press the same two fingers that you just had in your mouth against your folds.

"Gods you're so wet already, just from my voice?..Such a naughty lil thang you are for me.." He mumbles as he pushed the two fingers inside of you, you gasped out as you squirmed, moaning softly as he sets a steady pace.

Engineer kept his eyes on your face as he picked up the pace, finger fucking you so good that you were starting to see stars. You could barely form a sentence and that makes him chuckle.

"Feel's good don't it..Feelin' daddys fingers all up in your pretty little cunt." "You can be as loud as you want suga' aint no one gon' bother us.." "God i can feel you clenching 'round me..are you gonna cum?..My words gettin' you closer?"

You could barely get your words together, so you just nod frantically as you buck your hips against his hand. Engineer chuckles as he raises his hand up to your chin, keeping eyecontact with him.

"Go ahead and cum, Sweetheart."

You cry out as your eyes rolled back from the intense pleasure you felt, you whine as you lean your head back.

Engineer chuckles as he slowly takes his fingers out.

Your eyes were closed as you tried to regain yourself from your orgasm, but you hear to soft sound of him undoing his overalls, making you open your eyes and blush.

"Lean back for me Darl', we aint finished yet..~"

[drivestraight]

anatomy of a joke, AKA "oscar's six-year long con ruined by a dutch sim racer," my commentary

first things first: section titles.

originally the section titles were going to be like, "the set-up" "misdirection" "assumptions" "the inciting incident" "misdirection revisited" "assumptions revisited" etc. but then i think that that definitive structure was limiting me so i instead pulled some of my favorite phrases from infinite jest... which i'm only like 1/5 way through haha. but ANYWAY YEAH! i tried to match the vibes of the section with each header.

the vignette-ish style of the fic, which is something i don't really do/am not used to, is framed by these little section titles, and i think it kind of helps set the tone for each section.

/

the place where things break down

aka, where it all starts

imagine being drunk off your face at a club and you accidentally stumble into the darkrooms without realizing they're the darkrooms and u see your teammate pressed up against his friend's side as the friend is very obviously giving him a handjob under the table. imagine that.

but, yeah. the first threesome offer that max extends. and a sort of introduction to whatever the hell the sexual dynamic between norstappen is. re: max initiating things, and lando going along with it no matter what it is. and also their exhibitionism kinks...

/

that most angelic of distortions

assumptions, introduced

i think it was really important to put the first scene into context. norstappen aren't dating, lando's on raya, and max is happily with kelly. kind of important in that it makes oscar question if he really saw what he thought he saw

/

like chess on the run, beautiful and infinitely dense

misdirection, landoscar flirting, but max being present. "infinitely dense" aka oscar being dense throughout this whole thing man

from the "not my fault you're so small" to "flirting with me, piastri?" and "you like how i'm smaller than you" to "think you like it, mate," i wanted to set up the flirty landoscar vibe but in a way that's like - toeing the line, almost too casual to be something real. and then, of course, max comes in, interrupts, and oscar's stomach drops. i think this is the first allusion to oscar's feelings. i wanted to keep it, at this point, as vague as possible. he doesn't address any of his feelings until much later in the fic, but the descriptions: oscar's gaze constantly straying, looking at lando's neck, his sweat, his frame, how he smells, the moles on his face, etc. and how he reacts and gets a bit prickly when max comes in... yeah that's the stuff.

and the whole. max being so physical and taking up the space. and his "i dont mind sharing"... and oscar pulling away. Crazy stuff man.

also lando is chewing gum here... important... i'll explain at the end...

/

something bigger than the self

an interlude

this section kind of stands out but i think it's thematically probably the most important section. it's the clearest, in my opinion, way to understand what's going on.

the whole mclaren / oscar / lando discussion, about mark telling oscar he needs to start fighting for equal treatment, to be smart about it is a parallel to the lando / oscar / max dynamic of the whole fic. don't be soft. they'll eat you alive. oscar wants it (to win with mclaren, to have lando) so badly, but he puts on this air of not caring, when he deeply, deeply cares. mostly out of self preservation, and because he thinks that if he lets people know how much he wants it, he'll end up losing it. it's better to not make an idiot of yourself trying, than to try and fail. he rationalizes the decision with the upgrades too much, and mark reads that as him letting mclaren/lando walk all over him. whether that's true or not, well.

/

the self you cannot live without

the inciting incident

classic carlos. bathroom handies. not much to say here.

/

reducing chaos into pattern

oscar's rationalization

this is where it starts to get a bit more complicated.

“Just good fun,” Lando says, shrugging casually. His voice betrays him. So does the flush on his cheeks. “Like, after races, and stuff.” “Yeah?” Oscar asks. “All it is?” Lando purses his mouth. “All it is,” he repeats. “We’re friends.” Oscar breathes out a sigh. “Friends, right,” he says stiffly.

and then, lando saying that he and oscar are friends too. it's a really tense section, of oscar not saying any of the things he really means, and lando being vague and weird and sort of in denial about what's happening

Oscar thinks about how good their car is this year, especially after the upgrades; how it’s better than the simulations projected; how it’s better than the RB20; how Lando could have won today, but didn’t. Thinks about Max’s rough hand squeezing the back of Lando’s neck in Melbourne; thinks about his palm covering Lando’s mouth in Miami; thinks about how Lando met his eyes and came all over his stomach; thinks about how he instantly called an Uber back to the Hilton and shoved a hand down his trousers before he’d even managed to get the door locked behind him; thinks about Max saying he doesn’t mind sharing. Thinks about Mark telling him to fight for equal treatment. He thinks about Mark telling him to be smart.

oscar thinks... he is a thinker... but yeah after miami he literally just went home and jerked off and felt horrible about it all.

