#but then it got to the end and like one (1) apology from each person was enough yo erase damians insecurities and make him forgive them

[ed3mm]

Y'all ever read a fic where it's hurt/comfort and the author is really good at writing angst, but not comfort, because this just happened to me. Pretty sure the last few chapters were supposed to be the comfort but it just made me more upset

[fanfic-obsessed]

Feral Tim

I have found I have a great love for Feral Tim Drake. This is a Tim Drake who has built his own moral code in an echoing, empty house and tracking vigilantes across rooftops. First it should be noted that Tim’s loyalty is tied closer to Robin than it is to Batman.  That his motivation for blackmailing Bruce to become Robin was more toward saving Robin’s Dad and Robin’s legacy than saving Batman. 

Little Tim Drake is Obsessively, Desperately, Dangerously protective of the Robin legacy and his predecessor Robins, particularly Robin #2 Jason Todd.  It becomes well known in Gotham, really quickly that it is not a good idea to insult Robin while Robin #3 is around.  

As always, I have no idea what is cannon here.

Like, if you insult Robin #3 to his face, you will get a laugh and an agreement-He will still stop you from your crimes but you won’t end up extra hurt. If you insult Robin in general, Robin #3 will be more aggressive in taking you down and you will get some extra bruises. If you insult Robin #1, you can expect at least one additional broken bone, which bone depends on the insult. However if you insult Robin #2, Robin #3 will bite and he will bite to the bone; you will be mauled and chances are Batman will have to pull Robin #3 off you. 

Count of Bites, before all of Gotham got the point: 4 low level criminals, 3 civilians (all of which were drunk, belligerent, and woke up the next day confused about their injuries), no less than 16 assorted Goons, and The Penguin. 

I want you to take a moment to picture Batman, who got a bit less violent after getting Robin #3 but got substantially less violent because he had to be a tired dad prying his little gremlin’s jaws off The Penguin. Everyone is distinctly uncomfortable with Batman apologizing to The Penguin. 

So Gothamites, no matter the type, learned that one does not insult Robin #2 ever. In fact avoid insulting Robins, unless you are specific enough to be insulting Robin #3 (Though they would not have cause to know for several more years, this protectiveness extended to both Robin #4, the girl Robin, and Robin # 5, the Stabby Robin). Batman gets less violent by virtue of now chasing after a child with negative fear responses (Seriously, Scarecrow once dosed him with his latest fear gas and Robin #3 did not even appear to notice). Gotham, as a whole (Goons, Civilians, all of the other Rogues, other vigilantes) and without consulting each other, decides that Robin #3 and The Joker cannot ever meet. There is a herculean, sustained effort by all of the Rogues and Goons to keep the Joker distracted until Batman can send Robin away whenever the Joker breaks out. Consensus is that no one quite knows which will come out victorious, but there would be substantial damage. Also, Robin would end up biting the Joker and no one is sure what the Joker’s blood would do to him.

We fast forward to Red Hood taking over Crime Alley. He does not notice but the first time he ranted about Robin every one of his subordinates, plus the three Black Mask Goons in the room, flinches. They all relax when it becomes clear that the Robin Red Hood takes offense to is Robin #3.   No one quite knows how to tell Red Hood that, for his health, he should stop insulting Robins (there had never been any real discussion about it). Black Mask and Ivy, at separate times, try to awkwardly pass on the warning but did not quite get the message across (there really is no way to phrase “The tiny child in the traffic light colors is dangerous and will do you actual damage if you disparage his personal hero, the dead Robin”). 

As soon as it got around that Red Hood hunts Robins, with Robin #3 specifically being a target, Batman does ship him out to Titan Tower at once, but not for the reason that Red Hood thinks.  It is not actually to protect Robin, not really. It’s because Batman has figured out that Red Hood was once Jason, and he knows down to his bones that Tim’s moral compass stays on this side of the killing line because he believes that both Jason and Dick would have a problem with him killing.  If he finds out that Jason, the preferred of the two, is ok with killing, that line goes out the window.  And then Batman is going to need to put Robin on a child leash. 

So Red Hood goes to attack a Robin far from the nest and it starts about how he expected. He got in a few good hits, and his replacement actually does have some decent moves. Then Jason makes a disparaging remark about ‘the Robin that died’ that, had he been allowed to finish his sentence, would have circled back around to insulting Tim. However he was not allowed to finish his sentence because instead of fighting on human teen, he was suddenly fighting some kind of demon (metaphorically), who in between mauling him (and how the fuck is this kid biting through kevlar, Jason would like to know) is screaming about how Red Hood was not allowed to talk about Tim’s Robin like that. 

For a few moments Red Hood gets to realize Robin is not locked in with him, he is locked in with Robin.  Then one of Robin’s attacks pulls off the helmet (no bombs at this time, thankfully). As soon as Tim sees Jason’s face he stops attacking and hugs him tightly, babbling about how good it is to see him alive and apologizing for attacking him as Tim thought it was just some villain being disrespectful.  Tim pulls him through to the med bay to treat his injuries. 

While Jason is being treated, and they wait for the lockdown to lift, Jason is struck by the realization that if he even implied he wanted it, Tim would go try to collect the Joker’s head for him.  This is quickly followed by the terrifying realization that Jason is 45% of this child’s moral compass (With Dick being about 30% with the remaining 25% being all Tim). 

The Pit Rage is practically running from this level of crazy. 

Jason finds himself escorting Tim back to the Cave, with Jason low key panicking.  While there is some sympathy in the form of Dick, it turns out that Dick and Tim have a similar way of thinking (except where Tim imprinted on the two Robins, Dick imprinted on Bruce and Alfred) and the same recklessness. It’s Bruce that Jason finds himself bonding with (Is Jason weirded out by the fact that, of his siblings, Jason-with his supernaturally enhanced anger and the bag of heads- is the most stable? Yes, Yes it does) as he desperately tries to keep Tim from doing damage (both physical and psychic) other people.

[themeraldee]

The Lucky Winner

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 8.5k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Pre-season 1. Voice kink. Oral sex. Unprotected sex.

Summary: You're a huge fan of Homelander but you always feel too awkward to ever meet your hero at a meet & greet or similar events. Your friends enter you into a Vought competition, where you've got a chance to win a phone call from Homelander himself.  

Author’s Note: My first Homelander fic! Also, this is the first time I’m publishing my work. Obligatory English isn’t my first language so apologies if there are any strange turns of phrase but I happily take on criticism so feel free to correct me. I want to get better! I’m also not very good with sticking to the right tense. This is very self-indulgent so read with caution. 

You can’t decide whether to hug or strangle your friends. They’re trying to be nice, you get that. But this goes against everything you’d ever do! Lovely as they are, they’ve entered you into a competition to meet your hero. To meet Homelander. The thought alone makes your head spin, your heart pound and stomach twist on itself.

‘It was just 20 bucks, what’s the worst that can happen? You win?’ Reads your friend’s message. You roll your eyes, hearing the teasing tone in your head. They know about your not-so-hidden obsession and at the end of the day they just wanted to brighten their friends day.

And sure, you are a fan. Okay, fine. You’re a big fan. Obsessed even. Every-wall-of-your-bedroom adorned-with-posters-and-promotional-materials obsessed. But you don’t want to appear like that. Last thing you’d want to come across as to your idol, you hero, is an annoying screeching fan begging for his attention.

You don’t want to be part of the crowds pawing at him, inching as close as they can just to graze his uniform with their fingertips. You don’t want to look like a feral fan. You have manners. You don’t want to be just another face, just another adoring fan begging for him to look your way. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you’ll never be more than a fan. So you don’t go to meet & greets. You don’t go to premieres. You don’t pay exorbitant fees just to meet your hero.

You’re a romantic at heart. You always imagine the first meeting to be one for the books. Maybe he saves you from a burning building flying you down, his stars and stripes billowing in the wind as he looks at you with concern etched into his handsome face, his piercing blue eyes scanning you for injuries as he talks to you with a soothing rumbling tone that sends shivers down your spine. You can clearly imagine him going, Are you okay miss?, as he descends to the ground. Or you just happen to bump into each other but he catches you with his strong arms and fast reflexes and just like that it’s love at first sight. Scenarios after scenarios. All varieties of ‘meet-cute’s play in your head on a daily basis. You spend your time getting lost in your head, dreaming of the day when it will be your turn to be the protagonist of the story. When will you be the damsel in distress? But you sigh and move on with life, because this isn’t a romance novel.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself (and others) when people ask you why you haven't tried to meet your hero. 

Oh I just don’t want to be a weird obsessive fan. Plus it’s expensive!

Meeting heroes is technically easy. Vought gives people many opportunities to see their heroes for a pretty penny. They parade their heroes around like exotic animals in a zoo on a daily basis. 

For you the reality is that you simply can’t handle seeing your hero up close and personal, let alone talk to him. How are you not meant to get flustered in front of what you considered to be perfection? How are you meant to find your words or even come up with words worthy of being uttered in his presence? You’re meant to look into his eyes, tell him how much of a fan you are and not fluster and burst into tears from the anxiety coiling in your gut as you wait your turn? 

You don’t want that. You don’t want to be just another babbling fan. You want to stand out. You want him to remember you. You want him to think about you.  But you’re also a realist and you know that at most he’ll think you just another annoying fangirl if he even grants you a passing thought. So you spare yourself those hurt feelings and you avoid meet & greets, you avoid all the fan-targeted conventions, events, promotional campaigns or competitions. 

Or you always have. Until now it seems. You again scroll up in the group chat where your friends surprised you with an entry to the newest competition Vought advertised. It was presented as a fundraiser. All proceeds are planned to be donated to Samaritan’s Embrace. A simple $20 entry that would grant you a chance to be one of five lucky winners to get a personal phone call from Homelander. 

A fat chance of that, you thought when you first saw the competition announced on both Vought’s and Homelander’s twitter accounts. With a competition that invites Homelander's country-wide fanbase, there really is no chance of you winning. You half-comfort yourself with that thought. You don’t know where you’d even start should you win. Part of you thinks that maybe ‘meeting’ him over the phone could be bearable as he wouldn’t be able to witness just how badly you’re holding it together.

But then you think back to all the videos you’ve watched. The reels and the tiktoks you’ve saved. The podcasts and interviews that at this point you play almost religiously. He's perfect in every way but you're particularly fond of his voice just rumbling in your ear when it gets nice and low as he talks in lengths about the upcoming movie or his most recent save. A while back you bought yourself a decent set of noise-cancelling headphones with great audio quality and suddenly it felt like he was right behind you just purring into your ears. Very few interviews record with good enough microphones to capture how mesmerising his voice is but those that do get saved and played on repeat sending shivers down your spine, following you to bed and invading your dreams. So no, maybe a phone call wouldn’t make the experience any easier on your poor heart. 

You calm down after the initial panic reaffirming yourself with the reality where there’s no chance that you’ll get picked anyway. You text your friends again, kindly thanking them for thinking of you as you shook your head with an amused smile. That’s that done and forgotten about.

Or so you think. Few weeks down the line the mental discourse has long left your mind. The conversation moves on and your friends don’t mention anything since. That’s why it’s no surprise when you pick up the unknown call after the third ring with ease, casually answering with, “Hello, Y/N speaking.” 

Homelander looks through the list of winners Ashley brought to his desk with a scowl on his face. He’s grumpy, having to jump through everyone’s hoops is grating on him, slowly chipping away at his showmanship armour. This is just another nail in the coffin. Now he has to make private phone calls?

He wants to be revered, loved. With people bending over backwards just to get his attention. Sure, that’s right up his alley. Get the crowds to scream his name, be grateful for his divine presence. What he isn’t a fan of is making others think they’re special. He’s the special one. Where does Vought get off thinking that he’s got the time to call and visit his fans one-on-one.

He rolls his eyes looking through the unimpressive line-up that Vought carefully curated. One of each demographic, trying to hit all the targets Vought wants him to improve his numbers with.

Each candidate has a sheet of talking points assigned to them, things to highlight, mention or even promote to each one of the fans. Normally Homelander would throw Vought’s carefully crafted response straight back to their faces but right now he’s not in the slightest interested in being clever or the fans' idea of ‘authentic’ so he’d rather rattle off a few lines from a curated list of party lines. At the end of the day he doesn’t care for this. Talking to five individual fans doesn’t help him in the grand scheme of things. This isn’t happening in public, there’s no one here to witness his generosity. Nobody to witness a god, looking down and gracing his followers with his benevolence.

Vought believes the individual approach will be worth it in the long run. That apparently fans will come running to any future events and competitions seeing as real people they might know have won in the past. All Homelander sees is at most five twitter mentions from a few nobodys.

He’s got about an hour in the calendar to get through all of these. Though he's banking on this taking a lot less time. There are many more important things he could be doing instead. 

He flips through the files again, each profile is filled out with a name, number and a photo, deciding on the least painful order. A young boy, an elderly woman, a middle aged comic enthusiast, some punk teenager and you. Homelander looks at your profile with mild interest. You’re the only one who Vought didn’t manage to find a good quality recent photo of. Clearly you don’t do social media. Yet the quality doesn’t take away from the intrigue your profile inspired. You’re easily the most interesting in the list but that’s not that hard to do. Still, Homelander puts yours at the end of the list. Saving the best for last.

“Hellooo and congratulations! This is Homelander and you’re one of the few lucky cookies who get to have a little chit chat with me.” All air gets sucked out of your lungs and the ease with which you picked up the phone is gone. Your eyes widen, breath caught in your throat only coming out in confused little stutters. This isn’t real. It can’t be!

Whether it’s a particularly vivid dream or your world is actually turning upside down you’re glad this happened at home. Your knees buckle, your ass landing straight on your bed, your legs trembling with nervous energy as you sit down.

“W-what?” You manage to blurt out, more breathy than not. Your heart is pounding like never before. You wouldn’t be surprised if he can hear it over the phone, it feels loud to your ears.

“The competition? You entered, right?” His voice. His fucking voice was right in your ear and you felt like melting into a puddle of goo. Anything to spare you the embarrassing words that are surely about to come out of your mouth one way or another.

“Oh… um…” You are blowing it. There’s no other word for it. Totally embarrassing yourself. Not able to say a word, still trying to calm your heart down.

“Are you not a fan? Have I got the wrong number–?”

“N-no no! No…I mean yes. I mean sorry…fuck.” You are totally losing it. The hand holding your phone is shaking with nervous energy. 

“Hey hey hey…. Come on now. Take it easy. Now take a deep breath aaand relax.” His voice is rich and sweet like honey, just like you’ve heard on TV but here it feels intimate. Just for you. He’s not talking to anybody else. As he hears your stuttered intake of breath and a mildly calmed exhale he coos again. “That’s it. Breathe with me. Now in.” If only he knew that this is making things so much worse for you. “And out.” 

“I’m so sorry. I meant to say, I am a fan but I don’t do this.” Your voice still trembles with each word but you’re a little more composed. 

“What? Call people?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, he's clearly pleased with his little joke. 

“No.” You can’t help yourself but chuckle, your lips spreading in a wide grin. Your heart is still pounding but it’s more excitement than embarrassment. You’re actually talking to Homelander. And you have already embarrassed yourself beyond belief but he’s still here! He’s still talking to you. He doesn’t even sound upset. “I mean I don’t meet you guys. Heroes. I don’t really know how to do this. I mean I pretty much live on your doorstep and I’ve never met either one of you.” Now that he calmed you down, getting you talking, you can’t stop talking. 

“Really? Some fan you are.” Were you of a sound mind you’d hear the joke but now all you could think is that you’ve upset him. And you can’t have him think that. Sure you’ve always wanted to stand out but not in a negative way! You take it to heart and you apologize.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to offend. At all! Really! It’s just, you don’t need another person begging for an autograph that they can brag with to their friends or sell online for a quick buck.” 

He exhales a little breathy laugh that has your whole body flush hot. “Oh, aren’t you adorable.” The panic that was inflating in you like a hot air balloon finally fizzled out. Instead it’s replaced by a throbbing heat in between your legs and you place your free hand over your heart, almost trying to will your body into behaving normally. “You know if you want I can send you some, would be a shame for such a sweet fan to not have anything personalised. I’ll sign it with your name.” He offers, a nice gesture, really, but you are currently having a whole body meltdown to even appreciate it for what it was.

“O-oh,that isn’t—You don’t have to—” 

He continues nonetheless. 

“Y/N, is it? Beautiful name.” Your name rolls off his tongue perfectly, all soothing and sweet. And there you go, melting into a puddle just for him. 

“You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t bite. At least, not over the phone.” You let your hand trail down your body. He’s just talking. He’s just making jokes. He’s just trying to strike up a conversation to make such a freaked out fan of his a little calmer and there you are getting your rocks off on this. 

“Sorry. It’s hard not to be. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long while. I didn’t expect I’d ever get to talk to you. It’s kind of you to do things like this for us fans. I’m sure you’re busy. Thank you for taking the time.” You distract yourself from the throbbing that’s just calling for your hand to settle heavily in between your shaking thighs. 

“Oh no problem. Wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for all my loyal fans, right?” You should really stop moving your hand down your body. But you can’t help the effect he has on you, you’re not acting normal! 

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the fame that makes you special. It’s you.” You breathe you all dreamy before realising this isn’t just one of your fantasies. No. You really are talking to Homelander. You cough a little, pretending like you had something stuck in your throat. 

“It is?”

“I think so. Change into civilian clothing and I’m sure you’ll still be turning heads.” You speak normally now but you bite your lip at the end, your hand now just above your pubic bone. 

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this plenty.” Oh, of course you have. Your body is screaming at you to take the plunge, to slip your hand down your panties, and make yourself feel like this is more than just a friendly fan call. But your mind is, correctly, telling you that this is beyond inappropriate. 

“Ah no! I just mean that you’re perfect at what you do. There’s nobody like you. Noone could take your spot. So it’s more than just fans.” You’re surprised you’re still carrying on. You feel like your brain is turning into mush with each word he’s saying. 

“What can I say? I take my job very seriously.” He goes on to talk about being a leader of the Seven, you guess he’s just trying to fill space seeing as you’re such a blubbering mess. Even with all his efforts at making this normal, your brain turns all the innocent words into the filthiest dirty talk.

“Look, I’d love to talk to you some more but I’m afraid I’ll have to end it there. I’m late for a talk show interview.” You retract your hand as if it got burnt and instead you grab onto the comforter you’re sitting on, stopping yourself from doing anything impulsive. 

“O-of course.” Your heart rate is elevated again, something about the thought of him leaving and you never getting the chance to speak to him again makes you want to scream. 

“Tell you what, I don’t want to be unfair to you. You hardly got your prize. I’ll call you later. You free in the evening?” 

“Y-yes.”

“Perfect.” 

Perfect. You’re fucking perfect. Homelander can’t stop the way his lips stretch into a predatory grin. You are exactly what a fan should be like. Swooning over him. Grateful that he’s even bothering to grace you with his presence. You were practically kneeling, bent over before him on the floor, kissing his feet as he gave you a taste of his divine presence. He has half a mind to take care of the uncomfortable hard-on pressing into his rigid suit. He couldn’t help himself when you were being such a sweet little thing. He feels no remorse at having rubbed himself through his suit as you were there on the other side of the phone, undeniably shaking in excitement, all flustered and tense and most certainly aroused. But no, he wants to wait his turn. He needs the real thing. He’s not planning on letting you go that easy.

Originally he was pissed that most of his time on the phone was taken up by the elderly woman who was talking his ear off. Now he’s thinking about sending her a gift basket. He has a real excuse to see you. 

