#for rewind he'd turn around

[they-hermes]

the darkest hour of the darkest night comes right before the dawn

au where cdrw are orpheus and eurydice but in this version eurydice doesn't know of the deal between orpheus and hades

[landoughnut]

Dream Girl

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - lando norris x fem!reader

♡ summary - when being interviewed, the conversation gets on the topic of you, lando's long term obsession crush, never in a million years did he think you would actually notice him

♡ warnings - obsessed/simp lando

♡ w/c & a/n - 0.85k | I hope you all are doing good! as usual send any requests xoxo

"Good afternoon, Lando! We're happy to have you here with us today," the interviewer smiles, sat across from the driver.

"Great to be here," he nods, putting his hands on his lap and leaning back into the chair, "Wow, nice chairs you've got here."

The interviewer laughs, "Glad you approve of them. So, let's get started with the questions, shall we?" Lando nods and the lady clears her throat, "First off, when racing at the high speeds you do, what are some things you're thinking about? Or maybe I should say, a someone?"

Let's rewind. If there was one thing, besides being a Formula 1 driver, that everyone knew Lando Norris for, it was having the world's most massive crush on you. In fact, pretty much everyone was aware of this; except for you.

You wouldn't call yourself oblivious, per se. You just weren't really one to be online, so you never saw all the drama surrounding Lando's infatuation with you.

He has been enamored with you for about three years now, and he made it everyone's problem. From liking instagram updates of you, to commenting on pictures and videos of you, to even reposting edits of you. His friends must have sat through hours and hours of hearing him just speak about your beauty and personality.

His friends teased him about it quite often, though he was never really embarrassed over it. He truly just found everything about you beautiful, you were his dream girl, everything he'd ever want in a woman.

"Well, uh, I think about, you know, winning. Also what I'm going to eat after, and uh.. my girl," he nods with a slight grin.

The interviewer raises her eyebrows, "I wasn't informed you finally got a girlfriend," she says, surprised.

He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. She's not my girlfriend... yet. Although I'm not even sure if she knows that I exist, but I'm working on it."

"Ah, I should have known," the lady smiles at his flustered state, "I wish you luck with that. Now I believe we should move onto the more important questions, before I get in trouble," she taps on her clipboard.

The rest of the interview seemed like forever for Lando, now that he was thinking about you again, as he usually is.

You're in your bed, watching one of your favorite shows, How I Met Your Mother, when your phone starts to blow up with your friends messaging you and sending you a link to a YouTube video of some F1 interview.

You open the video is none other than the very cute, Lando Norris. Of course you knew who he was, you kept up with Formula 1 on your free time and enjoyed watching the races.

As the video is playing through, you open the comments and your eye go wide at everyone saying your name and commenting on how hot of a couple you two would make. You furrow your eyebrows at some comments talking about how devoted to you he must be for liking you for several years without a single interaction.

You continue to watch the video and your cheeks turn pink as he talks about, well you. You couldn't believe that he liked you like that, surely you were well-known, and you weren't too bad looking, but one of the best current racers in the world crushing on you?

After the video ended you messaged your best friend back, asking what you should do. She, of course, told you to message him on instagram.

You thought over the idea for a bit, before nervously clicking on his account and following him back before beginning to type.

Lando was hanging out with Oscar around the garage when he hears his phone ping with a notification. He glances at it and turns his phone off again before doing a double check to make sure he saw it right. You had followed him.

"OSCAR," he yells and turns to his friend, holding the phone in his face, "SHE FOLLOWED ME, LOOK," he waves the phone.

Oscars jaw drops, never did he see this day coming, "Wow! Mate, thats fantastic, and look! It seems like she just sent you a message!"

"What? I might faint, Oscar," the boys hands shake with excitement and nerves as he clicks on your message. "Hi! I saw your interview, and I must say, I'm truly flattered," Lando reads as his face turns dark pink, he didn't think you'd see it, guess he was wrong.

Oscar starts laughing, "Text her back!"

"I don't know what to say, I've never spoken to her in my life," he panics.

"Mate, she saw you call her your girl, it's a bit too late to be nervous," Oscar smiles, patting his friend's pack. Lando chews his lip and writes back, heart pounding.

After a few messages were exchanged and an anticipated Oscar waiting for an update clears his throat, Lando looks up from the phone with the brightest smile Oscar has ever seen on him, "Guess who scored himself a date with his future wife this Saturday?"

[thebearer]

making the bed |carmen berzatto x reader| part one

prompt: carmen's stressed. food critics, a newborn baby, balancing work life and married life and now dad life; he's bound to break, everyone knows it. but no one ever thought he'd lash out on you.

or, part one of the devastation fic. based off this ask from the other day. two more parts to come.

contains: mega angst. mega angst, with no resolution in this part. hurt, no comfort (in this chapter, will be later in part 3). mean!carmen, very mean. mom!reader x dad!carmen with newborn teddy. fighting, language, carmen says mean stuff he doesn't mean. past mentions of trauma, family trauma, mikey mentioned. very angsty and a little heavy, please read at your own discretion. word count- 3.5k+.

"Are you ok?"

Carmen now understood why that phrase used to send Donna into such a blind rage, lips pursing and jaw clenching more and more every time he heard it. First at work, then with you, it felt never ending.

It was beginning to feel like critic season with how many were coming in, snooty and demanding to be impressed. It couldn't have come at a worst time, right in the middle of busy season with the start of the holidays. Days at The Bear were filled with frantic panic, running around, making sure everything was perfect, accounted for, and Carmen always had the sinking feeling it wasn't- that he'd forgotten something, messed something up. 

It wasn't rare for him to work himself up like this, a normal that you always warned him about, but he'd always had a solitude. As long as he'd known you, he'd had a place to go, to unwind, to let himself rest and reset with you. And he still did, it was just shared now with a newborn.

Dorothea Michelle. Teddy, for short. The light of his life, yours too. Nearly two months old with a set of lungs that sounded much louder, much more developed than that. Nights were long, sleepless, spent trying to lull Teddy back to sleep, awake even if he wasn't up with her. Carmen couldn't allow himself the selfishness to relax, to rewind, to "take it easy" like everyone told him to. At work, he was the boss; at home, he was a dad.

"Fuck, fuck," Carmen's sleepy stare was broken by a lick of bubbling heat, the lamb's roux popping with the high heat, splashing all over Carmen's chef whites.