/

that kind of animal grace

intimacy from the outside looking in

obligatory jimmy'z moment. norstappen shotgunning hookah in the most strangely intimate way, as oscar voyeuristically watches, and hates what he sees.

They’re both wearing matching black hats, but Max’s is on backwards. He breathes out a cloud of smoke, and then dips down until his mouth hovers next to Lando’s ear. Lando throws his head back, shoulders rising and trembling. Oscar catches the crinkled crow skin around his eyes and wonders what Max said to make Lando laugh like that. The lights are epileptic as the beat accelerates, punching, synths shrill, ear-grating tremors. The crowd is animated and frantic all around him. Oscar feels deep underwater, heart muffled but startlingly vivid in his ears. He feels frayed, pulled apart, in pieces, fragmented.

he has a cwush... but still at this point, i made sure not to ever, like, say it obviously. just aiming to show oscar's feelings through what he pays attention to, and his physical reactions. he sees them there, and it's probably even worse than what he saw in miami. it doesn't just seem to be something physical, doesn't just seem to be good fun or casual. but if it was just good fun and something casual - it's like, he knows that he couldn't do that. couldn't give lando what he wants, if that's what he wants.

/

that kind of brutish no-care

oscar is pulled in

oscar mr i hate clubbing goes to afterparty and afterparty for reasons that totally have nothing to do with norstappen, of course.

more landoscar flirting! max being flippant about what happened in miami. it's all just good fun to him. he finds it funny, what happened. and then there's the really casual sort of assertiveness when he pats the seat for oscar to sit, tells lando to sit in oscar's lap, and lando does. but lando hesitates. i think it's up to the reader to decide why lando hesitates, but the version i like the most is that oscar isn't just someone he can make a joke out of/he doesn't want to cross some sort of line/make oscar uncomfortable. but max told him to, so he does. i think, maybe, lando is a little bit aware of how oscar feels about him, but it's, again, something that he's not addressing. and he isn't even sure if oscar's into guys, at this moment.

purposeful attention and measured no-care. norstappen can get WEIRD. they're playing a weird little game with oscar, and oscar is the butt of the joke. talking to each other while he's there, but not a part of it. max is nowhere near as emotionally involved as the other two, but there are little moments of possessiveness, reasserting who he is to lando in front of oscar, especially with the hand on his hip at the end. a casual sort of power play, if you want to read it like that.

and the pouring liquor into lando's mouth, and lando just taking it. they are them... max is just very clearly vying for a threesome but oscar just is not biting.

/

to disappear inside the game

the offer

okay a big part about this setting is that. i wanted to be somewhere that wasn't a club 😭 but it also was a good opportunity for them to have a proper talk. another mention of kelly and p was important, again, to bring us back into context of max's situation. really, what's going on with him and lando isn't at the centre of his life. not at all.

meanwhile: tender ankle touches, DTS watch, oscar making fun of how small lando was, and then - lando offering a blowie... because they're frens... max says he's good with his mouth... and then oscar making it all weird. "max doesn't own me" "you sure?" for the millionth time, oscar is shooting himself in the foot. as much as he wishes it didn't, it comes back to max.

also:

“Wasn’t what I was asking,” Lando says. “Was asking you if you think it’s weird.” And Oscar knows that. All this time, he has wanted to scream, Yes, it’s weird. He has a girlfriend and you’re trying to steal a championship from him and I see you, I see you after all the races you finish second to him, beating yourself up and talking yourself down, while he just smiles and grabs you by the shoulder and shakes you around and you let him, you let him do whatever he wants to you, and I understand you’re friends, I understand that you mean something to him and he means something to you, but I cannot understand it, I cannot understand what you’re doing, and whenever I see you two together, I think to myself, There’s no way this can end well. Someone will get hurt. “I think it’s fine,” Oscar says. “You guys are friends.”

this is the first time we get any real, internal address of how oscar is feeling about everything. until now, (at least the narration would hopefully have you think), it was mostly just - him going along with everything, being uncomfortable about a lot of things, but never really expressing why, or any of the internalization of it. it bothered him, but only ever displayed in physical descriptions. here, we see just how much the entire situation frustrates him, and this is where things really start to go off the rails. someone gets hurt.

/

a toast to our knowledge of bodies

austria my beloved.

this is the switching point, of course. the logic is that: max is out of the picture. for the first time, lando and max (seemingly) aren't friends, and for the first time, oscar finds space for himself to be close to lando, without max there (kind of funny though because in the end, it all happens Because of max).

Lando just continues, miserably, to rant about how Max was moving under braking, how he was being stupid and reckless, how he ruined everything for the both of them, and Oscar gets the feeling that this isn’t just about the racing. 

there's the whole lando and max of it all, which i think is, obviously because the fic is from oscar's POV, the most unclear dynamic of it all. oscar isn't sure what it actually is between them, if it really is just casual, but there are moments, like in monaco, where there's intimacy, and there are moments, like in austria, where it feels like it's more than the racing, that oscar questions things. i think it's better when it's unclear, and you have to come to your own conclusions.