When Homelander wants something he’s like a hunter, doing everything he can to lure his prey into his trap. In this case he abuses his powers to get the Crime Analytics team to dig up your address and in the meanwhile he sits through a mind-numbingly boring interview at a low-tier talk show he really shouldn’t need to waste his time on. 

The only thing that keeps him going is the thought that you might be watching. You seem like a big fan. You surely wouldn’t dare miss out on his live appearances. The thought alone gives him enough drive to not laser through the talk show host everytime she asks a stupid question and instead he imagines he’s speaking straight to you.

When the show is over he takes off before his team can steer him towards another boring chore. No, he has more pressing matters to attend to. Like any good predator he observes. He waits until it’s the right time to strike. That’s why he’s perched at the top of the building that’s opposite yours. He’s got a clear line of sight to your apartment but he’s careful in making sure you can’t see him. 

He watches, his grin reappearing every damn time he sees you reach your phone, checking if your ringer is on for the tenth time. You are an easy target, he can swoop in anytime and sweep you off your feet but he wants it to be perfect. With sick fascination he keeps watching you, your behaviours and patterns as you pace around your room trying to preoccupy your mind with mindless thoughts. He knows that nothing you do can now fill the void that he left behind. What else can replace the purr of his voice in your ear, soothing and exciting you at the same time. Nothing. There’s nobody like him. You said it yourself.

An hour of self-indulgent watching later he decides to end your misery. You just look so upset and disappointed and he knows you’ll just melt in his presence. He needs to be close to you. He got a little sprinkle of what you're like over the phone and now he’s got a craving for the real thing. He needs to feel you, smell you, hear your poor heart trying to keep up with the excitement right in his ear.

So with a quick drop he descends.

The day has gone by torturously slow for you. You spend every minute checking your phone in case your ringer randomly fails you and you won’t catch the second call from Homelander. Just thinking that makes your thighs quiver. The thought of having him purr into your ear any longer wets your panties all over again. But over the coming hours your enthusiasm deflates. It’s getting late and your chances of ever getting a call back are low. 

You emerge from the bathroom, fresh and clean, in your pyjamas ready to sleep today’s rollercoaster of emotions away. Or you would be if it wasn’t for a knock at your balcony door interrupting your thoughts and making you flinch in surprise. The flash of red and blue still so vibrant and colourful against the midnight sky has your breath catching in your throat. What the fuck?!

You open the balcony door in shock, and if you had the strength to do so you would have ripped it off its hinges with pure eagerness. There he is in all his patriotic glory. Homelander. A wide grin on his face, posture ramrod straight as he clasps his gloved hands behind his back, puffing his chest out.

“H-Homelander?!” Your voice quivers at the proximity, your heart picks up speed again and you feel your entire body flush both in embarrassment and excitement. Your first thought goes to how you currently look rather than questioning his motives or how he even found where you live in the first place. 

Trying to regain your composure you shake your head, blinking as if he was just a figment of your imagination. Maybe your devout obsession with him is finally damaging your mental state, making you hallucinate.

“Good evening, Y/N.” God, how does he do that! The way your name slips off his tongue so easily, with such familiarity makes you clench and part your lips with a gasp. Any sort of composure you’ve regained crumbling to dust. Now you are just awkwardly gawking, in awe at the unreal figure in front of you, in the flesh. Homelander doesn’t wait to be invited in, strutting into your modest apartment like it belongs to him, the confident strides of his red boots loud and heavy against the creaky floor of your apartment. He takes up the living space confidently, somehow making you feel like you don't belong in your own space. His presence took priority, anything else secondary—you included. 

“How did you—” Your question of how he found where you live doesn’t even get fully asked, let alone answered. He cuts in, not actually caring about your justified worry over having your address handed out willy-nilly. 

“Our call was a bit too short to my liking. You don’t mind a little late-night visit, do you?” You feel disarmed. His voice turns gravelly, lowering with each word. His tone teasing as if he was telling you a secret, so unlike his television persona where he’s all American apple pie values and open arms with clear intentions. Here, he grinned widely—all teeth with his sharp canines bared to you like the predator he is. Like you’re his next meal. “Ohohoo, would you look at this. Maybe you are my biggest fan, huh?” 

You are distracted by his voice, his presence, just him that you fail to notice his eyes wandering around your apartment. Your face flushes red in embarrassment as you see him assessing your safe space, or what felt like your safe space before this ambush, all with an amused grin on his face. 

“These are all limited edition. Must have cost you a small fortune.” Holding a breath you watch him take his gloves off one by one, placing the leather on your table with a soft thwack. It feels forbidden, not meant for your eyes. The public doesn’t get to see Homelander as anything other than perfect. His image manicured, perfected to the tiniest details. Seeing his surprisingly elegant bare hands, this up close feels intimate yet threatening like he’s unsheathed his sword, revealing one of the many hidden weapons he can use against you. 

You watch as he brushes his fingers against limited edition action figurines, box sets, posters and trinkets featuring his likeness or the logo emblem Vought associates with him. If it was anyone else you’d tell them to keep their paws away from your most prized possessions but it's Homelander. Who else gets the right to touch special limited edition merchandise of his own likeness? 

You watch as he paces the room with an unreadable expression. The embarrassment you feel transforms into an apology, heavy on your tongue as you force your mouth open, letting your shame out into the world. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed in his presence.

“I-I’m sorry.” 

“You’re sorry?” He turns his head over his shoulder with a curious expression. A swoop of his blonde hair handsomely falling into his face. He puts down one of the figurines he picked up earlier as he scouted the area. 

“All this stuff.” You wave your hand around, the grand display of what can only be described as the Church of Homelander, a shrine dedicated to his divine existence. You see how it looks, how it makes you look like a rabid fan. Though you’re anything but. “I know it’s a little strange. I don’t want to make you feel like a museum piece. Or-or-or a circus animal! I just admire you. A lot.”

“You do?” 

“I do.” Your breath catches in your throat as he turns around fully, facing you head on, one slow step inching towards you at a time. You gulp, feeling like you’re left in the dark regarding his intentions as you hopelessly struggle to read him. On the opposite spectrum you’re there, an open book, your heart on your sleeve, your every thought written so clearly on your face you may as well give him your diary to flip through. “More than anything.” Breathlessly you add, meeting his eyes as a challenge. You’re devout, as loyal as it gets. You’d do anything for him if he asked.

Homelander rises to your mental challenge with a grin so sharp you feel the metaphorical bite coming before he even opens his mouth as he steps closer. He’s so close now. Any ordinary man could feel the thud of your heartbeat, but to his keen senses it’s a war drum and he’s marching to a battle he’s already won. His bare, elegant hands make their way to your jaw caressing it with a surprising gentleness. You flinch. Even though you watched it happen with wide eyes, you didn’t expect his hands to leave you unmarred. You almost expect your skin to sizzle, unworthy of his divine touch.  

Homelander’s grin disappears, his tongue gliding along his teeth as if he’s cleaning them before he devours his next meal. All that leaves you is a little whimper before he pulls you in, his hands thrumming with incomprehensible strength as he kisses you. He kisses the air out of your lungs as if you could survive without it like he can. As if you could meet him in the middle. But dammit you do your best to. He’s a passionate kisser, incapable of sticking to soft kisses. No, he devours. He licks your lips open, his tongue gliding along yours. You brace your hands against his chest, already feeling weak in the knees. The heat of his breath and the wetness of his tongue in your mouth is nothing compared to how hot and wet you feel in your panties.

It doesn’t help that he’s vocal. You kiss him harder anytime he growls or moans into your lips, his voice vibrating against your lips just possessing you more. And soon it turns into a game of who can dish it out harder. Each devoted kiss makes him hum and purr which in turn melts you into a pile of goo, making you kiss him harder. Your lips feel hot, swollen from the ferocious kissing. You’re nearing the limit of what your lungs can manage without resurfacing for air.

Homelander pulls away but he doesn’t give you any time to recover. As if you could. How do you recover from that? Instead he’s adamant about making your heartbeat hit record heights. His hands glide down your body, featherlight touches that make your skin break out into goosebumps as he settles on your hips, trailing the waistband of your pants. His pink wet lips spread into another predatory smile and before you know it he leans closer to your ear, practically purring, “Tell me, if I take these off will I find you wearing Homelander panties too?” 

Flustered squeak escapes you as he laughs wholeheartedly at your embarrassment. You know he knows. He’s teasing you for a reason. “They’re comfortable.” You eventually grumble, pouting like a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I bet they are.” He sinks down to one knee, his hands taking the waistband of your pants with him as he pulls them down over your thighs, letting the fabric pool by your ankles. He pats your ankle, prompting you to step out of them. You comply, kicking the fabric away earning a little word of praise from him. “Attagirl.” You’re visibly trembling as he kneels in front of you, his eyes locked on the sight of your blue panties with his emblem and name right across the middle in gold, all accentuated by a red trim. It would be far from sexy in any other circumstance but he purrs at the sight. All pleased like the cat that got the cream. “Got my name across your pussy all day long?” 

Before you could react like any other person would, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You yelp, losing your balance trying to grab onto his head or shoulders for support but he puts his arm on your back, sliding it right under your top keeping you straight and secure whether you want it or not. You’re not leaving until he says so. “Might as well fucking taste it seeing as it’s already mine, don’t you think?” He gives you a hungry look licking his lips before hoisting your other leg over his shoulder, standing up with ease. He walks you back against a wall as he eagerly inhales the scent of you, his head perfectly in between your warm thighs. 

“Woah!” You stabilise yourself, finally having more surface to lean against. The fabric of your top glides along the surface of the glossy posters he has you pressed against. Making you the centerpiece, surrounding you with his likeness. You finally process what the fuck is happening as you feel his nose pressing into the soaked fabric of your panties. “Homelander! Y-you….ohh…” You whimper, your hands automatically finding comfort and safety in between his golden locks. 

“Fuck you smell good.” Homelander growls, his hands now on your ass, holding you in place as he sticks his tongue out, pressing it wetly over your soaked panties. The taste of you already coating all his taste buds.

“O-oh fffuuck. OH god…yes…yes please.” You don’t stop yourself from moaning freely, the time for embarrassment long gone as Homelander lifts one hand from your ass, impatiently pulling the fabric of your Homelander panties to the side, his tongue already slipping in for a taste before his hand even makes it back to squeeze your ass. “Taste just as fucking good.” His voice strained, uttering filth in between your thighs.

His thick tongue pushes through the slit of your weeping pussy, lapping up what you’ve so graciously prepared just for him. And as you watch a mop of blonde hair greedily slurp at your wetness like he’s parched, you think back to the fantasies that drove you to orgasm after orgasm as the imaginary Homelander ate your pussy. 

Well, for one the real thing is a lot more enthusiastic than you ever imagined him to be. He is sucking on your clit in rhythm that has you throb harder, making your toes curl. “Ohhh, Homelander!” You reward him with a loud moan of his name, like a prayer on your lips. And you repeat it with each masterful lick around your clit that has you squirming in his hold, legs quivering around his head, fingers tugging at his hair.

The second thing you never considered was how much his powers would come into play. Here he is with a deathly strong iron grip around your ass, easily holding you up on his shoulders against the wall while pushing you as close into his face as he can. The thought of not being able to escape his grip exhilarates you as much as it terrifies you. His lack of need for air makes him a perfect devout lover. Because this is pure devotion except it seems he forgot who was meant to worship who.

You’d be embarrassed by the obscene sounds you two are making if it didn’t feel so good. You moan for him prettily as he licks up all the wetness he’s coaxing out of you. You breath hitches as you feel your orgasm building. He's consistent, giving you just the right pressure. Homelander looks up at you, eyes glassy and blown back with lust before he swiftly repositions you, needing just one arm to make you feel weightless yet secure in his hold as he takes his free hand plunging two fingers into you revelling in the feeling of your cunt clenching around him.

“Oh there there there! Ahhh!” You guide him, his fingers pumping into you and with his tongue still working magic on your clit you whimper out, “oh fuck, I’m gonna, I’m gonna–.” You fall apart in his arms, cumming on Homelander’s tongue like you’ve imagined many times over. With you thrashing around you rip the poster right behind you unaware of the mess you’re leaving behind. He licks you through the waves crashing through you. He’s smug, you can feel the smirk against your pussy as he gives it one more kiss before easily slipping you off his shoulders, preening with satisfaction. “Mhmm you did so good.” His voice purred and even in your post-orgasm haze you flush with fresh heat at the praise.

He gives you time to compose yourself but you don’t want it. You want him. You need him. Your legs feel like jelly so you immediately sink to your knees, nuzzling your face into his crotch. Too eager to wait. Homelander cooed at your enthusiasm, “Look at that. Didn’t even have to tell you.” He chuckles, voice thick with lust, his lips and chin still glistening from the way he feasted on you.

Wobbly and out of your mind, you reach for his belt, unable to figure out how to unclasp it, your dexterity not quite there either to be able to wiggle the hem of his pants underneath it and pull them down.

You look up at him with the face of a kitten that’s not getting what it wants. Pouting and pleading for help. 

“Christ, let me help you with that.” Homelander unclasps his belt, letting it hit the floor with a loud and heavy clang and the thought of it denting the cheap flooring doesn’t even graze your mind. He unzips his pants and the hiss alone makes your mouth water. He pushes his pants a little lower and you stare wide eyed at where his thematically red briefs are tented, his cock throbbing and leaking pre-cum into the thin fabric.

Okay, this you can do. Your hands slide up his thighs, getting a little feel of the bare skin of his thighs. Unmarred, smooth and hot. Your hand briefly squeezes around his cock through his briefs, forcing Homelander to hiss through his teeth. You pull down his briefs, bunching them down with the thick fabric of his suit. 

You try not to stare and drool but you’ve imagined his cock in your dreams and fantasies so many times that seeing it in real life just kind of blows your fucking mind. It’s perfect. A bit longer than average but especially nice and thick. You lick your lips in anticipation. His hand rests on the back of your head, giving your hair a tug.

“You gonna keep staring or will you put those pretty lips to work?” His gruff tone tears you from the haze. 

You blush, being caught staring. Wanting to please your hero you apologize, “sorry, it’s just so perfect. You’re perfect.” You breathe out in pure adoration. 

“Come on then, be a good girl and open up for your hero. I want my cock wet before I slide it into that needy pussy.” He looks down at you with a sharp smile, his other hand rests on your jaw before moving up squeezing the hollow of your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. Not that he has to, you’re more than willing to deliver. You open wider, making his hand withdraw as you take matter into your own hands. Literally. You grip the base of his cock, feeling how hefty and hot it feels. It hits you in that moment that you’re holding Homelander’s cock. Fuck. You’re gonna be dreaming of this moment for years to come.

You look up, giving him one more doe-eyed look before you stick your tongue out easing the swollen red head in between your lips. The salty, musky taste of his pre-cum on your tongue makes you whimper, your eyebrows furrow with concentration as you focus on banking the memory of his taste in your head. Eagerly you get right into it. Down and dirty. You focus on him, coating him with an ungodly amount of saliva until anytime you pop off him you’re followed by strings of it connecting you two. His grunts and heavy breaths just urge you to do better. So you take him deeper, slurping around the saliva you've made for him, bobbing your head up and down.

You nearly lose your rhythm when he lets out such a needy wanton moan, making your pussy throb.

“Thaaat’s it, come on—fuck!—deeper, yeah yeaahh you got it sweetheart. God fuck that’s fucking it.” He’s nearly whimpering, so lost in the sensation. And you're eating it up. Each whimper and word goes straight to your pussy and at this point you wouldn't be surprised if you were making a puddle on the floor.

His hand forces your head down deeper and you gag, choking around him as for a second your nose bumps the neat thatch of hair above his cock. He's not easily dissuaded and he pushes again, a little softer this time. You almost feel the tremble of his hands, he's so close to unravelling. Just for you. The swell of pride pushes you forward and you take him deeper. He takes the chance to push both hands into your hair as he starts fucking your face.

“Take it. Take it.” He grunts, his voice more and more broken with every thrust. You're just about to push his thighs back, attempting to fight against his unyielding force but his hips stutter and he groans, letting out broken moans as he spills on your tongue.

As if on command you swallow and he pulls out, wiping the residual dribbles of cum on your lips. Now that he’s done you realise just how fucking badly your jaw aches. You whimper at the ache of your jaw and the ache between your legs. 

You’re still kneeling on the floor, a picture of pure devotion, with your mouth messy and lips swollen. He grumbles at the picture in front of him. He pulls you up by your hair, kissing the taste of himself out of your lips. You can still taste your pussy on his lips and tongue as he shoves it into your mouth. “Bed?” He's somehow more than ready to continue and mentally you add his extraordinary refractory period to the list of his many talents. 

You nod a broken, “y-yeah, this way,” the taste of him still heavy on your tongue as you lead him to your bedroom.

He lets out a little chuckle at the state of your bedroom, just as decorated with his brand as was the rest of your apartment. “Fuck me, you really are my biggest fan.” 

You’re about to apologize, again, and he can read you like an open book already shushing you. “Shh, don’t say it. C’mere, take this off instead. Want to see you.” He tugs at your top, wanting you to take it off. Like unwrapping a present. You let out a few breathless ‘okay’s and pull the top over your head baring your entire body to him, save for the panties that were still uncomfortably pushed to the side. He clearly wants you to keep them on and you’re not sure whether that’s his narcissism or possessiveness talking. You don’t dare comment on the fact that he’s still fully dressed. You’re not gonna start demanding things from the Homelander now are you? 

With a step closer he purrs, pushing you to the bed intensely watching as your tits bounce when your back hits the comforter. He follows as he lays over the top of you but he doesn't look at you. He picks up the grimacing Homelander plushie he sees on your pillow— the one that's predominantly advertised to kids. He holds it up for you to see with a raised eyebrow, the look almost condescending. “What? They make no other official plushies!” You defend yourself. 

“Is there anything you don't have?” 

You don't know what possessed you to answer, “yeah, you,” but Homelander eats it right up as he grins at you.

“Cheeky slut. Well you're about to. On your side.” He says sliding off you to rest on his side looking you up and down hungrily. You’re clearly surprised at his choice of position and he grumbles with annoyance as you take forever to move the way he wants you to. His impatience gets the best of him and he effortlessly manipulates you to your side, slotting right behind you. Homelander grips your inner thigh lifting your leg a little higher, as he nestles his cock right against your wet cunt.

You sigh with partial relief, feeling him solid against you feels good. Feeling him inside you would feel even better. “Jesus, you're still so fucking wet.” 

“It's all your fault.” You whimper trying to wiggle in his unyielding hold. He just tuts at you gripping you tighter, cusping on pain.

He pulls you close, his cock sliding in between your slit, immediately getting the top of his cock wet. His lips trail up your jaw until he reaches your ear. He growls, low and sexy, nipping at the sensitive skin of your ear. Your heart skips a beat, your pussy throbs as the sound of him just ripples through you. 

“Maybe it is. You know, I've been thinking. You're such a nervous little thing.” He grinds his hips into you, dragging his cock back and forth, teasing you. His voice got quiet, dropping a register lower. All slow and drawled out he continues rumbling in your ear clearly aware of what it's doing to you. “You were beside yourself when I called you. So there I am thinking nobody gets that nervous, not unless they’re trying to hide how fucking turned on they are.” He keeps fucking talking and talking, making you shiver to the point where you feel goosebumps rise all over you. Your breath ragged, your eyes fluttering shut.

You're starting to understand why he was particular about this position. After all, he could read you like a book from the get go.