"Jeff, c'mon," Tina clicked, shaking her head, moving the pan to lower heat. "What're you doin'?"

Carmen grit his teeth, snatching a rag off the stainless steel counter tops, scrubbing the burgundy stain, huffing when it only spread the stain.

"What happened?" Sydney turned, looking from the burnt sauce to Carmen's stained chef shirt. "Oh,"

"Do we have a spare coat?" Carmen huffed, throwing the rag down with a firm smack against the counter.

"I don't think so, Carm." Sydney shook her head. "You took the last ones home with you two days ago. The wine-"

"-I know, Chef, I know." Carmen snapped, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I-I can't fuckin' serve the critics lookin' like this. With shit all over me- fuck."

"Hey, easy, easy," Richie turned the corner, his hands held up. "What's goin' on?"

"Jeff got sauce over him. He doesn't have any clean clothes." Tina muttered, irritated that she had to fix his mess, more irritated that he wasn't taking care of himself. You have a baby, Jeff, you need to rest and take some time, she'd told him. Carmen only waved her off.

"Okay, okay, hey, that's no problem." Richie's voice raised, lifting over Carmen's. "You go home and change, get your spare, check on my beautiful goddaughter, and then come back with your A game. Yes?"

Carmen didn't even humor him with a snarky remark, yanking his coat off and stomping towards the office to grab his things. Richie and Tina looked at each other, shaking their head gently.

"Kids runnin' thin, T." Richie muttered with a sigh. "He's gonna break. It's gonna be bad."

"Yeah, he is. Gonna wear himself out before then." Tina shook her head. "Jeff needs a vacation." They both jumped at the slamming of the backdoor, Carmen's angry exit shaking the foundation.

"Needs to be fuckin' medicated. Fuckin' lunatic." Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes at Carmen's dramatics.

The drive home was filled with silence, Carmen's iron grip on the wheel, tearing through the traffic towards the house- his house, his home. 

Home, but it didn't provide the same comfort that it usually did. Carmen's shoulders still stayed tense, buzzing with rage, not dissipating when he thought of you, or of Teddy, knowing you'd both be there, excited to see him. 

You jumped at the sound of the car door slamming, peeking out the window to see Carmen's parked next to yours, furiously stomping up the front steps. You frowned, grabbing the baby monitor, walking towards the front door.

Carmen nearly hit you with how fiercely he flung the door open. "Woah," You reached for the door, stopping it before he could flick it shut. "Carm, don't slam it. Teddy's asleep. I just got her down." You frowned at him, shutting it slowly.

Carmen looked at you but didn't speak, looking through you with a rage that had your spine tingling before he finally broke his gaze, stomping towards the laundry room. "Carm? What’re you doing home? Don’t you have dinner soon?" You hesitated slightly, lingering in the doorway with an uncertainty you hadn’t felt with Carmen before. 

Carmen didn’t answer, his jaw still ground tight while he rummaged through the clean clothes, carelessly unfolding and shifting the folded clothes.

"Carmen," You said more firmly, caching his gaze. He didn't speak still, just stared at you- through you. "Are you ok?" You lifted a brow, features softening in worry.

Carmen paused, eyes closing, shoulders tensing in agitation. Are you ok? His ears rang, a familiar rage that he hadn't felt in years bubbling up deep in his chest. Frustrated and blinding and rampant, heat rushing through his veins, pulling himself further and further from reality into someplace different- someplace darker in his mind. 

"What's wrong?" You pressed, he could barely hear it, ears ringing at your question. "Did something happen? Did the critic come-"

"-Where's my chef whites?" Carmen barked, cutting you off, his chest tightening more and more with every heavy heave of his chest. You flinched at his tone.

"Uh, I-I haven't seen the whites. I washed your white tee-"

“-You what? Y-You what?” Carmen spat, eye widening with a wild, raged glint in his eye. Your stomach flipped and fell with fear, stepping back instinctively. 

“I-I washed your tee, Carm, that’s all that you left in the laundry basket-” 

"-Are you fucking kidding me?" Carmen boomed, his head spinning, body buzzing with rage. Your breath hitched, frozen in fear at the anger in his tone, the roar of his voice bouncing off the walls, echoing through your ears in a painful drum. 

Carmen moved, snatching the dirty clothes basket, dumping it into the ground with a shake until the dirty chef coat fell on top. He gripped the basket, flinging it across the room with a hard throw. The final push to his bad mood that sent him right over the edge, crashing into a pit of blinding fury, aggravation, breaking him from the inside out.

"Fuck!" Carmen roared, his voice shaking the walls, your breath leaving your lungs in a trembling exhale of fear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is- This is- Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” 

You tensed in shock, gripping the baby monitor in fear, maybe surprise, as it started to buzz to life with Teddy's startled whimpers. Her small cries pulled you out of your frozen state, something deeper than fear replacing the ache in your stomach. 

"Carmen-" You gaped, voice wobbling with uncertainty, taking slow shuffled steps towards the stairs. “Carmen, calm-calm down. Ok? Calm down.” 

“Calm down? You want me to fuckin’ calm down?” Carmen sneered, an angry red flush blossoming in splotchy deep hues up his neck, towards his cheeks. “You don’t do shit, nothin’ that I fuckin’ ask for! Just sit around all fuckin’ day an-and I’m supposed to calm down?” 

“Carmen,” Your voice wobbled, throat tight with tears, hurt and fear strangling your words. “I-You didn’t ask me to wash them. I-I didn’t know. They weren’t in the hamper-” 

“-I shouldn’t have to ask you to wash them!” Carmen roared, eyes so wide you thought they might pop right out of his head, neck vein protruding on exemplifying his rage. “You know what I’m going through! You know how much fuckin’ stress I’m under! I go to that-that shit hole, an-and work my fuckin’ ass off so you don’t have to! Then I come home, and I-I can’t even get a second of peace!” 

“Stop,” You hiss, finally regaining your composure, his words fully sinking into you  now, feeling the full effect of them. “I-I just had a baby. I’m still on maternity leave taking care of a baby- our baby, and I’m tired too. But I’m not yelling at you-” 

“-Oh, right. Right.” Carmen laughs sarcastically, humorless as he runs his hand down his face. It felt mocking, left you feeling small and too vulnerable for your liking. “Because in between your napping an-and feeding, you couldn’t stick a fucking jacket in the wash, right? You’re so busy.”  