I knew it, he wants to say. I knew that something like this would happen and you’d be a wreck about it and it’d matter more to you than it does to him and you’d break your own heart over something you should’ve let go of a long time ago.

bro doesn't know he's talking about himself

/

the body betrays you

rubicons...

i mean. i think what's going on here is pretty clear. oscar likes lando, a lot. lando wants someone to be mean to him, cruel and dismissive, and oscar can only do that to an extent.

/

a kind of love, with artful care

oscar's feelings, revisited

FINALLY. i really wanted a scene like this that showed and didn't tell, but showed really clearly what oscar hasn't been addressing this whole time: since he was seventeen, he's kind of sort of had this flame for lando. maybe it didn't take root for real until they became teammates, but it was still there, a little seedling for 6 years. there's something about lando that makes you care. oscar has cared, for 6 years, and even in their first meeting, which he remembers and lando doesn't, he took care of him. if the extent of oscar's feelings were unclear before this, hopefully this section was like loud alarm sirens lmao.

/

the judgement and punishing fall

the comedown...

“We don’t—” Lando says, mouth opening and closing rapidly, the physical not caught up to the mental. Oscar doesn’t know what’s going through his head right now. He’s kind of afraid to find out. “Like, we don’t have to talk about it.” “Lando,” Oscar repeats, feeling frozen. He feels like an idiot, sitting with his dick out in the wet spot where Lando came, the car spinning out from under him, a passenger. “It was just good fun, right?” Lando asks, with a shaking smile. He’s never looked so small. “That’s all it ever is.”

this is about norstappen. their dynamic is difficult for me to just, like, outright say what it is, but these little things help give it some shape. it's just good fun, that's all it ever is.

you could also read this as lando being frightened by the care that oscar showed him, and running away, because it felt like it meant so much. because it was too much, etc. the more i try to explain what's happening here, i feel like it starts to lose its magic but. it's all there, and you can read whatever you'd like between the lines.

/

the religion of the physical

the comedown, cont.

mostly just a transitionary section. it's like it never happened. <3

/

worshipper at the temple

the reckoning

Max is smiling at him, and Oscar thinks about how he and Lando made up the day after Austria. Oscar saw the headlines all over social media, how Lando had texted Max early in the morning to sort things out, how they’re friends again. Always friends. How they’ll keep racing, hard.

the scenes when oscar realized that lando fled from his hotel room after they had sex and stayed up for hours drafting a text to max. like he's going fucking THROUGH it. and it's made worse. when max tells him that lando told him what happened. "how was he? was he good?" max might be the worst person in the world 💀 but it's another, like, show of possession. "you can have him, if you want" aka. i'll let you have him. he's mine to give.

“For what it is worth,” Max eventually says, “I think he likes you too.”

maybe this is true. i'm not sure if it's worth anything, at this moment in time.

and. mwahaha. max is chewing gum. lando was chewing gum at the start of the scene. i wonder if it's the same piece of gum. wouldn't that be gross and crazy.

“Have a lovely night, Oscar,” Max says, finally making to leave. But before Oscar can let out a breath of relief, he pauses, turning back around on his heels to add, “Oh, by the way, my offer is of course still open, if you ever change your mind.”

bro who is still vying for a threesome even after all of that 💀

/

okay. yeah. WOW! what a fic. hope you guys enjoyed it & my commentary, if you got this far.

[27daisuki]

Hello again! I recently added subs to the dmmd stage plays (except Ren's! i do not take credit for that). Originally i only had 4 routes, but I received Mink's and ViTri's routes and just finished subbing! (thank you @minkiemoo for sending them to me!!)

They're all updated on the same Google drive that i posted before but I'll repost it here

I hope you all enjoy!! please let me know if I missed anything or if it's not working (I didn't finish subbing the post credit conversations but i wanted to get the rest of the play out there first)

translators notes and general thoughts below if u care

Woo!!!! I'm so happy i got to watch all the routes and I'm very happy to make it easier to consume for English speakers! the game blew up in 2014 on tumblr from a fan translation iirc? so I think it's only fair that I do my part now that I'm at a level of fluency where I can do that too! my goal since i was a kid to be able to watch/play things in jp without subs or translation, and i think i only recently realized i can do that now lol

it has been a very long time since I started learning jpn (i believe in total it has been 18 years on and off 💀 god) and i just wasn't confident in my skills but when i was watching Ren's route (it was the only one available overseas without vpn shit and had subs) and no shade to whoever had to sub Ren's route but i noticed some subs were just straight up wrong? (there's a part where aoba is looking at a screen at toue's speech and it was just all wrong) so i think that coupled with having friends that also like dmmd and wanted to watch the other routes inspired me to do my own damn subs lmao 😂

I'm absolutely not saying my subs are perfect, I'm sure there are spots that aren't 100% accurate (mostly because i can't 100% hear exactly what syllables they're saying sometimes because they talk so fast or just the audio quality or mumbling lol noiz I'm looking at you), but if i was unsure at any point I'd cross check the game lol if anyone notices any point where my subs are inaccurate, please let me know! i take no offense and honestly would love to be corrected so i can know for the future

also lastly, i did wanna touch on my strategy for subbing! jpn and English don't translate very well to each other all the time so there are some things that are said in jp that if i wrote literally in English would feel awkward or be hard to understand, so for some dialogue i tried to convey what they were saying with phrases that would make more sense to an English reader. So if you hear some sentences/words and you're like, wait that's not 100% exactly what they said, there's a good chance I know and i made the choice to translate it differently. it can be really hard to know when to leave something literally translated and when to localize it, or how far you should change the wording even if you keep the important information in a sentence, and which words i can leave out because of how fast they talk😭