“At first I thought it was just me because you're such a big fan.” He coos in a condescending tone. He licks the outer edge of your ear and you shriek, thrashing in his uncompromising hold. “But no no nooo. It's not that. Because everytime I spoke, your heartbeat sped up. You know, I was worried about you there for a minute. Then there was your pussy. You get so wet the air is thick with it. I can't even fucking breathe without tasting your sweet cunt.” You let out a broken sound, close to a sob, you pussy throbbing so hard he must feel it even without being inside you. You didn't even consider that his senses can easily sniff your secret out.

He’s still rubbing his cock in between your folds, sliding the whole length of it up and down. It’s slick and loud and so good and holy shit your clit is burning from the way his head catches on it with every thrust. You're so close and your body is on fire. You so desperately want to cum with something inside you but he’s cruel. He's not gonna give it to you just yet. “And look at that, you're still getting wetter. They do say it's always the unassuming ones.” He chuckles into your ear, low and vibrating against you.

“Is that it? Do you get off to the sound of my voice? Do you watch videos of me, listening to interviews while you finger your little pussy?” He's going harder, the wet sound of your pussy slicking his way in between your slit is deafening, embarrassingly loud. “Tell me.” The little command growls in your ear and you force your lips open.

“Y-yes! Yes….I-I find your voice sexy.” You admit to your little shameful secret. You admit that one of the reasons you never met him was because you didn't want to get sopping wet in a crowd full of screaming fans. “Don't stop, please.” You moan out, quiet and broken, your embarrassment making way to pure pleasure. Now that it's out in the open, what is there to hide?

“Do you even care what I say? Huh? I could be reading out the fucking phone book and your pussy would still get wet. Greedy little thing. What’s it gonna be? You gonna cum to my voice or are you gonna be difficult?” You're burning hot, your body so so tense, the leg he's hitched up a little trembling against his strong grip. His cock is still hitting your clit in the perfect fucking way and you're so so so close. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop! Oh fuck, Homelander—don’t—ahhh!” The dam bursts, a wave of pleasure sweeping over you as you scream. Homelander pulls back and with one deft stroke he slides his cock inside you. He doesn't move. He growls at the feeling of your cunt just pulsing against him. He's so thick inside you, stretching you wide, filling every crevice. 

He whimpers and you feel how tense he is holding off the orgasm threatening to burst inside him.

Just as you think this must be the end of it, your mind just a buzzing noise, he pulls out moving back and he pushes you on your back. 

You never expected him to be so active in bed but he's already in between your legs, his hands clamping down on the clammy flesh of the back of your thighs and he spreads you open. He's on his knees, his hands slide and curl from the back of your thighs to the top as he pulls you in, slowly sliding his cock into you in one push. 

He doesn't wait for anything. He just fucks you. Hard and fast, really getting himself off more than you. Surrounded by posters and merch all carrying his likeness while he plunges into you again and again. Your hair is plastered to your forehead as you watch your hero utterly ruin you. You're sweaty, absolutely spent and tired while he's pushing into you without breaking a sweat. 

This round isn't for you yet it's gonna be a memory you'll frequent the most. The look on his face, pure lust and torture as he's fucking you with as much strength as he allows himself. 

With how he's got your hips propped up he's managing to hit all your best spots as your overstimulated nerves light up, giving him one last finish, your pussy’s quivers pushing him over the edge as well. 

Then there's a little hot spurt of him inside you but you're surprised when he pulls out shooting most of his load with a few strokes of his fist all over your panties and stomach. 

“Ahh fuck. Look at that, finally got your first autograph.” He snorts, amused, admiring the sight in front of him. His cum has already soaked into your panties, the ‘Homelander’ text changing into a darker colour as both his cum and your slick from the previous round drench the fabric. 

You flush hot red and you shake your head, amused by his antics. “That's disgusting.” But strangely, you're charmed. 

“I should take a picture. You look great like this.” 

He notes as he slides off your bed pulling his briefs over his finally softening cock, tucking himself back into his suit.

“Stay?” You say softly, offering him the space for his benefit more than yours. Even though you'd like him to stay for a cuddle you know you'll be out of it in a minute.

“Can't do I'm afraid, duty calls.” 

You nod, understanding. “Thank you, I really feel like a winner.” You snorted, thinking back to how the day even started.

He looks at you almost fondly, but your orgasm-hazy brain might just not be working anymore. 

“Until next time.” He says as a goodbye and you end up tucking yourself into bed. The last thing you hear is the click of his belt he picked up from the living room, the creak of the leather gloves he slides back on and the sonic boom of him flying away.

And you know that when you wake up if it wasn't for your ruined panties, your throbbing cunt or even the ripped poster in the living room you wouldn't believe any of it was real.

You sure hope there will be a next time.

[Part 2]

Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story)

[bomber-grl]

Deku Dating hc!! ୨ৎ

Pairing(s): Izuku Midoriya x Gn!Reader

Creds ~ first divider: @/khaer 2nd divider: @/strangergraphics-archive Art: @/xuune/kaiihuna or @/_kaiihua on twt

HE IS SO FLUSTERED OMG

Not even an exaggeration, the moment you confessed it was like blud went into cardiac arrest

Once he regained his wits he reciprocated your feelings all in a couple of stutters and accidental muttering

How charming

All sarcasm aside, it really is endearing

Yknow how most of the people in class 1-A are unnecessarily weirded out by his muttering

Plus how Deku is more often than not, called names by his own fandom 💀

Well he thinks that way about himself too

Sure you get along more than just fine but seeing him apologize for being more than a little nerdy is shocking to say the least

I mean if anything his “weird” and nerdy self is literally part of his charm and you make this known

Reread that first bullet point for a hint to how he reacted to you telling him that

Anyway

It’s likely you guys met at UA

I mean it’s where he’s made the most friends at (if any) and the only reason he talked to you was either it was inevitable or he absolutely fan boy-ed over your quirk

If you guys had some sort of romantic connotation and you had to fight against each other in the sports festival he’d be pretty conflicted

Although, you’d probably not want him to hold back

If anything he’s just sorry about the whole ordeal 😭

As a boyfriend Deku is shy(?)

I mean just look at how he reacted to technically a none romantic gesture and just interaction - he’s definitely going to be flustered for the majority of you two hanging out

Overall he’s really sweet

Like genuinely it’s surprising that he’s never actually been with someone in a real relationship before

If you disagree… look at him in the beginning of the anime 😭💀)

At most he was probably jokingly asked out or asked out on a dare in the past

I do think that hero life would sort of interfere with romantic relations for you both(assuming ur attending UA)

So there’s times where meeting up or just hanging out would be difficult

But when you two can hang out- it’s really nice

You’re either going to fast food restaurants, going shopping or doing anything really-

These outings are similar in the fact that they all often end in you both fighting some villian 😭

There is this one instance where before the dorms were introduced- you and Izuku had stayed to train or clean- whatever it was at school

He got a call from inko and upon finding out you (someone he does nothing but yap about to her) were around, well, she figured she’d invite you for dinner

Queue you finally meeting Inko and if you’re nervous and want to get a gift of some kind Izuku is kind of laughing but also happy that you want to “impress” her

Even though she loves you already

When you meet inko, she’s is buzzing with as much nervous energy as Izuku is

Funny how similar they are

The dinner goes smoothly and if anything she just approves of you more

Now eventually dorms get introduced and so does sneaking around

Don’t tell me no one in class 1-a wouldn’t sneak around- they’re high schoolers and you can’t tell me they wouldn’t just want to have stereotypical sleepovers

Among those who would sneak around is you

Izuku is less likely to because he’s a bit shy and if he’s ever caught- God kill him now 😭

So ofc you end up sneaking to his room

Which sorta backfires because he loves all might and all might is just staring at you in every direction you look.

The merch is just too excessive

Even then, a sleepover is too much for him and in Izuku fashion- he gets flustered

It takes awhile for him to chill 😭

Holding hands? In the hall way?

If you manage to hold hands for 5 seconds before Iida or Bakugo mention it then you’ve got a personal best!

(Iida because he says no PDA, and bakugo cuz him and his big ass mouth always got something to say)

——————

A/n: hope u liked! ^^

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Princess & The Pilot - Part 4

In which you struggle to come to terms with falling for someone you have to hide.

Warnings: alcohol use. swearing. bit of angst in the middle. teeth rotting fluff at the end. also brief smut at the end accidentally? i got carried away, okay??? Pairing: Lando Norris x BritishPrincess!Reader Word Count: 4.6k or something like that

- The Princess & The Pilot - Part 1 - The Princess & The Pilot - Part 2 - The Princess & The Pilot - Part 3 - Master List

positivlynottheprincess posted a story:

land-ho ah so you are alive!! >>>positivelynottheprincess omg lan. i'm so sorry. i was just texting you. it was absolute chaos here tonight. Lizzie started running a fever and Char had to stay back to tend to her. so seb asked me to go last minute. which meant a last minute tiara fitting. >>>land-ho i'm just teasing, gorgeous. i just miss you. >>>positivelynottheprincess :( i know. i miss you too. i'm sorry i couldn't make canada work last weekend or monaco work this weekend. >>>land-ho don't apologize baby. i'll be in woking on monday ahead of spain though. think you can slip away? >>>positivelynottheprincess anything for you, handsome. >>>positivelynottheprincess pulling up to the palace, facetime tonight when i get home if you're not busy? >>>land-ho just streaming with max tn, call me whenever >>>positivelynottheprincess xox

"That tapping noise has got to break some international law or something, it's so fucking annoying."

Your eyes dart from your phone screen up to your brother across from you in the back seat of the Bentley you were riding in. "Language, Mister Future King of England." You scold.

Sebastian just rolls his eyes and glances back down at his iphone, giving you permission to go back to rereading your messages from Lando.

Ever since the weekend you spent with Lando in Monaco, you two had been getting closer and closer. You had tried to negotiate your way into attending the race in Canada last week, but your foundation had events scheduled and your father had needed your help with a few things. But Lando was going to finally be in town for a little bit so you were hopeful that you'd get to see each other more than just a few hours.

The hours you did spend together, on both FaceTime and in person, had been bliss. The way you two just clicked so easily was something that unnerved you a little. You were a bit surprised with how content you were to just keep the relationship between you and Lando though, as you were someone who tended to wear their heart on their sleeve. You loved big and you loved loud, which was sometimes a difficult thing to contend with when your family was famous for their stoic 'Keep Calm and Carry On' approach to life.

You wanted to protect the happiness you'd seemed to have found and Lando was inclined to agree. He wasn't a stranger to difficult relationships himself, never sure of what girl could be using him for clout or money. It was a strange feeling, but not at all unwelcome, when he realized that you were one of the few people in his life that didn't stand to gain something from your relationship with him.

Even so, the threat of being exposed still lingered, hazy off in the distant future. You both knew that it couldn't last forever, this little slice of paradise you'd built yourselves within the walls of hotels and townhomes. It would all come to an end but what came of that end was something neither of you wanted to touch with a ten foot pole. Because the outcomes were all terrifying and potentially heart breaking.

"Damn it." Your brother swears under his breath.

"Everything okay?" You ask, raising a brow when you see the frown on Sebastian's face.

"I just got an email from McLaren." Your heart stutters to a halt. "They invited me to the race in Spain next weekend but I already have things scheduled."

"I'll go." You say, just a touch too quickly.

"What's with the sudden interest in F1? First the Monaco race with Alice and now you're jumping at the chance to go to Spain?" Sebastian narrows his eyes at you and you momentarily think you've given yourself away.

"I had fun at that engagement at Silverstone. You and Michael are always talking racing. You've been to more races than I can count. It was bound to rub off, right?"

Biting your lip, you force yourself to stop the rush of words spilling form your mouth. Relax, you chide yourself as you pinch the space between your thumb and pointer finger to pull your attention away from what you just did.

Sebastian doesn't look away for a moment, almost like he's trying to figure out what your real motivation is for going to the race. You manage to hold eye contact with him, praying that you're doing enough to throw him off the scent.

"Fine. I'll let them know that you'll be there in my place." He says after a few tense moments, seemingly satisfied by your reasons.

The pulsing bass of the nightclub pulls you deeper and deeper under it's spell as you down your fourth drink of the night. Lando had finished on the podium behind Max just hours earlier and half the grid was out partying to celebrate. The race winner had been the one to invite you after the race and you had originally refused, not wanting to spend the evening watching Lando fight off girls trying to go home with him. You also didn't want to raise suspicion about the two of you being together so you had thought going straight back to the hotel and waiting for Lando to get back later that night would be a better choice.

In the end, it had been your protection officer Nathan of all people that had convinced you to go. He hated seeing you lock yourself away from experiencing normal things that other people your age were able to do without a second thought. So when he had overheard you turning down the invite from Max in the paddock after the race, he had pulled you aside.

'If you want to go out with them tonight, Dan and I are comfortable with it.' He had said discreetly as you had watched Max walk away. 'In fact, Dan and I think you should go out with them. Getting out of that hotel room will do you some good.' His gaze had found Lando then, who was walking towards you after completing his media duties after his podium. You briefly wondered how much he knew about what was going on between you and Lando. He hadn't said anything so far, but you knew your entire team was outside your townhome whenever you were home and they knew exactly who was coming and going at all times.

The entire weekend had been spent on the periphrial of Lando's world. He had shown you an appropriate amount of attention for someone who had only met you a handful of times, which to the outside world was exactly what you were to each other: aquaintences. Which was why you had supposed that going out with Lando and the rest of the group tonight was going to be okay. As long as you kept your distance, things would be okay.

Unfortunately, the alcohol had other ideas.

"You know, if you want to keep things secret between you and Lando, you should probably stop giving him heart eyes whenever you look at him." Max's deep voice startles you out of the trance you had been in on the edge of the VIP area of the club. Lando was at the bar across the room getting you another glass of whatever you'd been drinking that night and you hadn't taken your gaze off of him since he left the booth you were currently sitting in.

"I..." You stutter, trying to come up with a quick comeback but the alcohol has made your reaction time dull. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Max laughs and shakes his head, "Don't try to deflect with me, your highness. You haven't stopped staring at him since he got up."

"Am I that obvious?" You don't even bother trying to argue, head tilting back to rest against the cool leather of the couch. Well, this was it. You knew the time was going to come when people found out about you. You just hoped Max would be discreet about what he just figured out.

"You both are so obvious, I'm surprised no one else has picked up on it."

"Fuck." You whisper, worrying your lip before allowing your eyes to dart back to where Lando is now crossing the dance floor with your drink in his hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I won't say anything. Trust me, I know how it feels to have your private life outed before you're even ready to have it all out there."

You glance at Max before your gaze finds Lando again, anxiety bunching in your chest when he sees your worried face and pulls a matching look. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings for him and as someone who had always had trouble not wearing your heart on your sleeve, all of the secrecy was beginning to wear on you. You just knew, deep down, that your parents would never accept you dating someone like Lando, with his reputation with women and lifestyle that was wholly not suited for someone like yourself.

"Everything okay?" Lando asks when he rejoins the table, eyes darting from you to Max. For a moment, as he had crossed the dance floor and saw you leaning in towards Max while he talked into your ear, jealousy flared deep in the pit of his stomach. Why did Max get to be so close to you when he didn't? Why couldn't he show you the affection in public that he got to show you in private?

He knew the answer to those questions, of course. Knew why you wanted to keep your private life private but just like you, he was beginning to feel chafed by all of the sneaking around. He wanted to tell people about you. He wanted to have you in the garage on race weekends and not just because your family had a partnership with McLaren. He wanted you in his garage, wearing his colors, rooting for him. He wanted to see you in parc ferme waiting for him after a win. He wanted to kiss you in public while he was sticky with sweat and champagne and camera's flashed around you. As he crossed the room and watched you cast worried glances at both him and Max, he began to wonder if any of that would be possible.

"Everything is fine!" You chirp, just a bit too happily.

Lando sees right through it.

"Do you want to dance?" He asks, voice low in your ear as he slips into the booth next to you. He idly wonders how far you're going to let him push this and hopes that you'll allow him to distract you from the mood that seems to have settled over you.

Maybe it's the fact that you're tired of hiding or maybe it has something to do with the amount of alcohol you've consumed tonight but something in you breaks at the look on his face. Like Lando so badly wants to be there for you and wants to make sure you have a good time tonight. You know he's reading your anxious posture and wants to fix whatever is bothering you, it's just how he is.

But whatever it is has you throwing caution to the wind and you find yourself nodding. "I'd love that."

Lando smiles like you've just agreed to bestow a knighthood on him and reaches out to take your hand. The VIP area the group is in is set up above the rest of the crowded club so it's possible for you two to fade into the background a little while still being around the people you came with.

"Have I told you that you look absolutely stunning tonight?" Lando whispers in your ear as he pulls you into his body, swaying with the deep bass that thumps through the club.

You can't help the giggle that escapes your lips as your arms snake up around his neck. "A few times, but I'm always open to hearing it a few more."

The temptation to kiss him is so strong, what with the way his curls are just slightly damp from sweat and his black t-shirt is clinging desperately to his toned biceps. You can see it in Lando's eyes too. It's in the way his gaze drops from your eyes down to your lips over and over again. It's in the way his fingers flex into the flesh of your hips, pulling you closer to the heat of his body. It's in the way his eyes darken a bit as he pulls you closer to the outside walls of the club, hiding the way you're clinging to his body from any prying eyes.

It's so dangerous and thrilling all at the same time.

"Your highness, we need to leave." Nathan's deep voice yanks you out of the trance you'd fallen into while in Lando's grasp.

Your head whips around to where Nathan and Dan stand a few feet away, both looking incredibly guilty for having to interrupt. "What? Why?"

You hate the way your questions come out as a whine.

"There were people taking pictures of you two. We think we got everyone of them deleted, but people have started to realize you're here and it's no longer secure. We caught three men trying to sneak into the VIP section saying that they wanted to get photos with you."

Embarrassment washes over you, heating your cheeks. You bury your head in Lando's shoulder, wanting to disappear. You had finally allowed yourself to let your guard down and this was what happened.

"Fine." You sigh, extracting yourself from Lando's clutches.

Nathan does something that surprises you then.

"Do you want to come back with us?" He asks Lando.

Your startle, not prepared for them to help you and Lando sneak around. Next to you, Lando looks equally as surprised. "You...I mean, we're just...fuck." He scrambles, looking frantically from you to Nathan, completely unsure of how to answer that.

While you had been quite certain that your entire security team was aware of you and Lando, he apparently had thought he was doing a better job of sneaking in and out of your townhome than he really was.

"Don't give us that." Dan chuckles from his spot behind Nathan. "We know you two are a thing. Anyone looking closely enough could see that."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. This was the second time tonight you'd been called out for being obvious about your feelings for the driver.

Lando sheepishly palms the back of his neck as he gives you a shrug. "Of course I'm going back with her." He says like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"We'll take her out the front then. Wait five minutes and go out through the kitchen entrance in the back, we'll wait with the car there for you."

Lando nods before reaching out to give your hand a squeeze. "It'll be okay, babe. Let's just get you out of here."

Lando watches Dan escort you from the crowd but reaches out to catch Nathan's elbow before he has a chance to turn as well. "You're not going to tell her parents or anything, are you?" The last thing he wanted was for this to turn into drama with your family just because he wanted to go home with you.

Nathan shakes his head, "Our loyalty lies with the princess, not her parents. If we want her to trust us and allow us to do our job, we need to earn that trust. She's an adult, what she does in her personal life is none of their majesty's business. As long as she's safe, we won't say anything and from what we've all seen, she's safe with you."

Relief floods Lando's system at Nathan's words. "Thanks man."