“What is wrong with you?” You snap, hoping he can’t hear the tears in your voice, the way your voice shakes with emotion. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” Carmen scoffs, throwing his hands out. “I get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then I come home so I can go back and work my ass off some more, and-and you can’t do one simple fuckin’ thing? You can’t help me out? And then you wanna know what’s wrong with me? When you sit on your ass all fuckin’ day-” 

Teddy’s piercing wail pulls you out of your shocked trance, nose and throat burning with hurt filled tears you refuse to shed. Instead, you turn, climbing the stairs on shaky legs, the sound of Teddy’s cries growing louder and louder. Anchovy watches you from the top of the stairs, sensing the tension, your upset, sliding against your leg as if to comfort you. 

Carmen scoffs, hands buzzing and trembling with rage, the ringing in his ears growing louder and louder with each of your footsteps on the stairs and down the hall. He can barely hear Teddy’s sobs, hands threading through his hair, pulling at his scalp. He sees you walk towards the bedroom, quickly, hugging Teddy to your chest. 

“Oh, don’t go fuckin’ do it now!” Carmen roared, your ignoring him only infuriating him further. “It won’t be ready in time now. I’ll just look like a fuckin’ idiot for the critic tonight! Not that you care! Why would you, huh? I-I mean just our livelihood, just our fuckin’ income!” 

You swallowed back your tears, head tilting towards the ceiling, hands shaking with every shove of your things into the overnight bag. Just enough to get you through the night, the next day. A few essentials, Teddy’s spare onesies, a charger, your wallet- you stopped mid-shove of your items into the weekender bag, the sun’s rays catching in your wedding ring. Your heart fell, more and more, you weren’t sure how that was even possible. 

Carmen’s furious voice was still booming from downstairs, ringing and shaking in his furious fit. Richie and Sugar both warned you about Carmen’s tantrums, brought them up to embarrass him, tease him about it until he was red faced and hissing hushed threats at them. You never, never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be on the receiving end of one. 

You jumped, another slam of something Carmen had thrown, maybe hit in a fit of rage, causing Teddy to wail louder, Anchovy skittering nervously away. Tears leaked out of your eyes, twisting the ring off your finger, setting it on Carmen’s bedside table. Pulling the carrier out of the closet, Anchovy got in much easier than usual, which you were thankful for. 

Carmen was gripping the marble of the countertop when he heard you again, walking from the bottom of the stairs, quick steps towards the door to the garage, Teddy’s voice nearly hoarse from her crying. You kept your head high, tunnel-visioned towards your car, ignoring his heavy breathing and frantic pacing. 

“Wha-What are you doin’?” Carmen’s voice was softer now, still with a jagged edge that was cutting and harsh. The car door opened, the baby carrier hooked into the car seat. 

“Hey, wha- what are you- where’re you goin’? What’re you doin’?” Carmen’s heart dropped in a damning rush of hour, stumbling on heavy legs towards the garage. You ignored him, shushing Teddy gently, running a calming hand over her wet cheek, trying to coax her paci into her mouth. 

“Baby, no-no, no. Hey, no, I-I- What-” Carmen’s chest felt tight, mind numbing and racing, stuttering nervously. You reached for your bag, his hand reaching to grab the strap. “Whe-Where’re you-”

“-Don’t touch me.” You hissed, teeth bared, eyes shining with tears. Carmen flinched, pulling his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” You sneered, pinning him with a watery glare that had his stomach turning in sickening fear. 

“Baby, hey, w-wait-C’mon, d-don’t-You don’t, you don’t need to do this, ok? I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Carmen choked out the words, frantic and unsure, his hands shaking when they ghosted over you back just for a moment. Wanting to touch you, to hold you, to grab you and keep you from leaving, but too scared to. Instead, he grabbed the car door you flung open, holding it when you tried to yank it closed. 

“Let go.” You hissed, sniffling back wet, snotty tears of fury and hurt. 

“Please, don’t-do-don’t do this. Please, baby, I-I’m sorry.” Carmen begged, blue eyes deepening with the burning red hues of tears, bloodshot and lashes wet. “Don’t-Don’t do this-” 

“-I didn’t do this.” You sneered, leaving Carmen flinching at your words. “Don’t you dare try to say this was me. After how you just talked to me? The shit you said to me in there? You think I’m going to stay?” Your voice cracked with emotion, lips pressing together to keep a cry in. 

“No, no, no, no, no, baby, please. Please, ju-just come inside. Come inside, please? Please, don’t-” 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. To say that kinda stuff to me. That hurt, Carmen. That was mean.” You glared at him, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t care if you’re stressed. I don’t care what’s going on- nothing, and I mean nothing, warrants you talking to me like that. Just because you fucked up, because you forgot to ask me to do it, because you’re stressed out- I don’t care what it is. You don’t talk to me like that, say those things when I’ve been home all day taking care of my ch- our child.” You nod back towards the sniffling baby, whimpering and crying half heartedly, her little eyelids drooping with sleep that was interrupted. 

Carmen felt sick, his knees tightening in fear, he was sure they might give out, that he might fall to the ground right there. Looking at the tiny baby, lip jutted and shaking in the mirror hooked on the back of the seat, then back at you, eyes red-rimmed and glaring at him with a hurt filled anger. 

“Don’t-” Carmen’s chest shook, a white-knuckled grip on the door. 

Your own hand curled around the door’s inner handle, yanking it away from him. “Move,” You hissed, pulling again. 

Carmen wasn’t sure why he let it go, why he let you shut it, locking the door in case he tried to open it again. Why he let you pull out of the driveway, why he didn’t stop you, why he didn’t run after you, only taking soft shuffles down the drive like a zombie as you drove away. Standing in the drive, Carmen swallowed down the spit that pooled in his mouth, stomach churning, sure he was going to be sick. 

He managed to trudge back to the garage, mind racing and far away, the ringing in his ears dulling but still deafening. It felt like he was in a dream- a nightmare, a hallucinating trance that felt like a sick, sick dream- Carmen was hoping it was. That he’d wake up and find you next to him asleep. That he could hug you, pull you into him, nose buried in your neck, still warm from your slumber. 

As the sun began to sink low into the sky, minutes turning into hours that Carmen sat motionless in the garage, staring in a trancelike state, he realized that this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. No this was his reality, a horrific reality that he’d made into his own. Carmen sat, eyes trained on the concrete of the garage, voice racing and blending in his mind- his words, yours, Teddy’s cries, Natalie and Richie’s, flashbacks of his mother screaming fits. 