jpn is also a very context heavy language, which means they leave out words in a sentence because it's implied that they're still in the sentence but you're supposed to fill them in. so there are many times where it sounds like in jp, they say 2 words, but it could really actually be like 6 because they're assuming you filled in the other 4 words. English you can only really get away with so much not said, and it can feel a bit weird when u read 6 words on the screen but hear the actors say 2 words lmao but just trust me on this, i promise I'm not adding words outta no where😂

one example: when Mizuki is holding a knife to Tae, he says 後悔すんなよ which literally means "don't regret this", but with the full context he's saying something close to "don't regret this because it's gonna be your fault your grandma dies" which obviously is a lot more than what he said and I can't write all that on the screen for 2 seconds. The best equivalent to this (imo) was too write "You'll regret this", because even though it's not what he said in jp, it still gets the point across to english speakers and eng speakers can fill in the blank that he'll regret this because he didn't take Mizuki's threats seriously. It's less words and it's easier to digest in the few seconds that you have to read the sub

anyway i just want it to be known that i put a lot of care into these subs and thought very hard about how I translated each sentence, so i hope that you can trust my work!

Thank you again for all the kind words! I hope you enjoy the plays!!

[cyyfics]

You made a post asking for silly/dumb requests to do while stoned, I think I got one; Simon and/or Winter King x Memelord reader! I just gotta know what these old men would do in the face of a big chungus or skibidi toilet being spammed at them. Would they like among us? Also, your writing is good and I hope you have a nice day, and if is not the type of silly you were looking for, I totally understand.

—————

Meme lord Hc’s

Pairing: Simon X Winter King X Reader (seperate)

Collection: the stones series

Note: hello this is my time to shine 💅

If u guys dunno this is a um thing where I write silly things when I smoke

- these r a bit short sorry guys I cannot I cannot uhm function properly at the moment teehee

- also this isn’t rly aj x reader like it’s not romantic at all but idk idc

————

Simon

- he is so confused with literally everything you are saying. “What is Among us??” He is so elderly that ur jokes could easily kill him.

- so, he does not like among us. He does not understand it at all.

- which you believe makes him ‘sus’, simon doesn’t understand that either. How does him not understanding something make him suspicious??

- he looks at you with concern and confusion everytime you say something weird, one time he heard you talking about a ‘skibbidi toilet’ and thought you wanted him to buy you one or smth

- he looked online. Almost died. He’s so fucking old, he didn’t understand none of it.

- has tried to take the internet away from you. In response, you get worse with it.

- “Simon, make me girl dinner.” ??? Simon is so confused “girl.. dinner? So like normal dinner??” You stress this man out. “No.”

Winter King

- he likes it, finds you to be quirky and interesting. Although, he still doesn’t understand you. But he’s supporting at least

- “girl dinner. Now.” You demand “coming right up!” And then he proceeds to not serve you girl dinner and you scoff at him.

- “what do you mean the dinner is sus??”

- I don’t think he likes among us. He doesn’t understand it. He knows you like it though, but he doesn’t agree with your choices.

- he tries to use your memes and phrases, gets them wrong every time. “It’s giving.” Winter king said as he passed you “giving what.”

- he doesn’t even know. You tell him.

[kiss-me-cill-me]

could u write a cill character where the reader is super horny w/ baby fever, a breeding type fic ❤️?? I love your works btw!!

Oh anon, I love you for requesting this ❤️ Partly because I had already planned to write it lmao. And thank you so much!! Sending love right back at ya 🥰

Due Date

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Your boyfriend is totally oblivious to your baby fever, but lucky for both of you, you aren't able to keep it bottled up for too long.

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, floor sex, stomach pressing (?? idk how to even phrase this lol), mentions of reader being on birth control, some fluff, established boyfriend/girlfriend relationship

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

There had been only one thing on your mind for weeks now, and you could not figure out for the life of you how to get rid of the thoughts. You wondered if you would ever feel normal again, or if this was just going to be your new default state forever. The idea of that was maddening.

Neil, on the other hand, seemed to be somehow blissfully unaware about just how badly you felt like you might explode every time Marcia and Buddy came around with their new baby. 

You weren’t sure how that was possible, given that you practically sprinted over to the stroller every time they wrangled it into the store. How could he not have known, when you squealed for the hundredth time, every time, at seeing that chubby little baby face? Marcia had practically needed to wrestle her own child away from you the last time they’d paid a visit, and yet Neil seemed totally unaware of how badly you wanted one of your own.

Or maybe he just hoped that if he ignored it, your baby fever would go away. Your boyfriend had never exactly been one to take on responsibilities willingly, unless doing so somehow involved Gumshoe. The store was his baby, as he often joked, and you were starting to worry that that meant he would never have room in his heart for real babies. The kind that would giggle at Neil’s silly antics and look up at you with their big blue eyes, just like his, and-

You snapped back to reality. You had been daydreaming again, and you found yourself standing behind the counter with Neil, your finger stuck into the spool of a VHS tape as you worked at rewinding a stack of them together.

“You okay, babe?” he asked, sparing a glance in your direction.

You’d paused in your mindless task, lost in fantasy, and now you tried to shake off the fog that had crept over you, bringing with it the images of cribs and onesies and bouncing bundles that always seemed to end up in Neil’s arms. 