Nathan nods quickly before turning around and following after you and Dan.

F1GossipandNews posted

F2GossipAndNews Apparently, on Sunday night while partying at the same place where several drivers were celebrating Max's win in Spain, several club goers were approached by 2 men claiming to be employees and forced to delete pictures of a certain papaya driver getting close to an unknown blonde. Not all the pictures were deleted though, dear readers!! We got a few sent into us but none showing the lucky girls face. No one in the crowd seemed to know who it was, but there were several pretty blondes in the VIP section that night, so it could have been anyone! user028 I heard the princess went out with the drivers after the race. >>>user201 she's so fucking boring, I doubt she did. and even if she did, are you saying a guy like Lando Norris would go for an uptight princess like her??? user111 my cousin was there last night and was one of the people who had the pictures deleted. No one could tell who it was, but they were all over each other all night. They didn't leave together though, she saw him duck out the back alone later that night. >>>user002 i wonder if it was that gigi girl from last year. they seemed pretty hot and heavy for a while then she just *poof* disappeared!

Lando pulls you closer to him in bed later that night, the room cool and dark as you struggle to come down from the adrenaline rush of the day. Your back presses into his bare chest as he nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of the hotel's soap that still lingers on your bare skin.

The quiet of the hotel room is a stark contrast to the noise of the club that you two had spent the evening in, but here, you're able to fully relax and allow yourself the luxury of letting down your mask. It's the first time you've been able to do that all day and you cling onto the feeling of just existing in Lando's firm grasp. It wasn't often you two had the chance to spend the night together so when you did, you were determined to savor it.

"I'm sorry your celebration got cut short because of me." You whisper in the darkness, guilt taking a firm grip around your throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about, pretty girl." Lando murmurs in your ear before dropping a few open mouthed kisses on your bare shoulder. "This right here is all the celebration I need."

"I know, but you deserve to be with someone you can go out with in public..." The weight of sneaking around had felt crushing ever since you had picked Lando up in the alleyway behind the club that evening. This was no way to live, you had realized. It was no way to start a relationship and no way to continue one.

Lando tugs at your shoulder so you're forced to shift onto your back. He props himself up on his elbow before giving you a look. "Don't even start going down that road, princess. I deserve you and I'm willing to wait until you decide it's the right time to go public, whenever that is."

"What if there isn't a right time?" You whisper, your chest tightens painfully at the thought.

Lando blinks at you, seemingly knocked off guard by your statement. Were you trying to call this whole thing off? Panic skitters up his spine, unsure of what's going to come out of your mouth next. "What are you saying?"

You shrug, "I just...I'm scared. I'm scared someone will find out. I'm scared that my parents will lose their mind and forbid me from seeing you. I'm scared that you'll wake up one day and realize that being in my life isn't worth the price of admission."

The last one shatters Lando's heart because if only you knew how much he was falling for you, how much time he spent thinking about a future with you, and how much he was willing to sacrifice for you.

"It'll be hard, but baby I'm not going anywhere. I told you, I'm willing to wait as long as you need." He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing the tip of your nose. "Sneaking around is hard but I won't have to hide my girlfriend forever. And when we finally figure out the timing on all of this, I'm never going to shut up about how I'm dating the hottest princess in existence."

"Girlfriend?" You whisper, your brain stalled on the title you'd been dying to get from Lando for weeks now.

Lando blushes before carding his hands through his curls. Whoops. "I mean, isn't that what we're doing here?"

"I just don't recall being asked to be your girlfriend, Norris." You tease gently, leaning forward to nip at his bottom lip playfully.

Lando's grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer. He presses his lips into yours, sliding his tongue across the seam of your mouth so you'll open for him. The exploration is a familiar one, with him having spent many hours learning what makes you sigh, but every time it starts it feels like the first time for him. You feel different from the first time he kissed you, yet wholly the same. Like your DNA had been altered but just in the slightest so only the person closest to you is able to tell.

"Will. You. Be. My. Girlfriend?" Lando punctuates each word with a quick peck before settling back to kiss you deeper.

The thing you can do is laugh in response, smile pressed into his mouth so he knows how happy you are. "Of course." You whisper against him before you allow your lips to skim over his jaw and down the thick roped muscle of his neck.

Lando grabs a handful of your ass in an attempt to pull you even closer but all it does is make you wiggle against him, top leg hitching up over his waist. The groan that starts in the back of his throat when you wrap your legs around him is something feral that makes your spine tingle.

"You feel so good against me." He murmurs into that soft spot behind your ear before biting at your earlobe.

"Need you, Lan." You whimper into the crook of his neck, burying your head there out of embarrassment at how needy you are for him.

"Yeah? What do you need, baby?"

You roll your hips into his in an attempt to show him what you're craving: that sweet drag, in and out, again and again, of his length in you aching pussy.

"You're going to need to use your words, pretty girl." Lando chuckles, bumping his nose with yours when you let out a frustrated sigh.

"I want to feel you. All of you." You pant, cheeks flaming red.

Lando slips his hand beneath the band of your panties, the only thing separating his body from yours. His thick fingers trail down to your already molten center. He chuckles a little against your neck when he reaches his destination. You gasp at the sudden intrusion of the swirling fingers, keening in pleasure.

"Lan." You sigh, biting at the delicate skin of Lando's neck. You were going to leave a mark but Lando would take as many love bites as you chose to mark him with. If he could, he'd tattoo one on him so he'd never have to go without being marked by you ever again.

Lando rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you're forced to straddle him. You grind down onto dick, frustrated that there's still so much fabric keeping you away from him being inside you.

"You are so needy tonight." Lando tuts, scraping his calloused fingers up and down the bare skin underneath his t-shirt you're wearing.

"Missed you all day." You whine.

"Want you to ride me. Show my how much you missed me. Can you do that for me, princess?" His voice is thick and full of gravel, scraping roughly against your already sensitive skin.

With a tap of your hip, he signals for you to rise up a bit so he can slip off his joggers and boxers all at once. When you lower yourself back down Lando sucks in a breath when your slick center swipes against his cock.

"Fuck." He hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

You rock your hips back and forth, enjoying the way Lando sucks in a breath every time you work your hips against him. He wasn't even inside you yet and you were already on the verge of orgasm. Your hands trail up your torso before they settle on playing with your nipples as you bit your lip looking at Lando beneath you.

Lando, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how not to come right then and there before he even got inside you. The sight of you getting yourself off above him was almost too much to take. He knew that once he slipped inside you, filling you to the hilt, he wouldn't last much longer.

"Lando, need you inside me please." Even with you on top, you still deferred to Lando's need to be in control and it sets something feral off in him.

He grips at your hips, "Then ride me like the little slut you are."

The name he calls you sends an unexpected shock through your system, leaving your cunt to grip at the little bit of his dick that had just slipped in. Lando felt it though, knew what had sent your core spasaming against nothing. He grins up at you, devil incarnate with pleasure. "You liked that, didn't you? The proper little princess likes being my proper little whore?"

Lando steals your response from your throat by suddenly dropping you down full on his length in one swift thrust. All you can do is gasp, leaning backwards, hands planted on his legs, to steady yourself at the sudden pleasurable burn that rips through you.

"Oh my God." You gasp, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

Lando's pupils blow wide at the image above him. Your back arched in pleasure as you take him completely. It's a complete mystery as to how he doesn't come on the spot. His hips fuck up into you as you grind down onto him, the way Lando's cock is buried so deep in you something that only seems like a dream. How had Lando lived without you like this in his life? He didn't think he could ever go back now.

"You look so pretty taking me so good, princess." Lando's praise sends liquid fire pouring down your spine. "There you go, use me to get yourself off."

His encouragement has you feeling bold and you reach forward to roll your clit between your fingers, enjoying the double stimulation. Lando's hands continue to guide you back and forth against him as he rocks his hips in and out in a slow drag of steel against velvet.

The tightening in your spine has you gasping around Lando's name. "Don't stop." You beg, getting close to the orgasm you'd been craving all day.

Lando nearly loses it at how fucked out you sound, needing to feel you tighten around him as you come for him. "There you go, princess. I can feel you gripping me so good. Gonna come for me, my pretty little whore?"

The words send you over the edge, orgasm ripping through your body like a freight train. It's all you can do to keep from screaming out, biting down on your lip so hard you taste the metallic sting of blood. Lando follows you over the edge shortly after you tumble, painting your cunt with his release. The warmth that floods between your two bodies is so erotic, you nearly come a third time just from the thought of Lando beneath you.

For several moments, neither of you move. Your spent body is draped over Lando's sweaty one as you curl into him and his heat. "Good girl." Lando praises, kissing the top of your head. "Always so good for me." His voice is thick with emotion, spent from the weight of all that had happened tonight.

You whine at the sudden loss of him inside you when Lando lifts you off. He pads to the bathroom, getting a warm cloth to clean you up, your heart skittering at the after care.

When Lando slips beneath the sheets behind you, he pulls your bare body towards his, wrapping his arm around your waist. Just as you start to slip into the sweet release of sleep, fully relaxed as Lando holds you firmly against him, you swear you hear three whispered words that could change everything.

Your camera roll lately:

Lando’s camera roll lately:

Tag list:

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[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: Mitski, what about me is eternal like the.. moon?

I had so much fun doing this

~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 1:

'Cause my love is mine, all mine I love mine, mine, mine Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love is mine, all mine, all mine

I'm sitting right in front of your cards in utter awe. I got goosebumps when I laid eyes on your cards, pile 1. Let me begin by saying this: you've seen some DARK and truly terrible times, haven't ya? Even as I say this, it feels like an understatement. There have been times when you were stripped down to bare bones, and you had to "grow back the rest of you." I apologize for the gruesome metaphor (but hey, I'm just the messenger; this ain't really coming from me :p). Maybe you've had to encounter times when you felt painfully lonely, stuck in your head and in your general life too, like your spirit was beaten down. Or maybe it felt as if the universe snatched away something you thought was incredibly precious? But I hear that it wasn't what you thought it was; that's why it had to go. You probably didn't see it that way at all, and THAT'S ALRIGHT because we don't have Spirit's perspective, now do we? I see that you really struggled to put yourself together after that somewhat 'impossible-seeming' loss. It seemed like it came outta left field.

BUT GUESS THE FUCK WHAT. You, my friend, took this PAIN and these fucked up times and turned it into a damn palace of gold. You read that right. What's eternal about you? Your alchemy. Your fire. Your willpower. Your ability to take life by the balls. Your refusal to let it beat you to dust. Your refusal to be small. Literal goosebumps, you feeling it yet? It's your connection to God/Source/Universe. Your faith. Your mastery of your mind, babe. Yeah. You've somehow mastered your mind in this process of putting yourself back together. Acknowledge that ish! 'Cause you really did do that.

Nothing can ever get you to stop dreaming, and much less trying to stop you from achieving them, love. You're a powerhouse of energy, and God bless anybody who ever underestimates that (you included side-eyeing you right now). Not you getting low key called out, haha.

Don't get me wrong, though; being a powerhouse of energy doesn't necessarily mean being in everybody's face trying to assert your dominance, y'know? It can look like silent crying in the middle of the night and waking up the next day determined to overcome the thing that made you cry the day before.

Your light is what's eternal about you. It never goes off. Like ever. Your dedication to learning and growing through whatever, and I mean WHATEVER, life throws your way is what will never die, sweetie. It's like a part of your essence at this point. I hope you're proud of that and know that it's what will bring you to your success in life, whatever that looks like for each one of you beautiful ass people reading this :)

Haha, that's so cute; I just heard Spirit go "you're going places, sweetheart" ><

And with that, let's end your FABULOUS, goosebumps-inducing (btw, I don't say that about just ANYTHING), and awe-inspiring reading here.

Thank you, pile 1, for sharing your energy with me today. I love you guys so, so much and… not gonna lie, I'm low key honored to have been in your presence today. Haha, see ya!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 2:

My baby, here on earth Showed me what my heart was worth So, when it comes to be my turn Could you shine it down here for her?

My god, why is there so much happening as I tap into your energy, pile 2? And I mean it in a nice way, though. I heard T Swift's song "The Last Great American Dynasty" as I was shuffling for you, and I heard Spirit go, "she's sweet and salty," lol. We'll see how all that plays into the reading eventually.

The first thing I noticed was your incredible balance within your mind and heart. It's shocking. Maybe you've been working on getting these aspects of yours to agree with one another and balance each other out, or it's simply your personality, but… pile 2, this beautiful mind-heart balance is what's eternal about you, love. Your peace. Your calm. The childlike innocence of your heart blending seamlessly with your mind's unending curiosity for life. Your emotional intelligence. The way you flow… like water, I heard. Wow! I find that so amazing, ugh, like can we be friends, pile 2? T-T, 'cause I definitely need some of that in my life right now, not gonna lie, haha.

There's that AND then there's a whole other dimension to you where you give 'life of the party' vibes as well. OH, so maybe that's why I heard Spirit say "sweet and salty," like two very different things but produce a wonderful taste together. Complex. Addicting. You make people want to come back for more, pile 2. Mmmmmm! Love that!

You have this laid-back vibe to you as well that a lot of people in your life appreciate. I see that your ability to lighten anybody's day is what's eternal about you awwww. I heard "she's the sunshine of my life." UGH, this is too wholesome for my heart; please save me. You seem to really perk up people's day/week or just life in general. You give, like, Saggi vibes, bro. It doesn't matter if you have that in your chart, but it's just your soul. The eternal aspect of you feels bright, expansive, loving, and so vibrant in energy, my god. You've also got strong feminine energy too… you must be really good at attracting 'cause you're strong in your feminine energy AND you're chill and detached from it at the same time. Effortless manifester, master manifester are some words that come to mind as I describe this.

Your divinity is what's eternal about you. Your 'witchy vibes.' Your embodiment of your highest truth. Your commitment to maintaining this divine connection in your day-to-day. Bro, what's eternal about you is that you can turn any old mundane task/thing into something fun and magical and full of meaning and symbolism. You live life deep, and even though there aren't a whole lotta people who can join you there, you wouldn't have it any other way. It's your raw authenticity, babe. Circling back to "The Last Great American Dynasty" song, maybe you're like Rebekah that T Swift sings about, "the most shameless woman this town has ever seen." People tend to call raw, authentic women shameless, but you couldn't care less. You will forever do what you like 'cause you're a free-spirited divine mystic in the body of a teeny lil human. Love it.

That's all I have for you, pile 2. Thank you for spending time with me! I love you so much <3

~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 3:

Moon, tell me if I could Send up my heart to you? So, when I die, which I must do Could it shine down here with you?

Ah, my divine activators. What's eternal about you? Your intensity. BS detection might as well be your middle name. Sherlock Holmes who? 'Cause you're the new detective in town, baby, sniffing out illusions, falsities, fake people, LIES, victim mentality. None of that runs free with you around, I'll tell you that. It's your capacity to hold divine truth, lovingly, which is INCREDIBLY hard, btw. You can't stand half-assed people and people who seem to not have their "heads screwed on straight." Lmao, what kinda people are you surrounded by, pile 3? Ooh, I heard that you're divinely planted where you are so you can activate a lot of people into awakening to their true selves, but it looks like nobody wants to actually awaken. Lmao.

-Side note: My heart goes out to you if you've been surrounded by really difficult and chaotic energies that bring you down a lot. That SUCKS so hard, bro. Been there myself too lately, and it's not a fun merry-go-round to co-exist with. Just keep being your amazing cool-ass self, ok? Things will work out eventually. You already intuitively feel that things will get better, so trust that feeling!-

If I could describe your energy, I would use the Phoenix rising from the ashes symbolism to do so. Ohhhhh, as I told you that, I saw a vision of T Swift's music video of "Look What You Made Me Do," where she comes out of the grave and sings, "Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time." I'm a fan, pile 3. Omg. That's some badass ballsy energy, and I'm so here for it right now. You're the epitome of what psychological death and rebirth looks like. You're the textbook definition. And THAT'S what's eternal about you. No matter where you are or what you end up doing in life, you'll always be able to "rise up from the dead" and do it iconically too. Haha, I literally heard that. Lmao. This ability of yours is an extension of the greater aspect of you - your higher self. Whoa… I just heard you've had this ability for lifetimes and you will take it strongly with you to the next ones as well. Powerful. It's etched in your soul, pile 3. You know what you want and how to get it, even if not immediately; you always do eventually. It's the security you possess within yourself that's eternal, love. Nothing can really shake you at this point. Lmao. You've got a strong-ass foundation.

-Side note: I'm really seeing a healed and fully realized root chakra for you. If you haven't gotten there yet, you're well on your way! Good job! Root chakra work is the most brutal, btw, so… you really have my respect. Haha, moving on-

You have warrior energy present quietly in your personality as well. You give spiritual warrior vibes. You don't prefer to live in it 24/7; it's simply something you tap into when a situation calls for it. Otherwise, I see you being quite heart-centered, full of love, looking at the world with rose-colored glasses. Your inner child is what's eternal about you. Your divine sensitivity and your capacity to hold your emotions without judgment and live big from a place of heart. You embody the energy of water in my eyes, tbh. Life-giving but also destructive if need be, and there's absolutely nothing weak about water. Phew. You are eternal as the oceans are.