He didn’t move, frozen in chilling, eerie fear. What ifs and terrifying possible scenarios, consequences to his own actions that left him feeling sick, hands trembling. A spiraling of fears that only drug him deeper and deeper with every haunting replay of his outburst. Even the flashing of headlights turning into the driveway, filling the garage with light, didn’t pull him from his trance. 

“The fuck is he- Cousin!” Richie roared, laying on the horn. Carmen didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that he heard it, only stared. Richie frowned, turning the car off, throwing the door open. 

“Cousin? Carm? What-What are you doin’? Dinner service started an hour ago. Syd is freakin’ the fuck out.” Richie threw his hands up, walking towards the man who still didn’t move. Richie’s heart skipped, flashbacks of Mikey flooding into his vision, parallels of the two brothers blurring before him. 

“Yo, Carm, you-you good?” Richie stepped into the garage, his spine tingling with icy fear. It was quiet, an eerie, unsettling quiet. “Cousin, hey, what-what’s wrong?” 

Carmen's chest rose and fell, tighter and tighter. He was suffocating, head spinning and mind racing so fast he felt light headed. He could barely hear Richie’s voice over the noise in his head, Richie’s hand shaking his shoulder finally breaking his trance enough to meet his eyes, rounded in fear filled question. 

“Carmen, what’s wrong? Is it- Don’t fuckin’ tell me it’s the baby. What the fuck is goin’ on-” 

“-She left.” Carmen’s voice shook, raspy and scared. His tongue still felt too thick, head still spinning. He wasn’t even sure he said it, Richie’s widening eyes the only thing confirming that he had said it. 

“What? Who-Who left? Who?” Richie looked around, like the clues might be there, sure that Carmen wasn’t talking about you. No, he wouldn’t- he couldn’t. Not you. 

Carmen’s breath hitched, a strangling of a sob caught in his throat, running his hand over his face. Richie didn’t miss the way it trembled, shaking even as it rested over his eyes. Your car was gone, the house too quiet, no baby Teddy crying, nothing but silence was left. 

Richie’s heartbeat crawled into a rapid, scared pace. “Why? Wh-Why would she-” Richie looked at Carmen, eyes wide but still, reading his expression. “No. No, Cousin, no. What-What did you do? Carmen,” Richie grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him lightly until he met his gaze. “What did you do?” 

Carmen’s face began to crack, behind his eyes, Richie could see flashbacks of something- something he didn’t know what, but whatever it was, it was painful. That was evident by the fear that glossed over Carmen’s eyes, realization and horror. Carmen’s shoulders shook, frame rocking with a sob he tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Deep cries, guttural sobs breaking out of his frame, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, fingers curled and clenched around his greasy curls in agony. 

The damning realization flooded over him, that you’d left. 

You’d left, you’d taken Teddy, taken Anchovy- you’d left because he’d driven you away. His angry outburst, petulant, mean, hurtful- he’d been so cruel to you. You. His wife, the love of his life, mother of his child, the one person who loved him endlessly without stipulations or boundaries, the one person who truly understood him. 

And he’d driven you away. 

He wished he could blame his mom, his dad, his family for fucking him up so severely, maybe Mikey, even, for leaving him the shit show that was the restaurant, making his anxieties worse and fuse shorter. But sitting in the empty garage, Richie standing above him in silent shock, his sobs and angry sniffles echoing off the cement floor, Carmen knew he had no one to blame but himself. 

He’d fucked up. Really fucked up. Fucked up in a way that made all the other times look obsolete. 

Carmen had fucked up, and for once, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t avoid it, ignore it, deflect it like other times. Half hearted apologies and promises of change wouldn’t work, you weren’t here for him to even try to give them to you, and he didn’t know where you went. 

Carmen wasn’t sure where you went, how to fix this, why he’d done what he did, and a million other things that raced through his mind. What he did know, sitting in the too quiet garage, chest stuttering with heaving cries, was that he’d do anything. 

Anything, to get you back home. To make it right. To fix this and make it up to you. 

He wasn’t sure how, but he’d give up everything. Anything. His restaurant, his dreams, his hopes, his life, at this point, to make it up to you. 

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[zhounauts]

͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏──── ☆ NOT WHAT SHE SEEMS ! ͏͏͏͏͏NRK X FMR ᵂᶜ⁵⁹⁸

☰♪ TRACK NO.7 OF THE REWIND! ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏☆ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏SERIES MASTERLIST

if someone had told riki that he'd be stumbling over his words and tripping on his feet because of yn, class 2-5's certified teacher's pet, he'd laugh.

riki had grown used to (and tired of) hearing your voice every class, ringing through the silence to answer every single question.

he hated the stupid way you'd correct anybody if they were wrong, and the way you'd always be the first person to raise their hand.

he hated you got special treatment from the teachers, and the way you would scold him for wearing his uniform wrong, having his airpods in, sleeping, not taking notes, and more. the list was endless.

he also hated how, despite that, you were still nice to everyone, and minus the scolding, you still treated him well.

right. and he hated how stupidly pretty you were.

but then summer break comes around, and riki doesn't have to see you again.

but he does. school was never his strong suit, but one thing he knew for sure, was that you of all people should not be here.

he expected that the next time he'd see you again would be back in classroom 2-5, your hair tied in it's usual pony tail, uniform flawless, and your hand up in the sky waiting to be called on.

his expectations are shattered.

because there you are, in the middle of the crowd of revving car engines, the screeching of tires, and the burning smell of gasoline.

you're laughing with a guy, twirling your hair, and being everything that you shouldn't be. your pony tail is gone, and so is your usually speck-free uniform.

he watches you, from his spot in the crowd, utterly flabbergasted. utterly drawn.

your goody-two shoes image is fading fast, and riki can't look away from you no matter how hard he tries. his heart stops when you make eye contact. and he knows you've seen him when your eyes open slightly, before they harden.

next thing he knows you're walking towards him, hips swaying in your baggy jeans and hair blowing in the night wind.

"yn?" thats the only thing riki can pathetically squeak out, his usual confidence gone with your appearance. you laugh.

"how's your summer vacation going?'

"uhm," riki stumbles, "good, nothing much. erm. how about you?"

"the usual," you answer, "i'm excited to head back soon," riki blinks.

"right." he says. you smile.