“Uh…”

He would make such a good dad. A fun dad; the kind that would take his kids on adventures themed after all of their favorite movies. Lightsaber battles in the kitchen. Quests for treasure in the backyard that would make Indiana Jones quake in his boots. Neil would have just as much fun as your future children - you were sure of it. And that thought was almost enough to make you jump him right there in the store. It was pure torture, living like this, and for days on end.

“Helloooooo?” Neil droned.

You looked over at him with wide eyes as he caught you indulging in your secret fantasies yet again.

“You… good?” he asked again, slightly concerned this time.

“I am; I’m… just a little distracted,” you said, hurrying to get back to rewinding the tape.

Neil stuffed the cassette he was holding back in its box, giving you a smug look.

“Yeah, I do have that effect on you, don’t I?” he teased.

You shoved him, and he nudged you back with an elbow.

“In your dreams,” you laughed.

Privately, you could feel yourself starting to ache at just his words. He had no clue how true they were, and you certainly weren’t about to tell him. Now really wasn’t the time for a baby; your logical side knew that. And as much as a part of you wanted to tell him, you knew that it wouldn’t make any real difference. You would just have to be patient and wait.

“Thanks for helping out tonight, by the way,” Neil continued, slipping back into the easy routine of rewinding tapes. “I hate doing this.”

“I know; me too,” you agreed. “Which is why I expect to be paid overtime.”

Neil looked at you, side-eyed.

“Do you even work here?” he joked.

“Not for long if I don’t start getting paid.”

“Okay, fine,” Neil sighed. “The usual rate?”

You giggled as he put his tape down and pinned you against the edge of the counter, pressing your bodies together as he kissed you. A series of quick, fleeting pecks; your hourly wage for helping him out.

“Hey! Overtime,” you reminded him, grabbing at the hem of his shirt as he started to pull away.

Neil leaned back over and gave you one more kiss, catching your bottom lip with his teeth.

Just then, the bell at the top of the door rang, letting you know that a customer had arrived. Neil stood up straight, clearing his throat in a very professional manner as he backed up a little. Even with distance between you, you still felt your whole body thrum. The heat on your cheeks seemed to burst as the lone customer wandered the store, browsing the aisles as you and Neil stood side by side and rewound more tapes.

“All set?” Neil chirped up as the man approached the counter. 

Neil went through the routine of checking out the tape, finally handing it over along with a receipt. He glanced down at the date that was printed on the slip.

“And you’re all set. Due date is… August fifteenth.”

Behind him, you made a small noise in your throat. Neil looked over at you, just for a moment, before he turned back to the customer and finished wrapping up the transaction. When the man had left, Neil turned more fully to face you.

“You’re acting weird, babe,” he said bluntly, scratching the back of his head. “Is there something going on?”

“Nope, never better!”

You cursed yourself silently. Why had something so stupidly simple as Neil saying the words “due date” lodged itself firmly into your brain as yet another excuse to obsess over babies? 

“If you need to go home, that’s okay,” Neil offered. “I can wrap things up here by myself.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “It’s just…”

“Just…?” Neil echoed, leaning toward you.

“Hearing you talk about… due dates,” you sighed, finally admitting defeat.

Neil’s look of utter and genuine confusion would have made you laugh out loud, if not for the fact that you felt compelled to burrow down into the floor.

“Should I not… tell the customers when to return tapes?”

“No, you dummy!” You avoided his eyes as you shuffled uncomfortably. “I just mean that- It just makes me think about babies!”

You could see the gears turning in Neil’s head a few seconds after you’d blurted out your confession, slowly reaching a conclusion before his eyes widened.

“Ohhhh. That’s why you’ve been so interested in hanging out with Marcia,” he laughed.

“Yes! Neil - okay?” you cried, thoroughly embarrassed. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, and I just- Ugh!”

You threw your hands up as you abandoned all attempts at explaining yourself. Neil was already throwing you glances, as if he had caught you in the middle of something scandalous, instead of just struggling to suppress baby fever. 

In a way, though, he had. Your thoughts really weren’t all so pure as just picturing him with your kids at the park. Babies didn’t just drop down out of the sky, after all.

Neil took a small step toward you, making you shrink back as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“You like the thought of me knocking you up?” he hummed.

The shock of him saying it so bluntly made you shrink into yourself a bit more. Neil wasn’t letting you go anywhere, though, as he placed his arms to either side of your hips, leaning against the counter.

“Maybe I just think you’d be a good dad,” you shot back, slightly too shakily to be believable.

“Mmm, I don’t think that that’s all you’ve been thinking.” Neil took another step forward, closing up even the most fleeting idea of any distance between you. “I think you like to imagine me filling you up until there’s no way that you couldn’t be pregnant.”

You could hardly believe the words coming out of your boyfriend’s mouth. This was certainly not how you had imagined any potential conversation going.

“And… what if I do?” you asked.

Neil shrugged, not nearly as nonchalant as he was trying to be.

“You tell me,” he said, lowly. “Do you want me to?”

“Want you to…?”

Before you could finish your sentence, Neil’s lips were on yours again, kissing you with a renewed hunger that seemed to extend to some deeper level. Before, things had been teasing and light, like they usually were between you. Now, they felt almost serious. Your head spun as you felt yourself give in to the kiss, letting your wildest fantasies surround you as you stood there, knees buckling at the strong ache that ran through your legs. You had to hold onto Neil slightly as he pulled away. 