Ahhh, pile 3, that was sooo much fun! Thanks for stopping by, and I love you soooo much!

~~~~~~~~~~~

[beiasluv]

forbidden fruit pt.2 | charles leclerc

part 1

a/n: i wrote last part at like midnight, apologies for any typos 💀 enjoyy 🤍

‘y/n l/n and charles leclerc. forbidden love, rival or lovers?’

front line mercedes driver, l/n, and the ferrari driver, leclerc, had been seen having a conversation together before the grand prix in italy…

“y/n, question for you please.”

the conference room. same old same old. lewis, you, and george were seated together in front of thousands of lenses, ready to pick each and every length of your skin just to get a piece of information they could sell to the media.

it was the day before the big race in italy, the media was catching their eyes closely at all the drivers - especially you know which two.

“..yes?”

“about the incident after the qualifying round, what had happened with charles?”

the clicking of the pens and the scratching of the notebooks were starting to get you any minute. clearing your throat you grabbed the mic closer to your mouth,

“i’m sure charles meant no harm..we’re racers..erm…rivalry isn’t the furthest thing from us.”

“are you dating charles, y/n?”

alarms were set off in your mind. it would be a crime if george and lewis couldn’t hear them. you were nothing with charles leclerc. he’s the reddest flag of all. really. you were nothing.

"we," clearing your throat and grabbing your mic closer to your dry lips. "we're not talking on any terms."

smile, y/n. smile for the cameras.

"what are your thoughts on the ferrari team this season? any comments?"

the journalist raised his hands through the crowd, his pen almost fell off his lap from the enthusiasm.

"it was always a challenge to race with any team on the track, ferrari included," you nodded. "the ferrari has a strong car, they are one of the many tough contenders. obviously, every team wishes to win...and so does mercedes," glancing a tight smile at the interviewer who took the answer down the notebook. perhaps a little bit too messy for your driver's head to decipher.

"how about when leclerc saved you? any additional comment?"

"i.."

you caught lewis shifting in his seat; his hands started to calm up together in front of the mic, seated between the three drivers and the whole internet. you could only pray your zoning out was missed by the media and you know who.

if only you could express your infinite pain of being the only female in the male-dominant sport, no paper could ever hold just a nick of the feminine rage pregnant inside you.

how come the only question you got asked was about 'charles,' 'men,' 'dating' and never the sophisticated 'performance car racing' or the ones filled with personalities?

george russell, for the record, your biggest shipper, even chipped in. he pushed the mic closer to his face and looked dead into the camera - if looks could kill - "please, this is a mercedes drivers' briefing."

the tension is sky-high, or you could say: rocket-sky-high. george settled back in his seat as you threw him a quick thankful smile. only god knows what the media is going to make up this time.

'george to the rescue'? bullshit.

"lewis, over here please."

--

"y/n, leclerc's getting aggressive. be careful for an overtake-"

"copy-"

the adrenaline is rushing, flowing, and doing whatever the heck it can in your bloodstream. pushing the pedal as hard as your baby could possibly could, the wind rushed against your face. if it wasn't for the helmet you had on, your face would've been cut like it were a thousand knives thrown at you.

looking to your right you see the infamous red ferrari again, surging with the wind and springing out against the green grass beside the track.

"leave space! you fucking-" you muttered as your fingers tick all the necessary buttons of the formula 1 car in order to keep your position above the ferrari. "what the fuck is he doing!"

praying the car tires could take a bit more, you applied as much pressure you felt comfortable on your baby for the first place behind the checkered end line. you glanced at the body behind the mask of the helmet as you continued to push and pray, push and pray.

if only you knew the ferrari was reciprocating the act.

what was important was you finishing above leclerc - mercedes finishing above ferrari, of course.

"leclerc! y/n! leclerc! who's going to win?! would he complete the overtake?!"

holding on to your steering wheel for your dear life, you saw something of a maroon color rushing to your side. perhaps it was the speed of the car that distorted your vision or was it something in your cheeks?

shut up-

"leclerc! leclerc! leclerc! ferrari have gained another victory home! ladies and gentlemen, charles leclerc!"

"fuck!"

the cracking sound from your radio chimed in your ears - at the worst time possible - "y/n! 0.02 second behind leclerc! P2!"

yeah, thanks. thanks for rubbing it in your face that leclerc had beaten you once again.

"..thanks," slowing your car down against the wind, you came to a halt after the race line; obviously at a considerable distance behind the red ferrari. climbing out and plastering on a fake smile for the media and your beloved fans.

--

the monégasques national anthem was blasted through the speaker throughout the whole podium. any fan knew this song belonged to any of the leclerc and ferrari, for now.

holding your hands in the comfort of in front of you, you tried to remain calm throughout the whole song. nevertheless, your heartbeat was beating fast for the obvious reason after the race.

the shit-eating grin was plastered on the driver standing on P1. can you even blame him? congratulations, you had beaten your rival for the longest time and were placed on P1 while wearing your infamous red suit.

while you were wearing your notorious mercedes's fire suit on your waist, just like all the drivers on the grid (and charles), you grabbed the champagne bottle as the others did so.

"good one, leclerc.”

you sprayed the champagne straight onto the monégasques’s back, maybe it was a little intentional that you shook the bottle a little harder for more pressure of the liquor.

no hard feelings, of course. you only knew his hair was soaked under the cap on his head and the tingling of the bubbles down his neck.

how unfortunate.

charles smirked back as he aimed his half-empty champagne bottle at you, "it's still not a date."

what.?

seeing you in your stunned state, he lowered the bottle to an acceptable level. leclerc cleared his throat and wiped the foam of champagne off his upper lips and chin; looking back with the biggest annoying grin on his face, "congrats on the podium. next race?"

oh, how you wish you could smack his grin off his mother fucking face again. rubbing it into your face.

the media..the media. breathe in, breathe out.

"will do, 16."

--

"congratulations on P2,"

toto patted your back as he entered the mercedes's headquarters. how lovely it is to see his drivers bundled up in his room, once again, after a race 'gone wrong.'

"what is it this time," he sighed as he lowered himself to his chair, not ready to be resigning the team principal position for a therapist for his driver.

the room was your comfort zone, safe to say. the picture of toto's kid, susie, and all of his essentials to complete the job for a team principal. crashing into his room with george wasn't an abnormal thing in your team, nor was it the first time of your career with him.

"they kept asking if you're dating charles, huh?" toto grinned as he faked wipe his mouth for the dramatic effect.

"i'm sick of it-"

the environment of the room shifted - for the better, surprisingly. also. did you mention the fact that this room felt more like a therapy session than a team principal's room?

and. wikipedia got it wrong, it was: toto wolff, team principal and CEO of mercedes, and a part-time therapist.

perfect.

"i'm sure we've put on a great fight," toto nodded towards you, the unspoken tension of the media was killing you inside out.

"i'm sick of the media, toto-"

george shifted next to you on the black sofa, "who knows, they're just trying to write a story out of nothing."

"it'll be the death of me if I have to continuously declare my love life on the internet," resting your head back on the back of the couch you did.

the coldness in the room was cleared by a bit as george snaked his arm around the back of the couch, he whispered into your ear, "you don't have a thing for charles..do you?"

"i hate you."

--

"night, toto. night, george."

bidding toto and george goodbyes, you grabbed your bag from the floor and beeline for the exit door.

the hotel bed is calling your name like a mantra at this point. the race was mentally and physically exhausting, what could be better than a nice, warm bath and a soft bed waiting for you?

the sky was pitch black, darker than your deepest thoughts in solitary, but the pitch was never dark. thanks to the eyes-scorching light to illuminate the track during the night races.

“sup lando..sup daniel”

“good race, l/n.”

walking past a couple of drivers, quick and friendly nods were exchanged as you head for the garage for your beloved mercedes.

and for the love of god, the eyes of the ferrari next to your mercedes were ignited.

how could this get even better?

making your way into the garage, you tried to be as quiet as you possibly could. digging in your purse for the key was a painful ride to ride.

'ah, found it.'

your fingertip dug into the muscle memory as you press the button you hoped was coded with 'unlock.'

fuck.

how gracious of mercedes to make the unlocking sound so loud. so loud that it caught the attention of the ferrari driver. so loud that leclerc's neck flicked towards the sound of your car and you swore you could feel his grin growing.

the second slowed down by a quarter as you seized the handle for the door and swung your bag and body inside the car. perhaps it was not fast enough for the P1 winner today as he made his way next to your car before you could even shut the door. ignoring his steps as he teasingly walked over to his ferrari and played with the key in his hand.

"you put up a great fight for the first place," he grinned. "next time.." he opened his ferrari,

“eyes on the track, l/n.”

"how-...don't you worry about it, leclerc," you scoffed, hiding the beating of your heart. fucking hell- stop beating so fast-

raising his eyebrows in one quick, swift motion, he entered his ferrari, "of course." the driver was fully engulfed by the shadows of the vertical door, but his eyes were still looking into yours, "nice drive today."

"you too."

--

your phone screen screamed it was 2 in the morning, but who cares? the tiktok on your phone was a little more entertaining than seeing charles off the track - okay, maybe a lot less - but the thing so addicting about tiktok was a life mystery for you.

curling up to your side, your phone was plugged into the wall next to your bed, your hand starting to get numb from holding your phone for too long.

asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. you were going to go mad. for the love of anyone, if you see one more edit of charles leclerc on your fyp, you are going to throw your phone out-

honestly, you wouldn't lie that you enjoy an edit of yours once in a while, but hell, charles leclerc..fucking leclerc...who told him that he can look so fucking fine after a horrible race from the ferrari?

you were almost tempted to slam your phone on the nightstand and get some sleep for the night. also. who cares if you wake up late tomorrow?

knock..knock

"oh, come on," you cursed. the audacity to knock at 2 in the morning?

you swung yourself off the comfort of your hotel bed and tiptoed towards the door of your room. your pajama short and oversized t did not help with providing the necessary warmth.

peaking through the cat-eye, you saw the last thing you were expecting.

charles leclerc, in the flesh. he was leaning one of his arms on your door as he was about to raise his hand for another knock.

"gasly! open the door-"

"have a problem, leclerc?"

gosh, you wished you could take a pic of how terrified he looked. shit. was he looking at the unbearable state of yours, or what? short shorts, oversized t, and your hair-

"y/n- i'm-"

squinting your eyes, you adjusted to the light of the hallway, "gasly's not here."

silence engulfed the air between you like a buffet. he continued to stare blankly at you. gosh- could he stop with his dark, green, eyes- fuck. "…leclerc?"

was it the tension or your ears going deaf - you weren't sure - that made you couldn't even hear his - probably lame - excuse of why he knocked at your door at 2 in the fucking morning.

what did matter was the blabbering of his mouth traveled through one ear and straight to the other, just like an f1 car, speeding on any straight path-

"-i think i'm fucking in love with you"

"charles...don't."

charles stopped - his breathing, his steps, his brain, and whatever he could be conscious of. you started - started leaning onto the door, started clutching the other hand to the door blocking the other half of your heart from his.

"what d'you mean 'don't'?" leclerc's mouth was gaped, letting the least amount of air in to keep his heart beating - for you.

retracting your hand, and the door, away from him; you still found his hand in the comfort of over yours, the one that you held onto the door to not fall onto the wooden floor of your hotel room.

every breath you took was a sharp nick on your lungs, but you've managed to heaped out, "i'm sorry, charles-" just in time before your lungs would betray you.

"why?...why?...please-"

"why? -really? why?"

finally regaining the willpower to look back at him, and not cry, you were greeted with his reddened eyes, "what the fuck do you want with me-?"

"you- you could go around and tell me all these nice things in front of my face and- and god knows what you've been calling me behind my back-"

his grip on your hands tightened as he opened his mouth again, but you cut him short- "it drives me crazy- fucking crazy that you act all so nice to me when we've fought our whole lives against each other."

"...what ever happened to all of your loathing glares when i'm on the podium?"

who cares what the sleeping people, ghosts, or whoever the fuck on this floor hears. you were done with cradling your heart as far away as you could from the pitch. it was stupid. fucking humiliating, at least, that you've found yourself back - back at the start.

all the effort to fight for your place on the grid as the only female driver and all of your effort to carry your dignity above all the scandals came crashing down just for a second of your selfish desires. was it so bad to want love from someone who really cares for you all your life?

dancing, kissing, crying, loving. was it so hard to deny when it is literally in front of your fucking face? under the reddest flag of all.

you wished and prayed every day that the races would be over soon so you could stop seeing his shit-eating grin, his eyes, his remarks, his cologne filling the air whenever he walked past.

charles stood in silence, unmoving, as if the time had stopped. if only you knew he was trying- trying to find the right word to express this weird sensation in his brain, his chest, his fucking heart. they all just ended up tangled in italian, frech, and english. mon amour. my life-

"..is that how you really think of me-" he felt slightly betrayed by his wrong tone, but even more by your thoughts.

"you think- y/n- you think i'm just trying to tick you off the podium?"

"..are you?" wiping the tears that betrayed you and escaped from the comfort of your eyes. "look- look at all the headlines- 'mercedes and ferrari.' is this really the- the condition you want to love under?"

"i'll love you under any condition i want," he breathed shakily as he continued to hold the door of your room open. who cares about the ruffled sheet you left or your phone uncharged by the bed?

"there's nothing between us-"

"you have a girlfriend for fuck's sake!"

"it's a PR relationship! and who cares what the media thinks? i'm not doing ferrari any good by confessing my heart raw to you-"

"you think mercedes is getting anything out of this but rumors? i've fought the press for all my fucking life from the scandals inside the pit-"

"this isn't about mercedes, and this isn't about the goddamn media-”

charles ran his hand through his messed up hair, "and I would have thought you knew that..."

"maybe- maybe i don't. maybe i'm too scared to love again. maybe i'm too scared of what would happen if we ended on a bad note. maybe i'm a coward for not wanting to open my heart for you.

-maybe i'm stupid...for you"

"you're not stupid," he said- decreasing the gap between you two, trying his hardest not to reach to wipe your tears.

"we won't work out," you sighed. "we'll focus on our drives, we'll fight, you'll leave."

"please," charles grabbed your waist and pulled you in, once again - you gave in. "i'll make it work."

all your walls came crumbling down as you broke down like a dam on his shoulder. you buried your face onto his chest and gripped his shirt until you didn't care it would crease. a mantra of apologies came out of charles's mouth that you wouldn't even waste an energy to decipher.

his hands found their natural comfort in your lower back, rubbing in lines of traces and tracks you'd spend the rest of your life trying to decipher.

tucking a piece of your hair behind, he kissed all of your tears away. his mustache which had grown since the karting days grazed your skin like they were made for each other. his cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much like an idiot in front of your hotel room..106.

you were still gripping his shirt hard, as he closed the space between your lips and his. it seemed like all of your walls were crushed to the point of no returning; towering over you, he pressed his body against yours like there was no more- like the last lap of the race.

the level of oxygen in your lungs was starting to set off an alarm in your head, but you didn't care. you were kissing the reddest flag of all in the grid and you were not regretting anything.

pulling away for air, he smiled against your lips; sending a wave of breath onto your chin.

"you have a lot to explain to toto."

"i'll have my ways..."

oh my goodnesss. if you like it, please do whatever you want to, I’ll appreciate it 🫶🏻

today’s a great day to take care of yourself, luvv 🤍

tag: @leclerclvr @buendiabebeta @be-your-coffee-pot @al-luvx

[nikkento-writes]

Rub You the Right Way - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~3.0k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – cunnilingus, use of sex toys, cum eating, PIV sex (missionary), breeding and pregnancy kink

Summary: You and Choso are next-door neighbors who are very much smitten with one another. After a month of dirtying up third base as much as possible, the both of you are finally ready to hit it out of the park. 

Author’s Notes: Baseball euphemisms because why not LOL? Thank you for reading! I love these dorks so much! This is the final installment of this teeny tiny series, so thank you all so much for the love and support on this, it means the world to me! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

“Damn, that was good!” Yuji exclaims, licking off the last of the chicken katsu curry from the rim of the bowl. He leans back on one hand, rubbing his belly with the other, a loud belch escaping his mouth. “Oops, sorry,” he apologizes, only a little bit embarrassed.

You giggle, stacking his empty dish on top of the others, standing up to place it in the sink. “I’m so glad you liked it. I couldn’t have done it without your brother, though. He’s a really good teacher.” 

“See, I told you, didn’t I?” Yuji smirks, pleased with himself. 

“It’s not hard to make, especially with the boxed curry mix.” Choso’s voice is bashful, downplaying the praise from both you and his brother. Still, you can sense the tiniest hint of pride in there.

“He’s too modest.” You return to the table to sit next to him, nudging him playfully.

Yuji rolls his eyes. “I know! It’s so frustrating! Seriously, you’ve got to give yourself more credit, bro. You’re awesome.” The blush on Choso’s cheeks are adorably obvious now as he continues to wave off the compliments. 

“Yeah, you really are,” you reiterate, resting your hand on top of his thigh, squeezing him gently. With the table obscuring his view, Yuji can’t see this small gesture, nor does he notice the subtle way Choso reacts, flustered and slightly aroused. He’s been wanting to touch you all night, but not in front of his precious baby brother, who remains clueless to the extent of your relationship. Before you can pull away completely, not wanting to rattle him any further, he hooks his pinky with yours, his grip unyielding. You smile to yourself, the two of you linked together while you chat with Yuji about your plans the rest of the night, which consists of Choso teaching you how to make a lovely castella cake, amongst other not-so-innocent activities. For the sake of Yuji’s virtue, you decide to leave that part out. 

It's been over a month now that you and Choso started your relationship after that unfortunate package mix-up, which ended up not being unfortunate at all. By total accident, you unboxed his brand spanking new Cock Sucker 3000, and in a bizarre attempt to alleviate any awkwardness from the situation, you proceeded to use your own sex toy in front of him while he demonstrated his, resulting in the hottest night of your life. Two days following that, after another ridiculous misunderstanding, the both of you realized your feelings for one another and decided to give this a shot. 

You’ve learned so much about him, most importantly that he’s quite the fragile soul, often distrusting of strangers right off the bat. The last thing you want is for him to lose his trust in you, so taking it day-by-day, little-by-little, is what works the best for the both of you. The two of you have remained on third base when it comes to sex, which you’re not complaining about one bit, considering how voracious you’ve been with each other. You’re waiting for the right time to finally hit that home run, a grand slam at this rate. It could happen tonight, tomorrow, maybe even a few more months from now. All you know for certain is that you’re happy with Choso, and he’s happy with you. That’s all that matters.

However, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t fantasizing about it already. You can’t help yourself when you’re with him. In front of others, he’s usually more reserved, timid. Alone with you, his confidence unveils. His touches are assured all over your body, an expert at all the big and little ways to make you moan in pleasure. The range of expressions he’s willing to show you, from unabashedly needy to absolutely feral, make your body tingle just thinking about it. And that voice, sweet and soft when he’s coaxing you, then to that sexy, gruffy tone as he ravishes you, whether it’s with his fingers, his mouth, his firm grip on the vibrator. It’s no shock that you’ve imagined the perfect way he’d slide into you, filling you up to the brim with his massive cock. Hell, you’ve admitted it to each other several times already, how badly you both want it, how good it’d feel to be bounded together as one. You keep reminding yourself to be patient, because when it does happen, it will be well worth the wait. 

The three of you hang out a while longer until Yuji announces that he’s leaving to get ready for a party with his friends. Choso gives his brother a big hug, handing him a small bag of leftovers to take with him back to his university apartment. “Don’t party too hard this weekend,” he warns him sternly, sounding like a protective parent. “Behave yourself. Don’t make Fushiguro take care of you and Kugisaki again.” 

Yuji beams at him. “Megumi likes taking care of us! That’s his idea of fun!” He looks at you, a mischievous grin on his face. “You two behave yourselves too, alright? Don’t forget to use protection.” 

Shit. Okay, so maybe he does know.

Choso stiffens, an uncomfortable noise gurgling in his throat, clearly stunned by Yuji’s remark. You let out a loud and nervous laugh, desperately trying to play it cool, though you two idiots couldn’t make this any more obvious. “We’re just making castella cake, remember? We’re not having sex at all! Just some good clean fun here, nothing naughty! Right, Choso?” You’re so frazzled that you accidentally kick your boyfriend a tad too hard in the ankle, enough for him to yelp. “Right, Choso?!”