"i gotta go, see you," you turn without letting him answer, leaving riki flabbergasted for the nth time this day. he can't help but watch as you leave, his eyes unable to let you go until you disappear from view. and his mind doesn't let you go either, you're imprinted in it, and he's entranced.

the next time riki sees you it's class 2-5 again.

and you're back, with your ponytail and spotless uniform, traces of that august night completely gone. for some reason, he's rendered speechless again, standing at the entrance of the class with his eyes on you.

you're helping someone out with something as usual, and everything is seemingly normal. riki starts to think that what happened was a dream, especially when he walks past you, and you don't acknowledge him at all despite making eye contact.

but then in the middle of class, his eyes find you again, and there you are with the same smile you gave him that night.

and then you bring your finger to your mouth, shushing him along with the night where you were everything but what you seemed.

but he couldn't forget. not when you were so unforgettable.

© zhounauts 2024

[robolvrr]

galaxy girl ༉‧₊˚.

long way from home? you must be awfully lonely.

[ donations : open! ]

swerve/rewind/whirl x gn! fem camgirl warnings: nsfw!

it's an accident.

ultra magnus had pretty much declared no "contraband" allowed aboard, unless it was bought ethically and consumed ethically. whatever that meant.

"it's in the guidelines", he'd said. "and we can't just abandon the rules. it's what prevents this place from caving into vicious decline."

in short? "don't have fun guys. i'm a giant pole in the mud."

so it wasn't all that surprising when that got thrown out the window. it was usually little things. some other-planetary historical junk. doo-dads and whatchamacallits. brainstorm had a terrible habit of smuggling shit that no doubt would actually blow up the place.

when swerve started suggesting smuggling entertainment, in efforts to of course make the bar a little more interesting, not many disagreed. granted he has to keep it a total secret (though we all know the ships gossip can only keep his mouth shut a cycle a time.)

from the sound of it? he's found something good.

"now listen. i paid an arm and a servo for this, so i better not hear any complaints. don't ask me how i got to work - because i don't know!"

a groan cuts through his speech. whirl chitters in his seat, banging the table.

"get on with it! i don't have all night to hear you toot your own pipes."

swerve doesn't even crinkle his smile.

"oh cmon, don't be like that pal. you guys don't even know what i have!" he turns around, bent behind the bar top as he rummages through belongings.

he's gotten a mildly entertained "first viewership party" consisting of whirl, rewind, aaaaaand...

well. the others weren't too interested in one on one time, all making up great excuses to just "wait until it's ready."

a thin, screened device is plopped onto bar top.

rewind stares.

"... a geriatric electronic. swerve wow you've.. you've really outdone yourself there."

his frown turns to a pout and he moves it away before whirl has a chance to crush it.

"hey. don't say that. it's not the device, it's what's on the device. i'm talking connections outside the species. full, galactic communication. for free!"

rewind looks a little dubious. "i don't know. you've been scammed before. what if it doesn't work-"

"rewind, buddy, i love you, really, i do. but that last time doesn't count because i was totally given some very misleading information---"

whirls servos jolt forward with frustrated ease. he almost yanks the poor thing wide open.

"will ya both stop yapping my processor off! just show the damn thing! i am missing out on prime wrecker -"

the screen finally lights up. the trio quiet down, and it's funny, because they have to crowd around the smaller screen and there's some shoving and grumbling before they can actually see. it opens up to a "browser" - that's what the broker called it.

a used "laptop" but working functionally and much less sophisticated than any of the other tech they frequently used. wasn't a surprise they were so advanced compared to their spacial neighbors.

the browser had a chat pinned at the right. some of the language was understandable but most was not. either way it was moving too fast and that wasn't what was catching attention either.

it was you.

you look to be in a room. berthroom?

"bedroom", swerve corrected rewind quietly. what? he's seen enough movies.

it's pale and pink and soft. lacking alloy, or hard surfaces. it's so painfully.. soft looking. and you are too. your hair is pinned up and there's something small and cylinder strapped to the inside of your thigh. the wire is taped. your face is partially hidden under a thin mask, though your nose and lips are visible. lace and sheer mesh plaster your frame.

"... is that a fragging fleshie."

swerve bites his servo. oh primus, what did he buy?!?

"uh. it appears it is."

whirl squints. his golden optic trains on the movement you provide. how your fingers trail up your waist. when you tap back to your viewers on the keyboard, giving cheeky laughs and little looks down your cleavage.

"... she's tiny. could probably squeeze her and she'd yelp like a turbo fox."

rewind shifts uncomfortable. leave it to whirl to make things weird.

"that's what you're focusing on? not the fact that swerve just smuggled on. organic porn onto the ship?!"

swerve shushes them both, loud. he feels admittedly a little hot under his visor. you're not looking at them, it's not how the camera works - you are broadcasting yourself. but it certainly feels like you've got that coquette, impish gaze all for him, sighing soft and starting to move your hips. he's not a prude.

he's seen plenty of those human movies and some of them had the species interfacing thrown in. it's all acting, though.

this feels raw. feels like he's being a little pervert voyeur.

suddenly, he has the urge to go back to his habsuite and loosen his modesty panels some. they feel tight.

"you like that, sunshines?"

amidst the baffled bickering, your voice coyly whispers and tugs their attention, forces their heads to turn. you got closer to your camera, turning around until your knees rest on the pillow.

neither of them can even describe what they're looking at. you don't have a spike, and your valve looks nothing like any cybertronian. but it's wet and pink and messy. there's something pink plugging up the other hole too. it's got that same, soft fluff as your nightgown at the end. whirl's knee hits the table hard.

"you guys have all been so good for me. i think it's high time you get your rewards. i love when i can make you all happy. mmn.."

several dings blast the speakers. the device on your thigh buzzes. you sing the prettiest note of pleasure any of them have ever had the millions of years to experience.

your face goes into the pillow. every donation is met with whimpers and thank yous and whiny support.

"primus. oh my.. geez. frag. she's so... it's so flexible. you're recording this right? rewind, tell me you are."

"i am, swerve, shush!"

you look so cute. they can't explain why.

maybe it's because you know most of the viewers aren't your kind, but your smaller frame is still just as enticing. your skin glistens as you kick your legs, overwhelmed. stockings peel down and it's about the sexiest thing since wireplay.

"yoooo, swerve!"

the three mechs almost yell in unison. the laptop is shut hard. swerve is the first to turn around. his smile looks dopey and he sucks at lying.