“I know we’re not ready for kids yet,” you started, not very convincingly.

Neil was making it too hard to focus, as his lips trailed over the side of your face, pressing kisses into your jaw, your cheek, your temple. You hadn’t expected this reaction from him, and you were scrambling to figure out how to respond.

“So?” Neil laughed. “That doesn’t mean we can’t practice, right? There’s really no harm in that.”

“I… guess not,” you agreed.

Neil pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaning down to bite at your ear. You moaned - just a small sound you couldn’t hold back - and felt warm desire pool deep in your stomach as Neil whispered into your ear.

“I think you’d look cute, you know.”

He pulled back to brush a thumb over the very lowest part of your stomach, and the implication was obvious. “Do you?” you sighed, dreamily.

Neil pressed his body back up against you, and this time you could feel his hard length, digging into your hip. Your hands wrapped around his waist, holding him there as he answered.

“Mm-hmm. Seeing you pregnant would really just be a reminder of what I had done to get you like that, sooo… I think it’d be pretty hot.”

You wondered if Neil had any idea just how dangerous of a game he was playing. You knew he was only pretending. He and you both knew that you were on birth control. But… it would be so easy for things like that to change.

“You really need to start watching your mouth, Neil,” you warned him.

“I think I need to start watching you live out your little fantasies, babe.”

Neil’s next kiss was so passionate that he nearly bent you back over the checkout counter. His teeth caught your already-swollen lip once again as he snuck a hand under your thigh, pulling it up to hook over his waist.

“Neil! Can’t this wait til we get home?” you laughed, a sharp heat coursing throughout your whole body.

“Can you wait?” he countered.

That wasn’t really a fair argument. You very clearly could not, at least not based on the way you felt yourself clench around nothing more than the thought of Neil filling you up, just like he’d said earlier. You groaned as he kissed you again, sealing your fate.

“Okay, just - let me at least lock the door,” you begged.

Neil pulled away with a soft smile, and you could see just how incredibly hard he was through the outline of his jeans. 

“Hurry back, baby. Or I’ll have to come over there and get you.”

You practically ran to the front of the store, flipping the sign hastily over to “closed” before locking the door and drawing the blinds over all of the windows. It was already dark out, and you caught a quick glimpse of your wide smile in the reflection of the plate glass. This wasn’t the first time that Gumshoe had closed early for some less-than-legitimate purposes.

Suddenly, something crashed into your back. From behind, you felt Neil’s arms encircle your waist as he pulled you away from the window.

“Sorry, babe - couldn’t wait.”

His voice was close, burrowing into your ear as it nestled right next to the thoughts that continued to swirl in your head. You felt a rush down your spine at his words. 

Neil backed up a few more steps as he spun around, keeping you pinned to his chest, and then slammed directly into the shelves, spilling VHS tapes everywhere.

“Look who’s the overeager one now,” you laughed, arching back slightly as Neil’s hand grabbed roughly at your breast.

“Who said I wasn’t?”

Neil guided you down to the floor, flipping you over to face him as you landed among the catastrophe of VHS tapes. You shoved a few out of the way, making enough room to lie down while Neil hovered over you, busy with ripping off his shirt.

“Is this really how you treat the mother of your future children?” you joked.

“No,” Neil replied, looking down at you as he tore off his belt. “This is how I treat the girl who wants me to fuck my cum into her so badly, she can’t even focus on rewinding tapes.”

Neil shoved his pants down while you were still too shocked to speak, and then went to work on your clothes, nearly wrestling you out of them as he grunted above you. Neil sometimes got rough when he was excited, but you hadn’t ever seen him like this. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who liked the idea of him getting you pregnant.

Naked and lying on the floor of your boyfriend’s video rental store, you felt yourself practically drip onto the carpet.

“Neil, are you really gonna…?”

“Cum in you?” he finished. “Course I am. How else are you gonna get knocked up?”

Your face flushed. The line between real intentions and fantasy ones was already so dangerously thin, and you felt yourself grow even more excited at the idea of not knowing how serious he was. The two of you had always been cautious. Neil always pulled out of you, even knowing that you were on birth control. It wasn’t like anything would actually happen if he chose not to, but…

“Need you to take me nice and deep - okay, baby?”

Neil’s words snapped you back to reality again as you felt him line up. Your hips were hovering just off the floor, and the anticipation was killing you. You needed him inside of you, now.

“Okay,” you agreed breathlessly.

“Good girl.”

Neil sat up straight as he pushed in, and you felt yourself clamp down so hard that it was almost a miracle he was able to get anywhere. But he did, and you could feel every inch of him sink into you as he buried himself all the way, deep inside just like he’d promised.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he hissed. “But you’re not gonna be after I’m done with you. Fuck.”

You watched Neil groan as he squeezed his eyes shut and pumped once, almost cautiously. You could feel the drag of his cock as he pulled out, and you savored the slow thrust. You knew that this pace wouldn’t last long once he got started.

Neil’s hand drifted back down to your stomach, pressing softly as he pushed into you again.

“You feel that, babe?”

The sensation made you gasp. The slight pressure from Neil's hand made the fat head of his cock seem to nudge inside of you even more deeply; the feeling intense but addicting. Neil kept the flat palm of his hand pressed against you as he dragged out, then pushed back in, a little more roughly this tine. It was almost enough to send you right over the edge, and your hips inched up to increase the pressure.