Sweat beads on your forehead while he bumbles incoherently now, failing to his explain your bizarre reactions to his younger brother, who just stands there, very pleased with himself. “Oh, I meant oven mitts,” Yuji smiles innocently, completely unfazed. “You know, for your hands.” He turns on his heel to see himself out while Choso continues to gape at him. “See you two lovebirds next week!” he calls out from over his shoulder, waving until he’s out of sight.

Choso unclenches to close the door while you bury your face in your palms, ashamed of yourself. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

He surrounds you in his sweet embrace, relaxed and actually laughing. “At least you said something. I just stood there like an idiot.”

You peer up at him, pouting at him. “You’re not an idiot, take it back.”

“I take it back,” he relents, giving you a kiss on the forehead. 

Nuzzling your nose to his, you mention, “I guess that was our way of telling him, right?”

“I had a hunch he already knew,” he responds. “Yuji’s no dummy. He was already telling me stuff a few weeks ago.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, he was the one who told me to be friends with you. He’s even the one who first suggested inviting you to our family dinners.”

Your heart swells in your chest. “Really?”

He nods, a kind smile on his face. “Yeah. Yuji is a sweet kid, so I figured he was just being polite. But maybe he sees you and me being…y’know.”  

You smirk, giddy to hear the rest of his sentence. “What?”

His voice is quiet, shy from the sudden vulnerability he’s displaying. “A good fit? I don’t know, what do you think?” Despite all that’s happened between the two of you within a month, Choso still has his doubts, his insecurities. The last relationship he had ended because he caught his ex cheating. From then on, he’s been reluctant to let his guard down and trust someone with his heart again. You don’t blame him for being so cautious when it comes to love, so you do everything in your power to validate his emotions, reassure him that you care for him just as much as he cares for you. 

You hold him close, your heart thumping at a rapid pace. “I think we’re a perfect fit.” 

He swallows down whatever nerves were tightening in his throat, relieved to hear you say it, even though he’s never doubted your true intentions. Hearing it in your voice, seeing it in your kind eyes gives him the strength to tear down all the walls he’s built around himself to let you in. Inching closer, voice still quiet, he asks, “Can we…?”

You don’t let him finish his thought as you lean forward to press your lips to his. His arms squeeze you in a tighter embrace, nearly lifting you off your feet as he kisses you passionately. Your mouths move seamlessly together, his hands gliding smoothly along your waist, yours gently caressing his face, proving that the two of you are the perfect fit indeed. There’s dishes in the sink waiting to be washed, a castella cake waiting to be baked, but who are you kidding? This is what you need right now, to have Choso’s body on yours, to taste him, to devour him, completely lose yourself in him. And that’s exactly what he needs too. 

The two of you make your way inside his bedroom, not letting the other go for even a second, kisses sloppy now, all tongue and spit. He’s quick to undress you, palms moving evenly beneath your blouse. You stretch your arms up, letting him remove it completely, his eyes fixated on your breasts, still covered by your bra. He squeezes at them, his grip firm, thumbs brushing across your nipples. Desperate to feel him without this extra layer of clothing, you turn around, wanting him to unhook the clasp, which he does. His lips graze you, peppering soft kisses along your shoulder while he pinches at your nipples with the perfect amount of pressure to have you moaning. “You love it when I play with your tits like this,” he whispers, mouth hot on your ear. It isn’t a question; he says it with confidence, bordering on cockiness with the way he smirks at every little whine that escapes you. You love this switch from shy and sweet to bold and unashamed, always eager to fulfill his sexual appetite for you. 

“I do,” you answer breathlessly, his cock hard and throbbing between your ass cheeks as you grind against him. “You know I do, baby.”

“Fuck, I love it when you call me that,” he groans, sucking on your ear lobe. One hand travels past your navel, tugging at your waistband. 

Your crane your neck to meet his lips. “You’re my baby. You’re all mine, Choso.”

He moans into your mouth, lapping at your tongue. “Yeah, I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

You slide out of your pants, leaving your panties on, the silk ones he adores on you. On the bed, you lie on your back, watching him strip the rest of his clothes off while he towers over you, licking his lips when he positions in his head between your spread legs. He’s been indulging in this recently, eating you out through your panties, getting them soaking wet with his spit and your slick. His gaze meets yours, those typically kind eyes hiding something feral brewing inside him. He’s masterful with his tongue, spreading it wide on your clit, puckering his lips around you until you’re squirming. You grab hold of his head, grasping strands of his soft hair as he devours you. 

As if this wasn’t enough for him, he hums into your skin, pointing at the bedside drawer. He doesn’t have to say it; you already know what he wants. You’ve made it a habit now to keep a few of your sex toys at his place, including your most favorite vibrator, the same exact one you demonstrated for him when all of this first started. It soon became his favorite too. You pass it to him shakily, already at the edge, ready to burst any second. He takes it, holding the tip to your covered clit, the fabric properly drenched now. The vibrations start instantly as he pushes the button, causing you to jolt from the sensation. “Fuck!” you cry out, toes curling, knees wobbly. “Please, Choso.”

“Please what?” he teases, stroking his cock with his free fist. 

“Please take them off,” you beg, writhing below him.

He smiles wickedly, hooking the waistband of your underwear, slowly peeling them off you. “That’s my good girl.”

You kick them off frantically, immediately spreading yourself for him once more. “Hurry, baby,” you whine. 

With the vibe still buzzing in his hand, he leans down, giving you a wet smooch on your clit, then presses the fluttering tip to it. Pleasure radiates from your core to every limb of your body and you eventually reach your first climax of the night. 

“God, I love how fucking wet you get,” Choso moans, licking up and down your slit, savoring your orgasm. “So fucking sexy. Makes me want to come.” Precum leaks from the tip of his dick as he jerks himself faster, lips coated in your arousal as he continues to use the toy on you while drinking every drop of you up. 

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,” you say, trying to catch your breath. It’s both too much and not enough. The vibrations are relentless on your clit, his tongue hot and wet on your pussy. You’re drunk off this, head light as air, vision getting hazy. Drool spills from one side of your lips, losing control of your composure as you succumb to yet another orgasm, this time, with two of his fingers inside you. 

“So greedy,” he grins, his cock stiff against his abdomen. He takes his digits out of you, spreading your cum on his shaft. “You want more, sweetheart?”

You reach for his cock, desperate to have him fully inside you. “I want all of you.”

His demeanor changes at this, almost like you’ve said the magic words. He swallows nervously, stopping the toy and setting it aside. “Are you serious?”

You smile, nodding at him. “I want all of you, Choso. But if you’re not ready – ”

“I’m ready.” It stumbles out of his mouth in a rush, as if he’s been meaning to say it for a while now. “I want you. I always want you.”

“You have me.” You tug him towards you, wrapping your arms and legs around him, nuzzling your nose to his. “You’ll always have me.” 

He kisses you, humming softly against your lips. “You’re amazing,” he whispers, tapping the tip of his dick on your swollen clit. 

You twitch at his touch, already sensitive from earlier, but still so needy to be filled by him. “Hurry,” you beg him, gyrating your hips, losing your patience. 

“Condom,” he mutters, reaching towards your nightstand, eyes focused on how close his cock is to being inside you. 

You snap yourself out of whatever dangerous desires are playing through your head and nod in agreement, stretching your arm out to open the drawer, blindly retrieving the box of condom wrappers and small bottle of lube. With trembling fingers, he unwraps the condom, rolling it over his cock, coating a generous amount of lube on it. He eases inside you, both of you moaning as you stretch around him perfectly. When he’s to the hilt, he stays still for a moment, kissing you fervently, so happy to finally be connected with you like this. “Is this good?” he asks, always adorably concerned about you. 

You giggle, hugging him tighter. “It’s amazing baby.”

Reassured, he starts thrusting, pulling out ever-so-slightly to pound right back inside you. You squeeze every inch of him as he fucks you deeper, fighting the urge to come on the spot. It’s so damn good, too fucking good, like he’s on this euphoric high, impossible to come down. He can’t believe how incredible this feels, even with the condom on, and it makes him want to burst thinking about the near future when he’ll have a chance to do you without it. How pretty you’d look with his cum spilling out you. That fucked-out expression on your face as you beg him to breed you. The gorgeous belly when you’re pregnant with his baby...

Choso has to physically shake his head to rid these obscene fantasies from his thoughts. He really can’t help himself when he’s with you. Grunting with each thrust, he resists the temptation to pull this condom off to give it to you raw, reminding himself that patience is a virtue and that the two of you have all the time in the world.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to come. As soon as you’re right at the edge of your third climax of the night, you cry out, “Right there, baby! Fuck me right there!” holding him tight as you spill all over his cock. He comes as soon as you finish, certain that if you weren’t using protection and assuming you’re currently ovulating, he’d surely get you pregnant with how fucking intense this load was. Choso pulls out, carefully pulling off the condom, taking a couple of seconds to marvel at all the cum you managed to draw out of him. You laugh, watching him as he ties the open end to toss into the nearby trash bin. “Is it a lot?”

He snuggles up next to you, nuzzling his nose to your neck, back to his precious puppy-dog cuteness. “If we weren’t using protection, it would have definitely gotten you pregnant.”

You joke, “And is that a bad thing?”

He rests a hand on your stomach, his touch tender and sweet. “Not at all. I wouldn’t mind raising a little baby with you.”

Normally, you’d freak out. Normally, Choso would freak out. But for some odd reason, the idea of sharing a future together, of raising a family together, seems right. And while it’s only been a month, you’re both confident that the two of you will be spending a long, healthy, loving life with each other. 

Choso’s phone vibrates on the nightstand, rousing the two of your from your post-coital snuggle session. When he reads whatever notification he’s received, he chuckles, turning the screen towards you, displaying a text message from Yuji:

So…how’s that castella cake? ;)

He types up a quick reply before putting his phone on silent to spend the rest of the night cuddling you uninterrupted. 

Absolutely perfect.

[sturniolos-blog]

Interrupted Video - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - fluff, cute, swearing, arguing

requested ‼️

disclaimer: third person POV. This takes place at the triplets house but just know Matt is only there with Estrella since Y/n is out of town.‼️‼️

Important: let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list, people who are on my taglist get added too the end of each of my fics!!

—————————

8:48pm

“Matt, stop walking around, you’re bumping into shit!” Nick yelled at his brother, headphones on his head playing music.

Chris let out a frustrated groan into the tape he had over his mouth, Matt mixing cake mix while getting some on the table.

“You aren’t talking to me, how the fuck am i supposed to do this!?” Matt yells, his hands being thrown up in the air.

Nick starts dancing to music playing on his headphones, Chris trying to get his attention as he does a spin.

“What!?” Nick yells as he sees Chris pointing at Matt. Nick looks and sees Matt spilt have of the batter on the table.

“Matt, what the fuck are you doing!?” Nick yells, Chris sighing and shaking his head.

Matt immediately drops the spoon and slams his hands down onto the table, him letting out an anxiety breath as his hands barely miss the batter he spilled.

Suddenly he feels a soft slap on the back of his thighs.

“What the fuck are you guys doing!?” Matt yells, already stressed out enough.

“Dada! Dada!” A small voice calls out, Matt recognizes the voice of his 1 year old daughter.

A smile gets brought to Matt’s face as he reaches around his head to take the blindfold off, setting it on the table before leaning down and picking Ella up.

“Hey, baby..” He whispers as her arms go around his neck.

Nick sighs and takes off his headphones before Chris takes off the tape on his mouth letting out a small ow.

Nick goes to turn off the camera, “Matt-” Chris starts but gets cut off by Matt.

“We can finish the video later, right? Excuse me, i need to put my daughter to bed.” Matt says, slight frustration still hinted in his voice.

Nick shrugs and Chris nods.

“Alright, sweet girl.” Matt whispers as he starts to walk towards his room that he still had at his brothers house, since Y/n was out of town he brought Ella with him to stay with him at his brothers.

Matt walks in the room, closing the door behind him.

He knew he’d have to get her tired first, Y/n was always good at this part but he’d have to manage.

He sits down on the bed with her, him up against the head board as Ella rests on his chest, her facing the tv.

“Shit..” He mutters to himself as he realized he forgot to grab a bottle.

As he goes to get up the door opens, revealing Chris and Nick, Nick was holding a warmed up bottle of milk as Chris was holding Ella’s dinosaur plushy.

Matt lets out a sigh of relief, sitting back down comfortably and smiling at his brothers as they walk over.

“Here, Ellie.” Chris says as Ella takes the dinosaur plush with him, Ella kicks her feet and lets out a laugh as she holds her Dinosaur plush up to show Matt.

“I see it, baby! How cool!” He laughs, kissing her forehead as she plays with it.

Nick then hands Matt the bottle of milk.

“Thank you guys..” He says, taking the bottle. Matt clears his throat, “Sorry that i got so frustrated, it’s just been hard with Y/n being gone for almost 2 weeks already.” Matt apologizes.

“You don’t have to apologize, we get it, bro.” Chris comforts.

“Yeah, you’re good, Matt. We can finish the video later.” Nick smiles.

Matt nods before his brothers leave the room, shutting the door behind them.

Ella then grabs the bottle from Matt, dropping her dinosaur plush on the bed so she can hold the bottle on her own.

Matt leans over to grab the remote to his tv off his nightstand, turning it on and clicking through kids channels.

“Whatcha wanna watch, sweetheart?” Matt says, holding her with one hand.

As expected Ella doesn’t say anything, continuing to drink her milk.

Matt shrugs, “Spongebob it is.” Before he puts the remote back on his nightstand.

—————————

9:03

After about 15 minutes, Estrella gave her bottle to Matt before turning around in his grip and resting her head into the crook of his neck, starting to close her eyes and fall asleep.

As about 5 more minutes pass Matt hears soft snores coming from Ella, that’s his cue to go put her in the small crib that he put in this room, knowing that Estrella and him would probably spend the night there.

As Matt goes to put her in, Ella jumps up from her sleep, she lets out a whine, not letting go of Matt as she almost starts to cry.

“Ella, come on, baby.” Matt says, but she lets out one cry, Matt knowing that if she started she wouldn’t stop.

Matt sighs, picking her back up fully and bringing her back to his bed. “Okay, one night, don’t tell mommy.” He says, climbing in bed with her and laying her down, putting pillows on the other side of her as he lays down on his side.

Ella lets out a huff before rolling over onto her belly, sticking her tongue in her mouth.

Matts hand goes to her back, watching as his daughter falls asleep.

He rubs her back at a slow soothing pace. Her letting out quiet hums of content.

Matt eventually fell asleep too, let’s just say that video did not get done tonight.

—————————

alrighttt i am done i hope you guys liked this one i thought it was cute and fluffy and giving matt daddy vibes (literally) hope you liked it!

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Steve Rogers

Summary: It's only your first day on the job. That's way too soon to have an office crush. Right?

Warnings: Workplace stress and bullying. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Part 1

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Bucky sits across from Steve, a cocky smile on his face. Steve raises an eyebrow and Bucky says, "I gave her my number." Steve doesn't know that it wasn't about a date, but he doesn't have to know.

"You didn't."

"I did," Bucky smirks. "Which means, it's your turn."

"It's...it's not the same," Steve tries to argue. "You've known your Sweetie for months now, right? This girl is still a newbie. She's barely been here a month!"

"Deal's a deal, Punk," Bucky shakes his head. "One of us gives our number, the other one has to as well."

Steve's cheeks are incredibly pink from embarrassment. He's never been good at flirting, always stumbling over his words. Sure, his body attracts attention, but inside he's still the scrawny kid who always got laughed at when he tried to talk to a girl. Especially a girl as sweet and pretty as you.

The two of you had run into each other in one of the break rooms a few times. Every time Steve talked with you, he found himself getting lost in your eyes, but that led to him not knowing what you were saying. His face would turn red and he'd quickly run out of the room. Another time you'd complimented his art and he got scared you'd see one of the drawings he did of you so he quickly closed his book and you felt bad, like you had overstepped.

And now, thanks to Bucky, Steve needs to admit he'd like to spend more time with you. Admit that he thinks about you every day. Admit that he likes you. He can do this, right?

You were crying in the ladies room for the third time since you were hired. There was so much, so fast and your coworkers were already blaming you for things. Especially things you didn't even know were your responsibility. No one had told you or shown you how to do them but they still blamed you! It's not like you were entirely new to this kind of work, but the systems were very different and, most importantly, you didn't know what was and wasn't part of your job because they hadn't told you! When you finally calm down, you head to the sinks and wash your face, trying to hide the tears.

As you tiptoe back to your cubicle, trying not to draw attention to yourself, you end up literally running into Steve, the dreamy guy from the IT Department. He manages to catch you before you fall, bringing you in for an accidental hug. You find yourself instinctively hugging him back, squeezing him tight.

"Are...are you okay?" Steve isn't going to complain about being hugged by you, but he's worried you're not in your right mind.

"Oh, sh-shoot," you break the hug and jump away. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...I'm just..." you fight a resurgence of tears and run to your cubicle. When you get there, Maggie, your least favorite new coworker, is glaring at you, arms crossed.

"Really, Newbie," she admonishes, "you've been here a month and you still don't know how to update the most basic fields in the database?"

"I...every person does it diff--"

"Enough!" she cuts you off. "Really, you should be able to do this. You're killing our metrics!"

"I'm...I'm sorry," you hang your head, trying to not cry again. "I keep getting told different things about how to do the updates."

"Empty apologies and excuses!" Maggie retorts. "I don't know why you got hired. You're bringing us---"

"Margaret," Steve interrupts her. You jump, not realizing he had followed you. "Tell me, Margaret, how do you think your boss would react if he knew you'd been spending half your day on Facebook?"

She fumes at both of you for a minute before going back to her own cubicle.

"I really wish you hadn't done that, Steve," you whisper. "I'm already on their sh-crap list. This is only going to make it worse."

Steve takes a breath, "you're right, I'm sorry. I just really hate bullies."

"Me too," you nod. "But right now I've gotta make these bullies happy, okay?"

"It's not okay," Steve shakes his head. "But I promise I'll be more careful."

"Thank you."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly

[vee6lolz]

𝖇𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝖍𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝖇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬.

summary; after falling in love with spencer reid, you navigate the challenges that come with your relationship. While you cherish your moments together, the rough patches can be hard to ignore. One day, in an effort to find clarity, you go shopping and unexpectedly discover something world shattering. But before you can share the news with Spencer, he comes home with a shocking revelation that could change everything between you.

cw!!; +18 content, minors dni!, spencer reid x reader, angst, cliffhanger ending, breakups, mentions of drug use, mentions emetophobia warning; vomiting -- mentions of pregnancy -- Y/N HAS A GIRL KISSER BSF !

. w/c: 4.1k -- don't forget to like / reblog !! this is not proof read + english is not my first language

You and Spencer had been privately dating for seven months. At first, it was exciting. sneaking around, leaving parties early to go hook up in the bathroom, the birthday sex, apology sex, apology for apologizing with sex sex, it was easy, it was simple—you both met through a party he and his team was invited to by your best friend Ciara, who was friends with the one and only Penelope Garcia. you both got to talking and by the end of the night, you were snuggled up in his bed with his dick in your mouth. and he learned two things that night. 1. he had never had head that brought him so much ecstasy. and two, by the way your outgoing demeanor fit perfectly with being his more shy and non-direct, you were the one for him and he would've been a fool to let you slip through his fingers. those late-night study sessions, stolen kisses in dimly lit hallways, and quiet moments over coffee made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. but the moment that you hit the three month mark, everything went downhill. and usually, at six months, its supposed to be good again, right? wrong.

the past few months had turned into a whirlwind of arguments. It felt like every time you talked, it spiraled into a fight over something that should have been minor. “You don’t understand what I’m going through, Spencer!” you yelled one evening after a tough day at work where he seemed more focused on the case than on how you were feeling. “I do, understand [y/n] I just don't care. Not everything has to be about you.” that night, you both had shouted over each other until the early hours of the morning, hearts racing, voices raised, and emotions running high. the tension felt suffocating. and to ease it you tried to have makeup sex, and he started an argument while literally inside you because he felt like you were faking orgasms and doing it in a obvious way to make him feel bad; you were.

It wasn’t just work stress that fueled the fire; it was the pressure of hiding your hardships relationship from your colleagues, the weight of lying to your friends, and the constant fear of him leaving. and the fear of you leaving for him only made him resent you more. sometimes, it felt like you were living a double life, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between your love for Spencer and the isolation that secrecy brought. the make-up moments after the fights were fleeting, filled with hugs and quiet apologies as you tried to mend the shaky ground you were standing on. you’d find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, promises lingering in the air that things would change, but deep down, you both knew nothing had really shifted.