"heyyyyyyy. heyyyyyy. do what do i owe the pleasure, captain? didn't ya hear? opening hours changed for today!"

rodimus quirked a brow-ridge. weird. "uh-huh. did you? sorry, didn't know." didn't remember. he probably wasn't listening. "hoo, anyways. i need you to look into hosting an event. you see, there's been some in-fighting with the crew."

"how awful!" swerves dentae grits. his smile is bordering painful. rodimus pats his shoulder and the last thing he wants is to be touched by anyone when his spike is threatening to chub.

"yeah, i know. lack of camaraderie just won't do. makes a spark hurt, you know? so, i had a brilliant idea. you are gonna host a party. a big one! one that not even ultra magnus can question, because he'll be invited. unfortunately."

"super!" by the stars above, strike him down now!

"see, i knew you were the minibot for the job. i dunno why they always complain about you."

"shucks, thanks -- wait what?"

rodimus continues. whirl has long stalked off but from the sound of crunching metal on his exit, he's just as pissed that he's gotten a bit of a spike kill. or maybe he's just mad a flesh bag has gotten him riled up. probably both.

but one thing is painfully clear. this?

best purchase of his life.

[freakyformula]

Special celebration

Summary: Mercedes wins and Toto wants a special celebration.

A/N: This one is short, sorry

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, CNC, praise kink, size kink, creampie

Word count: 1k

You cry out as you feel Toto's thick cock enter your small cunt with force, feeling like you're about to split in two. Usually he'd be gentle and take his time, but not today... Today he was determined to ruin you.

But hey, let's rewind.

You were sat on your high chair at the Mercedes garage, guiding Lewis through the last couple of laps as his race engineer, tapping your pen on the table nervously.

Then feeling of Lewis crossing the finish line in P1 was indescribable.

"That was absolutely phenomenal, Lewis, great job!" You yell through the headphones.

You pull your headphones off as he drivers into the pit lane, running with the team to get a glimpse the winner.

As you're standing below the podium, listening to god save our gracious queen again with tears in your eyes, you feel Toto's, (you know it's his) hand on your hip, pulling you closer to his warmth.

"My office, 10 minutes. Special celebration." He leans down and whispers. You shudder at his words and nod approvingly, crossing your legs in order to avoid your wet patch growing in your panties from soaking through your tight jeans.

Special celebration was the phrase you and Toto used when either of you wanted to do consensual non concent, you had other phrases for other activities too. You found it effective and safe, knowing that Toto wouldn't do anything unless you gave him permission.

You walk up the stairs to his office, and take a few deep breaths, bracing yourself for what's to come.

As you walk up to his office, you knock. No answer. Another knock. You look around, confusion evident on your face. You pull on the door handle and the door slides open. Slowly, you walk into the room with light steps, looking around for signs of Toto.

Suddenly, a hand is wrapped around your mouth, leaving you at the mercy of the unknown person. You hear the man kicking the door shut and fidgeting with the lock. When you get a whiff of his cologne, you recognize it as Toto's, and you instantly relax in his grasp. You definitely felt safe with the man, having set boundaries early on in your relationship.

He picks you up with one arm and throws the pens and papers on his desk to the floor, placing you down instead. He quickly pulls his already unbuttoned shirt off and ties it around your wrists, leaving you at his mercy. He makes quick work of your jeans, pulling them down your slender legs, and accidentally rips your shirt open, having no time to unbutton it.

He moves his gaze and fingers down between your legs and feels your wetness through your panties. He lets out a low grunt at the feeling, knowing that he did this to you, he had this effect on you and your sopping pussy.

Then he turns you around, with your back to him leaving your ass exposed. He starts caressing your ass cheeks, parting them, taking a look at your asshole and pussy from this perspective. The feeling is ecstatic and you buck your hips in order to relieve the desperation you're feeling. You stop immediately when you feel a nasty slap on your left buttcheek.

"Stop that immediately." He growls in your ear, and slaps your right cheek to make it even.

You hear the clinging of his belt and you swear you could cum then and there.

"What are you doing to me?" You ask with a innocent face.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, hmmm? I need you to just take it."

As you feel his rock hard member between your lips, you shudder, knowing that you're gonna be in pain in a minute. He slides it up and down a couple of times, collecting your slick and teasingly pressing his tip into your small hole.

You cry out as you feel Toto's thick cock enter your small cunt with force, feeling like you're about to split in two. Usually he'd be gentle and take his time, but not today... Today he was determined to ruin you.

You cry out brokenly, sobbing in pain. Toto gives you no time to adjust to his size and starts pumping you without mercy.

"Toto... Hurts-" You manage to get out from your wide open gape.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and take my cock?" He asks, making sure you're okay with it at the same time.

"I'm going to be a good girl, Toto." You confirm. His pace is unforgiving and you can't help flinching away from him in pain. "Please Toto, stop, it hurts!" You try to make him stop.

He pulls out, taking you by surprise. Afraid that he'd taken your words literally, you look back at him. He looks back at you and tuts as he pulls your black lace panties down your legs. When his cock finds its way inside you again you let out an audible grunt. Toto stuffs your panties into your mouth, using it as a gag, as he's tired of hearing your pleads.

He's just here to take what's his, and he will get it. His pace quickens when he feels your pussy tightening, which only means that you're getting close to that sweet release.

"Cum for me, schatzi. Be a good girl for me." He pleads, out of breath.

His words push you over the edge and you feel Toto's hands around your neck and mouth, doing his best to silence you. Toto enjoyed the challenge of fucking in his office, knowing that his employees were walking by right outside. And honestly, you enjoyed it too, even if you never thought you would.

And just like that, his impending orgasm was triggered by your tightening walls around his pulsating cock and he filled your cunt up with his white cream. He pressed all of him inside of you, wanting his cum to reach as far inside as possible.

You collapsed on his desk together, tired from the days events. Toto let's out a sigh of content. "I hope I didn't hurt you?"

You giggle. "I won't be able to walk for days!"

"That's okay... I can carry you." He softly kisses your temple.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

🔦Rewind AU Post: What Really Happened To Genet, a.k.a. Reader:

(Warning! Implied suicide ideation and implied identity death! If these topics are upsetting for you, or scare you, please do not read!!!)

Genet (Reader) had been with the X-Men from a very young age. Theu saw them grow, and change, and lose members while gaining new ones. Sometimes the times were good, and everyone was getting along. Other times, it was... bad. The team, though they loved each other in their own ways, fought a lot. Enough that Genet was uses to it. It happened. It was their normal.