“Fuck - you like that,” Neil commented, breathlessly. “Like feeling right where I’m gonna cum, don’t you?” “N-Neil! Fuck!” you gasped, unable to string more than two words together. 

It was absurd how quickly he’d brought you right to the point of no return. You could feel yourself, clearly about to let go any second, and you knew Neil could too. Your muscles were already spasming, clenching harshly around him, desperate for that last little push that you needed to tip over.

Neil grabbed your wrist with his other hand, only to drag it down to your clit. As he positioned your fingers, you heard him let out a small whine of his own.

“Fuck, baby - come for me, please,” he begged.

The added sensation of your fingers was more than enough to make you obey, and you screamed as Neil thrust his hips into you, pressing down harder with his hand. The feeling that washed over you was far too profane to be called good, but you found yourself unable to care about just how impure your thoughts were. You wanted Neil’s cum more than anything else in the world.

“That was so awesome,” Neil moaned.

His hands landed next to your head with a thud, as he fell forward heavily. The force sent a couple more VHS tapes tumbling off the shelf, raining down over the two of you. Neil didn’t seem to notice as he pumped into you again. 

“I wish you’d told me about this sooner,” he laughed. “You’re squeezing me like crazy; I can’t believe how turned on you get at the thought of me fucking a baby into you.”

You could barely respond, still coming down from a high that had left you shaking. Neil brought a hand to your face, cradling you as he continued to thrust, steadily picking up pace.

“I’m right here, babe,” he assured, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this. Can you beg?”

His request sent a jolt straight through you. The sound of his voice, slightly strained and right on the verge of cracking, almost made it seem like he should have been the one to beg you. But, then again, he hadn’t needed even a full five minutes to get you to come so hard that you still couldn't see straight.

“Neil, please,” you whined, letting go of all sense of decency.

“What d’you want me to do, baby?” he groaned.

You suddenly found yourself with both hands pinned over your head; Neil’s fingers digging into your wrists as he held them tight. He leaned all his weight into it, using his other hand to grab frantically at your hip as he picked up his pace even more. It hurt, having both arms pressed so hard into the floor, but you honestly couldn’t have cared less if it meant Neil was close.

“Fuck, Neil - want you to fill me and fuck me again and again. Want your cum so badly. Want you to-”

“Fuck!” Neil yelled.

You felt him rush to bury himself, deeper inside of you than he had ever been. His expression as he came was so twisted in agonized pleasure that it nearly knocked the wind out of you. The sensation was somehow different than you had imagined it; a wet warmth that seemed to spread through you and seep into your bones, still sore from being pushed down into the hard floor.

As he came down from his own high, Neil thrusted weakly a few more times. You felt his cum start to slip out of you, dripping down the curve of your thigh before pooling onto the carpet.

That would be awkward to explain. You hoped that it wouldn’t stain too badly.

“Holy shit, we should do that more often,” Neil breathed. He brought his hand back to your face, dragging his knuckles over your jaw as he let go of your wrists. “You okay, baby?”

“I’m… yeah,” you said dreamily, still unable to think quite straight. “Wow, Neil.”

“Yeah, I could tell you enjoyed that,” he laughed, moving inside you and shoving his cum a just little bit deeper. 

He had started to get soft, but you felt him twitch slightly at the new sensation. Your mind flashed back to earlier, when he had talked about filling you over and over again until there was no way you couldn’t get pregnant.

Neil kissed you sweetly on the lips, then pulled back to look at you. A serious expression bloomed over his face.

“Babe, do you have any other fantasies? You have to tell me if you do.” He kissed you on the nose, quickly, before continuing. “Can’t believe I almost missed out on the chance to breed your tight little cunt.”

Neil, clearly, hadn’t quite left this particular fantasy behind.

“I didn’t mean to not tell you. I just… I worried you’d think it was weird.”

“Baby, anything that drives you this wild would never be weird to me,” Neil promised. “Especially if it means I get to do this. You really do look so pretty stuffed full of cum.”

You felt your cheeks start to heat up again, and Neil pressed his lips to yours, softer this time. His tongue slipped briefly past yours, before he pulled away to look down at you. You were the first to speak.

“I really do think you’d make a good dad. Just for the record,” you said.

Neil brushed the tip of his nose over yours.

“You tryin’ to sweet talk me into doing all that again?” he teased. “Because I think we might wreck the whole store. Somebody’s gotta clean up these tapes.”

He gestured widely toward the shelf next to you, knocking over a few more cassettes in the process. 

You laughed, wrapping your arms tight around Neil’s neck as you pulled him in close for one more kiss.

[piratefishmama]

Fake it till you Make it | Part 20

So now, he was sat in a car, with a rich older man.

To some little queer boys, this would be a dream come true, especially since the older man wasn’t half bad in terms of looks, that all American square jaw, strong nose, the works. Plus… rich.

But this wasn’t a rich older man whisking him away, no, this was Steve Harrington’s regularly absent father taking him grocery shopping.

It’d been a wild day.

“So…” Eddie didn’t do well with silence. Silence never sat right with him. Had to fill it somehow, be it with silly noises, random singing, or conversation with any person in his vicinity. “They uhm, they do that often?”

“It’s a family thing, I think we’re all as bad as each other.” At least he was self-aware, the eldest Harrington still watching the road as they drove through the small town, he knew where he was going though, each turn done as if he’d driven the route enough to do it blindfolded. “Lynda’s a lawyer so, that should explain that” loved being right, it was her job to be right, even if she was actually wrong, she had to make out like she was right and she did it well. “I’m a middle child” explained both everything and nothing at all, “and Steven… I think he got a little bit of both of us. I’d have thought you’d be used to that though, since you’re dating him.”