but today, everything felt heavier than usual. you had woken up to yet another silent treatment from spencer, both of you too stubborn to reach out to each other first. the anxiety had burrowed deep in your chest, making it hard to breathe. you could sense it—Ciara had noticed. when she came over, she was met with a hurried and agitated spence who only muttered a cold greeting before walking out the door as fast as he opened it for her. her footsteps where light and quick, making her way towards your bedroom where she heard retching and coughing.

you spit into the toilet bowl, groaning in discomfort as everything you had last week came back to haunt you. you looked up at Ciara as she held your hair back, getting her fingers tangled as she took a moment to try her best to untangle them without scalping you. You sat there in front with your head down as you dry gagged, and once you were safe, you reached up and flu shed the toilet.

Ciara rubbed your back for a little before pulling your head to rest on her chest, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. you giggle at the sensation and make tsk sounds. “If you were a man,” you muttered, to which she rolls her eyes at you and lets you go with a smile, helping you stand up, she runs some water so you pat your mouth with it and spit out all the yucky residue left over. she starts asking questions and all you can think back at was this morning. it pained you and you felt your heart sink the more you thought back at it, you realize that him expressing his feelings, yelling, insulting, or even cursing you would've been better. he just left you, in silence. he didn't acknowledge you, and it just made you feel terrible. you looked at Ciara, overcome with emotions which got you a confused look. “What's going on with you--”

“He didn't even look at me, cee.” You muttered as tears filled your eyes uncontrollably. your emotions overwhelmed you as you melted into her arms, you were holding her incredibly tight, she probably wouldn't be able to breathe if you gave her an oxygen tank. She scrambled over her words trying to find away to not pass out from the lack of blood going to her brain because you were quite literally blocking any blood flow possible. She tapped your back and you released your death grip, to which she exhaled heavily.

“Who, What? What are we talking about?”. you stared up at her with a expression of depression, not moving your lips to answer her question. It gave her the answer alone. “That's not... like him.”. Scoffing, you shook your head and wiped your tears, your mood switching from self-pity to pure and undeniable anger. “It's exactly, like him. Actually.”. She tried her best to calm you down but you couldn't, you just walked out of the bathroom and fell face first on the bed, screaming and letting out all of your frustration on his cotton sheets. You started mumbling out of intense anger, and Ciara just stood there, flinching with every curse that flew through your lips as if you were going to reach backwards and bite her.

It took you twenty-and-some minutes to calm down. It took you three to go back to being sad and depressed. Your mood swings were seriously giving her whiplash. You sat up and heaved, sobbed, flew your arms around like a toddler. Ciara sat with you and let you sob on her chest until you start hyperventilating, she blew on your face so you could catch your breathe, shushing you to soothe your tears. Your brain felt fuzzy, your senses has softened.

The only thing that you felt was the immense pounding on your head you couldn't help but feel. “How about we go on a little drive, yeah?” you looked up at her with your red eyes glistening was a tear fell down your cheek, you nodded. you needed fresh air. “Yeah?” She spoke in a soft voice, kissing your head. “Alright go put on some clothes ill be out here,”

Ciara sat behind the wheel, the engine humming softly as she pulled away from spencer's place. The cool breeze wafted through the slightly open window, sending a refreshing shiver through you. You let it wash over you, momentarily grounding you in the present. Still, your mind felt fuzzy, caught in a haze that blurred your thoughts and emotions. It was as if you were floating, untethered from reality, with everything around you blurring into a muddled backdrop.

the streets rushed by, and while the world outside was alive with the chatter of people and the vibrant colors of storefronts, you found yourself lost in your own silence. You stared at the trees lining the road, their branches dancing in the breeze, but even their movement felt distant and out of reach. each passing moment felt like an echo, reverberating through your mind but leaving no traces of clarity.

Ciara’s was talking, filled with energy and it made you feel oh, so worse because you were not listening. “No, dude, I'm being so serious. I told her that she can either get her shit together and stop acting like a little kid or she can pack her shit and leave because I've had enough crazy girlfriends to know it is not for the fucking weak.” you barely registered the words. they floated in one ear and out the other, your focus remaining hazy. you shifted in your seat slightly, trying to push the swirling emotions away, yet they clung to you like a shadow.

“You’d think we were fighting we were fighting over me burning her house down, no. A miss call, a singular miss call and I called her back immediately. And of course, she chose to get her act together because... honestly, would you leave me?” she joked, grinding in her seat to pop her ass a little;

the corners of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t have the energy to respond; the effort felt monumental. As the scenery shifted from commercial buildings to the broader expanses of the mall, you caught yourself wishing you could feel that lightness again. The breeze slipping through the window felt nice, but every now and then, a wave of discomfort coursed through you, reminding you of the things you were trying to forget.

Ciara continued talking, sharing the latest gossip, her voice a steady stream of sound that mingled with the whoosh of passing cars. “and after that, she tried to hookup with me as an “apology”. if she could lick my pussy a couple times and I'm going to immediately forgive her... she's right.”

Still, you remained silent, lost in thought. The feelings swirling within you were too tangled to unravel—the confusion, the sadness, the weight of it all. It felt heavy, and as you drove closer to the mall, the world outside turned brighter, but for you, it remained shrouded in dimness.

As Ciara pulled into the parking lot, the chaotic colors of the mall surrounded you. She parked the car, casting a glance your way. “Alright, no talk of Spencer with the little dick while we're here alright?”

You nodded slowly, but your mind was still a storm of thoughts and emotions that had yet to settle. The sounds of laughter and footsteps filled the air as you stepped out of the car, but even amidst the noise, you felt like you were still floating, caught between what was real and what was just a distraction.

“There's no reason to lie to make me feel better,”, she laughed.

as you and Ciara stepped into the mall, the vibrant atmosphere enveloped you like a cocoon, yet the comfort it should have provided seemed out of reach. the air hummed with energy: laughter echoed against polished floors, the shuffling of bags blended into an excited chorus, and the enticing aromas of popcorn, pretzels, and fried food wafted through the space, each scent calling to a desire for comfort that you just couldn’t find.

you glanced around, taking in the kaleidoscope of people—the families with cheerful children, groups of friends chatting animatedly as they moved, and couples entwined in conversation. Yet, as the cheerful masses moved past, a heavy discontent settled within your chest, a constant nagging feeling that wouldn’t let up. Your thoughts were tangled, fighting the urge to not talk about spencer.

the urges whooped your ass.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how dramatic Spencer has been lately,” you began, shaking your head as you ambled towards the escalator up to victoria's secret each step feeling heavier than the last. You reached for a sleek top on a nearby rack, your fingers brushing the fabric as you stated, “He didn't even tell me what his problem was this time, Ciara. He's like a fucking kid,”

Ciara nodded, her attention shifting between you and the vibrant clothes on display. “He's exactly like Manny. You know if you were a lesbian, I'm pretty sure you would've been with her by now.”

"Har-har." you let out a fake laugh, pulling the top closer to you and inspecting it in the harsh fluorescent lights. “and its not like I don't fuck with him. Of course I do, but its only okay when I do it! and i never do it first.”

She stared at you.

“Okay, I mostly never do it first.”

you stepped into the fitting rooms, pulling aside the curtain with a little more force than necessary. Ciara leaned against the wall outside, concern evident in her eyes. “Well, it sounds like he’s really going through something. I mean the last time he had a girlfriend was years ago, plus she did get shot in front of him. Maybe, just maybe... he needs time to adjust to having you.”

“It's been 6 months, how much time does he need.” you admitted, slipping into a pair of jeans. “I’m trying to support him, but at the same time, it feels like whenever I need support I'm the 'crazy' one.”

you spun in front of the mirror, checking the fit, and briefly appreciated the outfit, but the satisfaction was fleeting. You couldn’t shake the gnawing frustration and worry that lingered in your mind. After trying on a few more items, you settled on a cozy sweater that draped nicely over your shoulders and a pair of jeans that tugged your ass and thighs perfectly.

Stepping out of the fitting room, you caught sight of Ciara’s bright smile—a thumbs-up that fueled a flicker of confidence despite the dark cloud of your thoughts. “You look great! Food?” she chirped, her enthusiasm piercing through your fog. “I look like I got fat, but, yes.” you giggled.

“Yeah, only in the right places.” she replied, leaving a quick smack on your ass. the idea of food felt foreign to you, your appetite making you uneasy. and the more you thought about it, you weren't really prone to gaining weight. in the last eight weeks, you've gained almost seven pounds. even as you walked toward the food court, the excited chatter and laughter felt like a cruel reminder of the happiness you were struggling to hold onto with Spencer.

as you navigated through the chaos of the food court, the aromas wrapped around you, each scent competing for your attention. You scanned the options—pizza, burgers, Asian stir-fry, sizzling hot dogs—but as much as your stomach wanted to respond, it remained cold and distant.

Ciara and you eventually settled on a plate of asian food. You found a table, and despite the enticing food in front of you, the heaviness in your chest pulled you down, dimming your appetite further.

while Ciara was talking about her sex life, your own thoughts lingered on Spencer: his hands, the way his mind worked like a finely tuned machine, how he would

“when I tell you she had me bent in ways I can't say out loud because I would be put on some kind of list--” Ciara’s words finally broke through the fog in your mind, and you looked at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “I feel… weird.”

Ciara’s smile faded, concern etching itself across her face. “What do you mean weird? ”

The discomfort swelled inside you as the weight of your stomach pressed down further. “I don’t know. It’s just everything… ugh. I really don’t feel good.” The admission felt heavy on your tongue, yet fear flooded through you, mingling with confusion and anxiety.

“Hey, [y/n] uh--” Ciara said, her voice laced with concern as she leaned closer, trying to draw you back into the moment. “Breathe, okay? Just uh--”

her voice did no help, the world around you began to tilt, the bright lights and laughing voices tuned out as your vision began to blur. A rising wave of dizziness crashed over you, swallowing every sense until you felt on the verge of vanishing into the void of darkness.

before you could utter another word, the world slipped away in an instant—darkness encased you, quieting the chaos of the food court and pressing down into a silence that felt weighty yet freeing. You couldn’t tell if you were floating or falling, but nothing remained except an overwhelming absence -- and then your body hit the floor.

“[y/n]? [Y/N]! Someone help, please!” Ciara begged and yelled out as she breathed on your face, checking your pulse. you were breathing, that's all that mattered. being in school for nursing, really wasn't doing her any justice at the moment.

three-hundred-thirty-eight minutes. that's how long it took for you to wake up.

you gradually regained consciousness to the muted buzz of light and occasional distant sounds filtering through the haze of your mind. blinking several times, you squinted against the warm, yellow light spilling through the curtains in the hospital room. the glow felt too harsh against your eyelids, and as you turned your head slightly, a wave of dizziness swept over you.

a sharp ache spiked through your temples, and you instinctively raised a hand to your forehead, feeling the softness of the pillows beneath you. your body felt heavy, soreness settling deep in your muscles—each small movement sent prickles of discomfort shooting through your limbs. you groaned softly, the sound a mere whisper in the stillness of the room.

The room itself was a comforting chaos, the machines beeping, the flowy blue curtains. But it was the smell that truly caught your attention: a mix of treacle sweetness from ciara's half-eaten candy bar on the nightstand, which you grabbed over and took a chunk out of. the clean scent of freshly laundered sheets, and just a hint of the medication. it was oddly grounding, and for a moment, it eased the nausea rising in your stomach like a tidal wave.

taking a deep breath, you lay still, attempting to collect your thoughts. fragments of memory flickered through your mind—little moments of laughter and joy interspersed with the anxiety that had been consuming you before everything went dark. You remembered the bustling vibe of the mall, the annoying feeling of your heart racing, and a sudden wave of dizziness that had pulled you down. panic surged through you as you recalled Ciara’s frantic voice, calling for help when you collapsed.

“there's, no way I actually fainted.” you murmured to yourself, the thought sending a shiver down your spine. “ew, that's so corny.” you felt a flush of heat creep up your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and concern. you turned to ciara, whose face was unchanged the entire time. her face stayed the same -- she looked horrified. concern. something was wrong with you, and you had a really bad feeling about what. it wasn't stress, it wasn't spencer. it was something else.

thirty-eight minutes. thats how long it took for you to find out.

ciara stayed by your side, her face didn't dare to flinch. a nurse stepped quietly into the room, her hesitant movements breaking the fragile quiet that enveloped the space. the atmosphere felt charged, and you could sense the shift immediately, your heart beginning to pound. the light from the window framed ciara, washing over her in a way that felt almost ethereal. as her expression morphed from concern into something more serious, an unsettling tension settled between you, pinning you both in a moment that seemed to stretch on.

when the nurse began to deliver the news her words flowed without sound, each gesture amplifying the weight of what she had to say. you felt your breath hitch as a wave of uncertainty crashed over you, the reality of her news unsettling sinking in like a stone. the room, once familiar and comforting, suddenly felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in as vivid memories backtracked through your mind—laughter, plans, and dreams that now teetered on the brink of change. the warmth of the space became oppressive as your heart raced, fear mingling with disbelief.

in an instant, the safety of your world unraveled, and the gravity of ciara's presence anchored you to an unsettling truth. the air was thick with unvoiced questions, your heart heavy with the weight of responsibility and the unknown. as the silence roared in your ears, every breath turned bittersweet, a reminder of how everything that had once seemed so certain was now tinged with complexity. you stood there, caught between the past and an uncertain future, realizing in that moment that everything had changed.

fifteen minutes. that's how long it took to get discharged.

the car glided smoothly along the dark road, the headlights casting fleeting beams of light onto the pavement, illuminating the otherwise shadowy world outside. ciara sat in the drivers seat seat, her silhouette a quiet presence lost in thought, her silence wrapping the cabin in an almost palpable stillness. each soft breath she took seemed to mirror the steady thrum of the engine, but the weight of her unspoken emotions filled the air, creating a tension that was hard to ignore. the familiar contours of the landscape slipped by in an undulating blur, trees lining the road like silent sentinels.

as the miles rolled on, your mind began to wander, seeking distraction in the rhythmic pattern of passing objects. you started to count the trees, the sturdy trunks becoming a makeshift anchor in the sea of swirling thoughts. one after another, the arboreal figures flickered past, offering a sense of solace as if each counted tree marked a moment of time that moved further away from the hospital. the darkened silhouettes blurred together, yet you found a strange comfort in the repetitive task, allowing your focus to drift into the rhythm of your surroundings.

six hours, thirty-one minutes. and not a single call from spencer.

as the car glided to a stop in the driveway, the familiar surroundings of your home greeted you with an unsettling mix of comfort and anxiety. the sky was turning shades of purple and orange, a vivid sunset framing the moment. ciara turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, her eyes fixed on the front door, as if gauging its significance. you both understood that what waited beyond that threshold was life-changing.

you unbuckled your seatbelt and took a deep breath, your mind swirling with thoughts you had been trying to organize all day. today had felt unending, a series of moments stacked upon one another, each one urging you toward this very conclusion. the weight of what you needed to reveal pressed heavily on your chest, and you were acutely aware of the time you had spent wrestling with your emotions.

ciara glanced at you, her expression a blend of concern and encouragement. you could tell she wanted to say something, perhaps offer reassurance, but instead, she simply gave your hand a gentle squeeze. the gesture felt grounding, a reminder that while you were stepping into the unknown, you were not entirely alone.

with a nod, you exited the car, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a cloak. you took a moment on the doorstep, hesitating as you glanced back at ciara, who offered you a reassuring smile before she drove away. the sound of the engine faded, leaving you with the echo of your own heartbeat.

spencer sat there, something heavy on his mind. his shirt was off, and he was stood in sweatpants and the line of his boxers showing. his hair was damp and flew down to his shoulders, his arms clinging onto the back of his neck and he eyed you up and down. you stared up at him with heavy, red eyes. you set down your purse and stared off into the distance.

he stared at you in silence. it was pissing you off. he was acting like a fucking child, and now really wasn't the time. your heart raced as your thoughts spiraled, the weight of everything you had been holding inside bubbling just beneath the surface. You could feel the frustration rising as you realized you were no longer willing to play your eyes met, and in that shared moment of understanding, something unspoken ignited.

“I can’t do this anymore,”

“I'm pregnant.” You blurted simultaneously.

The air shifted, charged with the gravity of your revelation and his confession, and the silence that had ruled the room felt like it was finally ready to crack open, revealing the unvoiced truths waiting just beneath the surface. your eyes widened and jaw feel open, as you grasped what just came out of his mouth. tears welled up at your eyes, and his met with yours with the same expression, and at the same time you both uttered;

“What?”

reblog or comment for part 2 <3

[miruac]

dating tenya iida headcanons - part three

masterlist

navigation

1 | 2

warnings: extremely self indulgent, not proofread, reverse comfort!!! for iida!!! because even an uptight strong person like him has his moments!!!!

a/n: you guys are EATING these headcanons up...thank you to all of you who like my content, im so glad that theres actually people who like iida as much as i do out there <333 also i will be creating a taglist for this series, so please send me a request if youd like to be added!!

this headcanon popped up into my head as i was taking off my mascara today but like if youre too tired to, iida will gladly take off your makeup for you

he does it so softly and gently im gonna sob

while doing so he's whispering sweet nothings to you(EXCEPT HE MEANS EVERYTHING)

"you're so gorgeous. *wipe* everything about you intrigues me. *wipe*. im so glad that you let me be with you. *wipe* "wait-why are you crying??"

he's such a good cuddler guys omg

going back to my headcanon on how he's touchstarved, it takes a while for him to open up to cuddling

hes worried that he'll act inappropriately and would fear if something he did anything to you

but slowly and surely he warmed up, and now almost everyday you guys are just lounging in each others arms

he's a little stiff, but he figures how you like to be cuddled and he also enjoys it

as long as he's with you he'll be okay

iidas a gossiper. no one argue with me

he won't create false rumours

but he keeps an open ear, and ALWAYS happens to overhear the drama

when he tells you everything he knows your jaw DROPS

because no way does someone so goody goody like him talks shit

but its okay you guys have like designated days to spill everything you know to each other

probably over some snacks too while youre at it

reverse comfort time!!! because our big hunk has his moments too!!!!

during the stain incident, he had so many breakdowns

over his brothers condition, his familys wellbeing, the fact that his brother was actually attacked by a villain

but the major thing was that iida was the successor to ingenium

growing up he knew he was gonna become ingenium at some point, but he didn't think it would be this early

he had a panic attack in the middle of the night, about whether he was worthy enough to actually BE ingenium

in the middle of the night, he knocked on your door

you opened it to find iida with his hair all messy, glasses slanted and almost falling off his nose, while he had tear streaks running down his eyes

when he sees you, he's apologizing profusely under his breath(he's scared he's bothering you :()

"imsorryiknowitslateandireallyshouldntbeherebutididntknowwhattodoand-" "iida?" "iknowimbreakingsomerulesrightnowandiknowiwillhavetofacetheconsequences-" "iida?" "butididntknowwhereelsetogoand-" "iida. you're spiraling, come inside."

he almost crumbles when you let him in, as he trudges to sit on your bed whilst wiping his face

you hand him a bottle of water while you sit next to him, ears open

seeing him cry made your heart crack a little bit, because iida doesn't cry unless he's under an insane amount of pressure

he slowly opened up about how he felt unprepared to become the new ingenium heir in such a short time and if he really was worthy of taking the name for himself

all while you held his hand and listened intently

you two ended up cuddling, you lying down while he had his head on your chest and his arms around you