They finally reach an age and capability where they can be put on the team. It's good for a while. Sure, nothing is perfect, bad things still happen, but at least it always seems to get solved by the end. Everything gets better, eventually. Then Morph is gone, and Jubilee is there, and Scott and Logan are spitting mad at each other, and everything just seems to get worse.

Then after months, h*ck, a year or two, everything seems fixed. Morph is back, Beast is out of jail, the team seems to be healing... And then someone frames Reader for betraying the team. And everyone buys it.

It hurts, worse than the endless screaming matches of the past or being left alone when the adults were out saving the world or caught up in their own issues. This... theu said they weren't one of them. They said they should have known they'd be trouble. They said they should have never taken Reader in.

And that breaks them.

In the end, they discover the truth, they stop the villain, Genet's name is cleared, and all seems forgiven... Except it isn't.

Genet isn't... they just... they can't let this go...

Their team, H*ll, their family, the only people they've ever known, who raised them, said they didn't want them. That they didn't trust them. That they basically hated them, if only in that moment. And Genet can't forget it.

Late at night it haunts them. It taunts them in their dreams, turns bad ones into nightmares, makes them weep, and keeps tearing them down. It's too much. It doesn't matter if everyone acts like it never happened, or that all is forgiven, because it's not to Genet. It's not over, it's not forgotten, it's not forgiven.

They can't live like this. They can't live with this.

They leave a note. It doesn't have much written on it, just a thank you for taking them in, a note for Kevin, and saying goodbye.

Genet wants to be gone. They don't want to be, anymore. They want to forget the X-Men, forget the Brotherhood, forget mutants, forget everything. They want to not exist anymore. But their powers... they'd bring them back. So they go to the only person they can think of who can take them away...

Sinister is not someone they trust. It's a simple fact, and has tried and true evidence behind it. But at this point, they're beyond caring. They're willing to take the risk, to possibly be hurt or scr*wed over or worse, if it means maybe they won't exist anymore.

They lay it out as simply as they can, as best they can, while feeling hollow: They want Genet to cease to exist, their memory, their life, their connections, gone and null and void. Sinister wants to get a win over the X-Men, or maybe show his power, or maybe he'd want a future threat out of the way. Genet wants him to take away their mutations, destroy the memories Genet had, and whatever is left behind... he can do what he wants with it. As long as they don't exist anymore, then it doesn't matter to them.

Sinister is a lot more gentle with them than they expected. Maybe it's because his first willing subject in over a century; maybe he's being cautious; or maybe he does have a small drop of humanity left in him. But either way, Genet ends up strapped to a table, they're given a sedative, and then everything starts to blur out, fuzziness around the edges and dissolving into static in their mind...

(Sinister felt bad for this young mutant. But they wouldn't need to worry anymore. Dr. Essex had everything covered, and nothing that bothered Genet will bother Reader anymore... And he has the perfect, small pocket universe to put them in, to keep them out of trouble and away from prying eyes... But he will need to make sure that nothing of their past comes back to haunt them... Nothing a few pills of his can't fix...)

@sugar-soda @thewickedweiner

[coolemmasulivan2]

Rewinding Us | 5

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Summary: You and Mason built a love story over five years, but after an accident, your memories are wiped away, including any feelings for your constant bickering “rival”. Can you remember your love story with Mason, or will you have to start all over?

Word count: 3582

You can read more chapters here.

Don't wanna close my eyes Don't wanna fall asleep 'Cause I'd miss you baby And I don't wanna miss a thing

You hated him! At that moment, you truly hated him. But deep down, you knew the truth: you couldn't sleep without him.

"You're sleeping on the sofa, Mount!" You exclaimed, your voice laced with irritation.

"Come on, Y/n! Seriously?" Mason replied, disbelief evident in his tone. "It wasn't my fault. The girl lost her balance and fell into my lap. It's not like I grabbed her—"

"Stop defending her!" You retorted. "She obviously did it on purpose. She knew I was watching."

You'd been at a birthday party of a family member when the girl you despised since childhood had made a scene, falling into Mason's lap just to piss you off. Your boyfriend, ever the gentleman, had played along, making it seem like everything was fine.

"It was just an incident, it wasn't a make-out session." He shouted as you stormed into the bedroom.

Grabbing his pillow and a blanket from the wardrobe. "Here!" You said, throwing them at Mason, who was sitting on the sofa. "Have a nice night." You said sarcastically, walking away. Mason let out a sigh as he heard you slamming the bedroom door.

An hour or two passed, but you were still awake, tossing and turning, feeling the emptiness beside you. Alone in the bed, staring at the ceiling, you knew you'd exaggerated. Vanessa had always been annoying, but you'd let your jealousy get the better of you.

With a groan, you sat up. You had no problem sleeping alone when he was away, but sleeping alone when he was so close was torture.

Getting out of bed, you walked out into the dark living room. The moonlight filtering through the windows provided the only light.

In the living room, you saw Mason sleeping soundly. Your first instinct was to grab a pillow and hit him, but you resisted the urge. How could he sleep so peacefully without you?

Gathering your courage, you shook his shoulder gently. "Mason?" He mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "Mase?

"What?" He whined, his voice filled with sleeplessness. He didn't open his eyes.

"Come back to bed!" You said, your voice barely a whisper.

He groaned and shifted, trying to get comfortable. You started walking away, but Mason grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

Without hesitation, you lay down next to him on the sofa, instantly relaxing as his warmth enveloped you. Mason quickly put his arm around you, his face nuzzling into your hair. Within minutes, you were fast asleep.

You opened your eyes as you felt Ace jumping from the bed. You had left the door slightly open, and with the help of his keen nose, he'd pulled it open and escaped, leaving you alone staring at the ceiling.

The memory left you mute. Each memory felt like reliving it without actually controlling your body, like watching a movie from the inside of the main character. It was a bizarre and unsettling sensation.

Letting out a sigh, you got out of bed. It was still early, but sleep was out of the question. You left the room barefoot, yawning as you walked. You could hear Mason's soft voice, talking to Ace, and without realizing it, you smiled.

He was sitting on the sofa, writing something on paper. Ace, ever the playful pup, was trying to bite his hand playfully.

"Ace, stop it!" Mason exclaimed, laughing at the silly young dog. "Dude, I'm trying to leave a note. Let me write."