“Ah-haha, I mean… don’t get me wrong, I’ve always known about Steve’s uhm… how to phrase this… mean girl streak?” John snorted a little laugh, emboldened, Eddie continued, “he’s like everyone’s disappointed mother, always with the little—” Eddie shifted in his seat, just about managing to put his hands on his hips and cock them weirdly in place “pose that he does when he’s oh so very disappointed in you. I used to thrive on it back in high school, whenever he’d catch Tommy H or the other basketball goons bullying the kids, he’d just stand there like he’d caught his kids with their hands in the cookie jar, an they’d actually just… cower, like he could actually do anything to them. It was the funniest shit I’d ever seen.”

It'd actually been quite the surprise when that’d happened the first time, it didn’t happen often, Steve had been a douchebag, not the ‘shove your head in a toilet’ kind of douchebag, or the ‘shove Gareth in a locker’ kind of douchebag.

No, he was the mega bitch douchebag who could flash a smile and drop every set of panties in his immediate vicinity, he was the douchebag who KNEW he could do that. Who carried himself high with the knowledge, lording it over everyone without… ever actually lording it, it was a presence kind of thing. An attitude.

And maybe, occasionally, he’d have been the douchebag who didn’t really see anyone unless he wanted to see them, didnt really pay any attention to those not on his radar, those not in his friend group, which led to many an accidental shoulder check, which had in turn led to Eddie’s own personal little vendetta because he’d lost one of his prized mini figs to the underside of the Hawkins High trophy case when Steve had walked by a little too close and shoved him just hard enough to send Eddie’s shit flying.

Had just kept walking as if he hadn’t even seen him. Asshole.

It was only when he’d first been seen hanging around Wheeler that his personality had shifted toward something reasonably human. Thanks Wheeler, the sacrifice of your time and patience hath created a god among men.

“So he was never… bad then?”

“Nah” no sense bad mouthing the boyfriend, that wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Real Prince Charming in a perfectly pressed polo shirt. He’s amazing, sir… you have nothing to worry about with Steve, he’s… one in a million.” Now anyway.

“Good. Good.” And then he fell silent, the quiet stretch lasting nearly five minutes with only the faint music playing on low volume from the radio to fill that silence, until the eldest Harrington pulled the car into a quiet carpark, and parked. “Here we are!” Oh thank Christ.

“We can't keep doing this.” Steve was the first one to speak up during their mutual living room silent treatment, finally looking at this mother after nearly an hour of watching a gentle snowfall that’d started outside. He hoped it wouldn't get heavier before Eddie got back.

“I have no idea what you—”

“Mom.” Steve cut her off, his eyes sharp and tone firm. “We can’t keep doing this. This bickering, this who’s right who’s wrong shit, we’ve gotta stop, at least here.” If not for their own sanity, but for the image he was giving Eddie of his family life.

Of what he might possibly maybe be getting himself into if Steve could actually swing a real relationship by the end of the week. The chances of him saying yes were already pretty farfetched, but if Steve’s parents were their worst selves…

Why would Eddie want to subject himself to that long term?

She paused, expression unreadable, something she’d mastered years ago for the court room, then she sighed. “I know, Steven.” She sighed heavily “Sometimes I forget that you’re a grown up now, that you can argue right back and actually stand your ground.” It only felt like yesterday when he was tugging uncomfortably at the little bowtie they used to make him wear for special occasions, all dressed up looking up at them with those big hazel eyes of his. His childhood only felt like yesterday. “I miss when you were cute and just did as you were told” she sniffled. Back when his parents had been there regularly before their duties had pulled them away. Before distance had strained them and they missed everything. Steve rolled his eyes but said nothing as his mother continued “Anyway, i agree. I think I’d prefer it if Eddie didn’t go away from this trip thinking John to be the most mature of us.”

“God, could you imagine?” Steve shook his head to free himself of the truly harrowing thought, allowing the subject to change. “I really like him, Mom... I didn’t expect to at first, not enough to want something long term with him anyway...” He’d thought it’d be easy to just pretend with him at first, but Eddie just had this... thing about him, Steve didn’t really know how to explain it, he just felt like home. Maybe it should have been alarming as to how fast that’d happened but... Steve had always rushed into things, funnily enough he didn’t think Eddie minded. “So I’d really like it if he liked all of us by the end of this, an if he only likes Dad cause of our bullshit, I think I might just disown the both of you.” The last part said in jest but... god he’d never let it go.

He’d lockjaw it until the end of time, would take it out on special occasions and shake it in their faces like look what you did. Look at what you cost me.

“Honestly, sweetheart I think I’d disown myself.” Lynda laughed, the air finally lightening up a little between them. “Here, how about we go see if the maintenance men pilfered the wine cellar? I’m positive Mags was hiding a damn good red down there among the cabernet that I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want to go to waste...”

“Well... we probably should check it... just in case, y’know? For security reasons.” Not that he actually doubted the integrity of the maintenance crew, they’d been employees for years, they’d known his grandparents, had worked for them in their later years when time had started to catch up to them, and a steady gig passing through generations wasn’t something to scoff at.

“Security, absolutely.” But then, the contents of the wine cellar alone was probably worth more than the actual house, so… better double check.

For security reasons.

Part 22