your fingers were playing with his hair as you were reassuring him through all of it, and he realized he likes his hair to be played with

"y/n?" "hmm?" "thank you." "of course, tenya."

the next morning you got to class and on your desk was a little origami flower with a little note from iida as a thank you

he HATES arguing

he hates it so much he doesn't like getting angry in general, especially at you

when you guys have your first argument he doesn't really know what to say because this is his first relationship, and he wasn't sure how to navigate his feelings

but he never snaps ever; at most his voice gets a little bit louder and his tone is a little more rushed

he never wants to raise his voice at you, so he goes off alone for a little while to cool his head. then, if both of you are ready he'll try his best to tell you his persepective of things

after almost a year of dating, he's more open with showing pda but still gets a little shy

its time!!! to meet the family!!!! tensei has heard of you through iida, and you two have met briefly when you visited him in the hospital with iida

you're a bit scared that his parents won't like you or will think you aren't good enough for their son but theyre not like that at all!!!

he brings you home during the break between first year to second year

when you got to his place your jaw DROPPED

sure hes the brother of ingenium a famed hero but this mans house is NICE(like this as an example but a lot of backyard space)

its not like extravagant but big enough to make you question the amount of money you have in your bank account

he squeezes your hand reassuringly to calm your nerves before you go inside

when you guys go inside, you're greeted by his mother and his brother

his dad was at the agency clearing up some paperwork

his mom is so sweet im gonna cry

she's so welcoming and very patient with you, and she gladly shakes your hand and even welcomes you with a hug

she shows you to the room where you're staying for the time being, and when you get to the room your jaw drops even MORE

it has its own bathroom, the bed is huge, and theres so much lounging space

not to mention the view??? ok im done yapping about houses

theres a special pyjama set on the bed and slippers for you

during dinner you guys converse about how you and iida met, and how life is at ua

after dinner you and his mom gossiped about work stories and stories of raising iida

she showed you baby pictures of him and oh my god HE WAS SO CUTEE

when he first got his engines i headcanon he didnt know how to stop and he hit the wall.....so theres just a picture of a baby iida shaped dent in the wall

your new nickname for him after seeing that was "wall wrecker"

his dad came home a little later and greeted you with a firm handshake

it was a little scary meeting his dad but he seemed to be pleased, just a little quiet and strict

iida showed you to your room when it got late and gave you a little goodnight hug and peck on the cheek

"thank you for letting me bring you home. i hope my mother isn't too...overbearing."

HES SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY

the next day he took you out on a little picnic date at this park

held you in his arms while you watched the petals fall im SICK TO MY STOMACH

he after the picnic he took you out to dinner at this higher fancy restaurant

he held your hand the entire time im gonna barf hes so cute

ignored all your requests to split the bill and he paid the full thing(eat the rich im gonna eat HIM)

you guys watched the sunset while walking home and it was so nice to spend the day with him

the entire day he was telling you stories of the places he took you

he literally never let go of your hand during the day, but his face was still a little red <3 i love him so much im gonna sob

"everytime i look at you im stunned by your beauty. you're even more radiant than those sakura leaves, darling."

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

a/n: WAHHHHH HES SO CUTE IM GONNA CRYYYYYYY

guys i know youve all been looking forward to part 3 but lowk this one was a little rushed and last minute but i hope it lives up to your expectations :3 nuubiii signing off!!!

[girlwithherheadinthestars]

academic rivals prompt list pt. 1

person a creeping up behind person b to lean over their shoulder to see their test score then person b detecting their presence and whirling around to hit them in the face with their calculator

alternatively, person a sees the test score and crows with laughter "HA I GOT .5 POINTS MORE THAN YOU" (also probably gets hit in the head with a calculator)

dead silence as they sit next to each other in class, not making eye contact, looking all business like.

person a: well well well.

person b: indeed

*le dramatic silence*

person a: did you study?

person b: oh not that much i just stayed up for 24 hours straight then summoned the spirit of heisenberg using voodoo dark arts to explain the uncertainty principle to me

person a: amateur i've been up for two days straight surviving on caffeine alone studying the material and the author of our textbook is tied up in my basement so i can ask him questions

person c doing better than both a and b on a test

a and b glaring at c

person a: they die.

person b: i have a shovel i'll bury the body

also, alternatively, person c starts making fun of b.

person a: *death glare* only i make fun of b. take a step back before i break your legs.

a and b go to study at the same library, not expecting to see each other, and then when they do they glare at each other from afar and sit on opposite ends of the table

and then they start stealing glances at each other

a loves hates the way b's brow scrunches up when they're confused, how they push up their glasses, how they sip their coffee

b loves hates it when a runs a hand through their hair in frustration, licks their finger to flip the page of a book, draws absentmindedly on their own hand to relax

when university acceptances come out, both of them get so stressed and open the application portals together, hugging each other and sobbing and then when they both get in they kiss in triumph and then when they come to, they jump back, blinking

*le sexual tension silence*

"that never happened"

"yup."

*awkward handshake*

"good job"

"yeah"

also, imagine person a checking their dream school application portal and not getting in.

b sees the look on a's face change and realizes.

they go over to them and wordlessly hug them, letting them cry into their shoulder

one of a and b's teachers being their literal parent

teacher: a, apologize for calling b an underachiever.

a: *grudgingly* sorry b

teacher: now b, apologize for calling a....what did you call them again?

b: *mutters* i called them thomson's model of the atom because it was incorrect and useless

teacher: yes. that. *sigh* apologize.

b: sorry a

teacher: now hug it out

a and b making disgusted faces

teacher: hug it out.

a and b: *awkward hug*

(the teacher is invited to their wedding)

part. 2

part. 3

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint! ^^ lolol hello hello o/ hope you are doing good!!

So this masterpiece of a game has been invading my mind with ZERO chill lately which directly translated to me coming up with a TON of questions orz I really didn't realize how many I ended up compiling lol

If you don't feel like answering this many please feel absolutely free to ignore this ask or only answer the ones you like the most, the last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed! ^^

ALRIGHT LET'S-A GO

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™?

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol

-does he know how to give massages? :00

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name?

(I am not sure if this⬇️ questions falls under character deaths, if it does I really apologize and absolutely feel free to ignore it ^^)

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl)

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100%

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao

ALRIGHT THATS ALL IM SO SORRY FOR ASKING SO MUCH THE REN BRAINROT HOURS ARE SO REAL IM LOSING BRAINCELLS orz Remember to take care of yourself drink water and take breaks!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

(Also sorry if some phrases don't make sense, english isn't my first language as I am 🤌 lolol)

✦゜ANSWERED: Under da cut because this got long >:3

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™? Ren's memories remain intact!! I mean... He remembers each time you get a bad end and sometimes says something different... >:3 There is also an in-universe reason as to why he has his abilities — I won't spoil anything, but his real name (along with River's and one other character) have a reeeeally big tell. But what this tell is is for me to know and you to find out >:3

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰 Ren (and by extension [REDACTED]) knows not to harm anyone if he knows you won't like it — and even then — he won't actively show that murderous side of him in the first place. To Angel, Ren is just a timid, normal guy.

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol Ren is actually good at cooking, he's just a bit out of touch since he doesn't normally cook for himself! It's normally microwave meals or takeout for him... ^^; And yes, Ren did burn and burn the pancakes in Day 3 — he was distracted by something on his phone :3

Bonus cut Day 3 content: I took out the scene where Ren started to profusely apologise for burning the pancake because he often had to cook when he was younger. Given the dynamic of his family and the environment he grew up in, Ren didn't have much room to make mistakes ;n; I cut this scene out because I felt bad ksgskd So y'all get to have flustered, happy Ren instead!!

-does he know how to give massages? :00 If that was one of Angel's interests or desires, then sure!! ^^

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao Someone else likes flora too, and it sure would be funny if Ren (eventually) starts to mimic certain traits and interests of the person you have the highest affinity/relationship points with in order to make himself look more appealing… >:3c

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ It was mentioned in Jae's lore post (I'll link it here once I find it), but Maple is a Labrador! (Leon would be Jae's Australian Shepherd hehe) In my mind, Maple is only 2 or 3 years old, but that wouldn't really fit the official timeframe... ^^; Jae adopted Maple during high school so he wouldn't feel lonely at home, and it's been over 6+ years since then.... hgdshjg

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name? Angel affectionately calls Ren a puppy during the scene in Day 1 where they meet up after work, so that nickname definitely could work!

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl) aaa I think you might be mistaking that ask for something else? ;v; [REDACTED] would NEVER harm Angel in any capacity, and they're a very patient person. Even if it took decades for Angel to fall in love with him, they'll wait.

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈 You're fine!! And I'm open to doing that! I'll add it to my list hehe

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100% I've shared a spreadsheet that lists all the available choices, the points you earn from each of them, and the endings you can get — however it's only available on Discord and I don't really want to share it outside of the server and potentially put it in the hands of minors. Sorry!!

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao Hehe >:3 There's a loooot of lore that won't ever be mentioned in the game (since it doesn't seem fitting/I don't see a reason to), so I'm happy to provide it here!

[ox-imagines]

Tokyo Debunker as Romance Tropes

Feel free to ask me to write a longer imagine/oneshot for any of these!

Pt. 7 | Obscuary

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6

Rui - Forbidden Love

You see Rui around campus fairly often in your time at Darkwick, and you think he’s wonderfully handsome and always seems to be in a good mood. You finally get the chance to properly meet him in the cafeteria one day when you turn around and almost run into him. He panics a bit and steps away from you quickly, which you interpret as a bit of a rude overreaction since you didn’t even actually touch him. He quickly apologizes and tells you he runs a bar on campus, inviting you to come let him make you a drink to make up for his reaction (hastily adding that the majority of the drinks he makes are in fact non-alcoholic). You take him up on his offer and find that he’s actually wonderful company, and he seems to quite like you too, though you’re not completely convinced he’s not just a flirt. Even so, you find yourself spending a good deal of time at his bar, talking to him late into the night, and after getting back to your dorm you usually message him on WickChat once he’s closed the bar down. You know you’ve gotten close with him, he genuinely seems to appreciate and enjoy your company and doesn’t seem to have many people he’s actually close with, but over time you feel like he’s starting to pull away. One night while there’s no one else at the bar and you’ve finally got his full attention again, you give in to your feelings and ask him out. You sincerely think you’re in love with him, and want nothing more than to hold him close while you talk rather than being on different sides of campus texting each other in the middle of the night. When you ask him out, his expression turns oddly sad, a look on his face you couldn’t have imagined he could make. He corrects it and gives you a polite, lopsided smile, but his eyes belie how he really feels as he lets you down easy.

“Look, there’s, there’s something I need to tell you. I can’t be with you, not in a way that’s more than what we already are. You ever notice how I always avoid touching you? Im cursed; I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry…”

Lyca & Ed - Vampire vs Werewolf

Lyca is a newly integrated student who’s having some trouble adjusting to his new life. It doesn’t help, though, that the other students treat him poorly or differently since he’s a werewolf. You see him for the person he is rather than his supernatural afflictions and treat him as such, working to help him fit in better with the human students. He ends up protective and a bit possessive of you and treats you like you’re the most important person in the world (of course besides Subaru, who was his first friend, and a man named Neros who you’ve gathered basically raised him). Things are going well until one of his dormmates comes into the picture. He’s complained about him before, and the first few times you visit their dorms Ed stays closed in his room. After your classes, you head over to Obscuary to find Lyca; he hasn’t been answering his WickChat today. When you get there, Ed’s door is open. You can’t help but cast a curious glance inside as you walk past to Lyca’s room. After all, you’ve never seen a real vampire. He’s gorgeous, with porcelain skin and well-kempt hair framing sparkling red-violet eyes. A small gasp leaves your lips and his sharp eyes flick up from his computer to meet yours. He grins, his expression a mixture of devilish and curious, and he rises elegantly and gets to his door surprisingly quick. You think to yourself that it’s good for Romeo’s ego that Ed acts like a hermit, because he has an enrapturing beauty about him that could definitely rival Romeo. Ed gets almost uncomfortably close, and you have a suspicion that he’s… smelling you? When Lyca hears Ed talking to someone, he quickly comes out of his room, placing himself between the two of you. His big silvery ears showing and flattened back angrily, he spits threats at Ed to stay away from you, but Ed just chuckles, winking at you before backing into his room. It doesn’t take long for you to realize this is your life now, Ed making sly, often suggestive comments and subtle advances and Lyca losing it with him over it.

“Don’t you look like a vision today? Any special reason?”

“I swear you moth-eaten Casanova, touch her again and I’ll rip your hand off myself!”

[in1-nutshell]

Hello and is it okay to request TF with this idea?

Fem Buddy as a cybertronian (or Terran) and has a twin bot. They've been raised on earth and by humans, since they were babies and They don't know anything about Cybertron, they still loves/cares Earth and anything on it

They're famous or celebrity twins on earth. (like being genius, performer, artist, model, YouTuber, actor, or others, you choose). They do love it, the fame, the happy faces that humans get when seeing them, but They sometimes wondered where they came from.

Fem Buddy and Male! Twin are both inseparable, caring for each other, they sometimes speak/act in unison, having same and/or sharing thoughts, and had great teamwork/synchronization, and yet had teasings/sassiness in a mild way

Yet Fem Buddy and Twin have differences

Fem Bot looks like a Decepticon, has an reclusive yet timid and good-hearted, yet sometimes expressive with closed lip, also being supportive (and somewhat child-like or oblivious/innocent) twin.

M! Twin, he looks similar to an Autobot, known for being a leading/leader twin, having energetic, bold, and pompous yet somewhat mature, or something like spoiled prince yet mature and has smart personality, often showing his sharp teeth, whether he's smiling, frowning, etc., also being very protective/ aggressive for his twin.

You can add this idea if you want:

Autobots' human friend/kid(s) have been a fan of the twins (and probably had a celebrity crush/es on them), before the cybertronian thing, and they introduce the Autobots to these Celebrity twins via media of sort?

I apologize if this is complicated or I've been requested a lot. Thank you so much and also take care of yourself.

(also Happy Decepticon Day!)

Finally! I got to this one before it got erased! Again!

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy Twin's who live on Earth

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronian reader

TFA

The name Issac Sumdac was one well known throughout the city of Detroit.

It was also a little-known fact of his daughter, Sari Sumdac, who was almost always accompanied by two of his most astounding looking robots.

A tall one and a small one.

Affectionally given the names Sonia and Syrus.

Sonia was the larger bot that was often seen walking the grounds of the Tower, presumably as a guard bot.

It seemed like the bot fit the job having such a large, and sharp framework.

Perfect for intimidating any trespassers.

As intimidating as the bot looked, Sonia’s family knew that she was a shy bot who just so happened to look like she could end someone with her pinkie.

A couple of tourist are looking at the big bot from a distance. Tourist 1: “Do you think it can think?” Tourist: “No way, its just a machine.” Tourist 1: “But if it could…” Tourist 2: “Probably thinking on how to annihilate human kind. I mean have you seen the size of those fists!” Meanwhile with Sonia… Sonia: “I think I’ll go visit the red birds nest before lunch time.”

Around her family, Sonia was a bit of a pushover for her younger siblings.

She couldn’t help it!

They had a mastery of the puppy dog eyes she had yet to conquer.

But make no mistake, if there is even the notice of a threat to Sonia’s family, she is making sure to get them to safety before dealing with the situation.

Sari loves hanging around Sonia’s shoulder and loves doing random trust falls with her.

The Professor has lost count of the number of times he has had to buff out dents in his eldest daughter’s frame.

Sonia loves her younger sister to death but she needs to stop giving her near death experiences.

Sonia is with the Professor watching Syrus playing with Sari play. Professor Sumdac: “You know you could always join them, Sonia.” Sonia looks at him. Sonia: “But what if I hurt them? I’m too sharp and big” Professor Sumdac: “It would be on accident. We both know you would never actively harm them.” Sonia still looks a bit conflicted but ends up joining the pair in ‘Mega trust fall’. Professor Sumdac winces a bit as both Syrus and Sari fall from a ledge and Sonia cushions their fall. Professor Sumdac: “Maybe I should have talked to them about taking it easier on their sister…”

Syrus was the smaller bot.

Often seen giving some tours around the Tower for guests and tourists.

His energetic and charismatic personality fit well for the tours.

He is the closest with Sari.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Sonia, but his baby sister is way more fun to hang out than Sonia the worry wart.

Both love playing around the Tower’s private grounds, letting their imagination run wild.

On the occasion they do decide to make the day an adventure, they both know that if things get too hairy, Sonia was always one call away.

No one in their right mind would DARE mess with them when Sonia was in her protective mode.

Sonia is just minding her business when she gets a call. Sonia: “Syrus? What—” Syrus: “Can you come get us? We might have gotten in a bit of trouble…” Sonia is already tracking down Syrus location. Sonia: “What happened? Are you and Sari okay?” Syrus: “Well… we might be hiding from Fanzone’s new rookie cop.” Sonia: “And why?” Syrus: “To be fair, he started calling Sari a brat… and we might have put a virus on his phone… and currently hiding in the park.” Sonia: “… Give me 5 minutes.” Syrus: “Yes!” Sonia: “But you two are explaining to Dad why your in this mess.” Syrus: “…Hey big sis—” Sonia: “Don’t even think about it.”

That being said, Syrus is almost, if not more protective of his family than Sonia is.

While Sonia can handle certain things being thrown at them, she has a hard time standing up for herself.

That’s where Syrus usually comes in and stands up for her.

Syrus has no problem chewing out anyone who goes after her.

Both robotic siblings are ready to choose violence if someone decides to go after their squishier family members.

The topic of the bots creation has been a hot topic for years, mainly kept up by Syrus constantly pestering Professor Sumdac about it.

Sonia stopped asking a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about it from time to time.

Especially looking at other, less emotional robots.

She is simply content with her life keeping her father and siblings safe.

Now, to the day the Autobots wake up…

Sonia was away on a nearby island trying to help Sari with her project on bird nesting sites.

Syrus is beside Sari’s side the entire time the Autobots are going around.

Absolutely blown away when the bots reveal that he is a Cybertornian like them.

Even gets a vehicle mode from them!

Every single one of the Sumdac’s remember at the last second that they had forgotten to mention the whole incident to Sonia.

The Professor swears he can hear Sonia’s ‘blood pressure rise in less than a couple seconds when he talks to her over the phone.

Syrus and Sari are in charge of telling the bots about their older sister.

Sari: “You guys are gonna love Sonia!” Optimus: “Sonia?” Syrus: “That’s our big sister.” Bumblebee: “Like human or bot?” Syrus: “Bot—Sari! She is going to flip when she finds out she’s an alien too!” Sari: “I bet she’s gonna watch all those alien movies with us now!” Ratchet turns Prowl. Ratchet: “I swear if this ‘Sonia’ is like Syrus…” They both share a look of slight dread. BOOM! The ground starts to tremble a bit. Bulkhead: “What is that!?” Bumblebee: “You think it could be the Decepticons?” Sonia appears at the front door venting heavy with panic in her optics. All the Autobots are ready to attack when Syrus and Sari run to the bot. Bumblebee: “Sari! Syrus!” Both jump up as the larger bot kneels and holds them both to her chassis. Sonia: “Your okay! Wait are you?” Sonia looks at both of them from head to toe trying to see any signs of harm. The bots are just stunned. Syrus: “We’re fine Sonia, but guess what! We’re aliens! Just like the Autobots!” Sonia finally looks up at the bots and looks just as surprised as Syrus had when he first met them. She shyly goes over and takes her servo out. Sonia: “Its nice to meet you all. I take it you helped keep Syrus and Sari safe?” Optimus blinked a bit before slowly shaking her servo. To his surprise, she was very gently in handling it. Optimus: “Yes, and you are Sonia?” Sonia smiles a bit while placing both her sibling on her shoulders. Syrus stops her. Syrus: “Wait! Sonia look what we can do!” He proceeds to transform into a car and drives a bit around the Plant. Sonia: “Wait we can do that!”