You leaned against the wall, watching them, but the dog quickly caught your presence. Ace's ears perked up, his tail wagging excitedly as he bounded towards you. Mason turned, a smile spreading across his face.

"Morning!" He said, his voice warm and welcoming. He was already dressed, ready for the day.

"Hi, Mason!" You replied, returning his smile. "Morning."

As Mason's gaze briefly lingered on your legs, a blush crept onto your cheeks as you realised you were in your oversized t-shirt and panties. You self-consciously tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it down.

"Are you leaving already?" You asked, changing the subject.

"Yep!" Mason confirmed. "Training starts in twenty minutes."

"Sleep well?"

"Best I've had since your accident." He replied, his eyes holding a hint of affection.

You nodded, a warm feeling spreading through you. It seemed that having Mason back home had a calming effect on you both.

Ace sat down at your feet, watching you and Mason with curious eyes, sensing the awkwardness.

"I made coffee!" Mason announced, gesturing towards the kitchen.

"You didn't have to."

"I know. But you don't know how to make coffee." Mason said with a playful grin on his face. You opened your mouth, pretending to be offended.

"Rude! Weren't you supposed to be nice? And supportive?"

Mason chuckled. "Sorry!"

You rolled your eyes playfully, hiding your smile. "Want to have breakfast with me?"

Mason's eyes widened, and he bit his lip. "I can't! I'm already running late." He glanced at his phone, then paused, a hopeful look in his eyes. "But… can I take you out tonight? A date?"

A blush crept onto your cheeks as a warm wave of excitement washed over you. "Tonight?"

"If you're busy, we can—"

You shook your head quickly. "I'd love that."

Mason's eyes lit up. "Tonight's good?" You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. "I'll pick you up at 7 pm!"

"Okay!"

You clenched your teeth, your voice rising. "You're a pig, Mount!"

"And you're a spoiled brat!"

You were in Ben's house, having dinner when your casual and usual banter escalated into a heated argument after Mason made a stupid comment about a girl he had slept with.

"Would you like someone to say that about your sisters?" You demanded, crossing your arms over your chest.

"What did I say?" He protested, his voice laced with frustration. "You're twisting my words."

"Yeah, right!" You said sarcastically. "Because she'd love to hear what you said about the night you spent with her."

Mason let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Y/n!" He said, his voice low and dangerous as he stepped closer. "If you're jealous, just admit it."

"You disgust me." You spat, your eyes filled with anger.

"The feeling is mutual." He replied, his voice cold.

Mason strolled onto the green pitch, a wide grin on his face. While he was always a cheerful guy, his teammates could sense that something extra special was going on. Bruno, noticing the twinkle in his eye, couldn't resist asking.

"What put you in such a good mood today?" The Portuguese player asked.

Mason chuckled. "Just the usual. Happy to be playing football."

Bruno raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but there's something else."

A mischievous glint appeared in Mason's eyes. "I'm taking Y/n out on a date tonight."

His teammates erupted in cheers and whistles, their excitement infectious. Lisandro wrapped an arm around Mason's shoulder and ruffled his hair playfully. "So, what's the plan, Romeo?" He teased.

Mason grinned, a touch of pink colouring his cheeks. "I'm not sure yet. I want to make it special."

Lisandro nodded approvingly. "Need any help planning? We're all here for you, mate."

"Yeah." Bruno agreed.

Mason chuckled. "Thanks, guys. I'll keep that in mind."

You closed the door as quickly as you had opened it, but Mason's foot was stuck in the gap, preventing it from closing completely.

"I just want to talk!" He said, his voice low and insistent.

"I don't want to talk to you. Go away." You replied, pushing against the door.

Mason shifted his foot, allowing the door to swing open slightly. He then placed his hand against it, blocking your attempt to close it. "I want to apologize."

"You already sent a message. Now go." You snapped, your patience wearing thin.

Mason let out a frustrated sigh. With a forceful push, he opened the door wider, causing you to stumble backwards.

You rolled your eyes, heading into the kitchen where you'd been preparing dinner. Mason followed, closing the door behind him. Your house was cosy, filled with the comforting scent of vanilla.

"Can you please stop for a second and hear me out?" He pleaded.

You stabbed the knife into the wooden cutting board. "What do you want, Mount?"

"We need to talk about it and you know it."

"No, we don't." You disagreed, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't help but glance at his lips, a forbidden memory flashing through your mind.

"You kissed me back!" He said. Your hand instinctively went to your neck, the sensation of his lips lingering there. "If you didn't want it, you would have pushed me away."

"We were drunk!"

Mason furrowed his eyebrows. "No, we weren't."

"I WAS!" You shouted, your denial fueled by fear and confusion. The only sound in the room was the soft music drifting from another part of the house.

"You're lying." Mason insisted, his voice filled with doubt. The thought that you might have been drunk that night shattered his heart.

He was right, you were lying, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Your relationship with Mason was a mess, exactly as it should be. The idea of having feelings for him was unthinkable. It had to be.

"I was drunk." You repeated, swallowing hard. "Kissing you was the last thing I wanted to do." Your voice trembled as you spoke, your heart breaking slowly, painfully. "We've been fighting since the first day we met. What do you expect? This isn't a fairytale. We're not going to fall in love and live happily ever after."

"Why not try?" Mason asked, his voice filled with hope.

You let out a sarcastic chuckle. "What?"

He walked around the kitchen island and stopped beside you, his presence suddenly making you feel hotter.

Mason took a deep breath. "I don't know what's going on, but every time I see you, I want to kiss you." He looked down at your lips, his eyes filled with a vulnerability you'd never seen before. "That silly bet, when I kissed you, made me realize that maybe there was something there. And the other night when we kissed, it just confirmed it."

You muttered, "Stop it."

"I like you, Y/n!" He confessed his voice barely a whisper.

You stared at him, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wanted to push him away, to deny the feelings that were starting to stir within you. But another part of you was drawn to him, to the intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his touch.

Mason leaned in slowly, his eyes seeking your permission. You felt a flutter in your chest as he drew closer, his breath fanning against your lips. With a trembling breath, you closed your eyes and let him kiss you.

You were rummaging through the fridge, searching for ingredients for lunch, when the doorbell rang. Ace barked and raced towards the door, his tail wagging furiously. You followed him, swinging the door open to find your friend and coworker, Dianne.

"Di!" You exclaimed, your eyes widening in surprise. "What are you doing here?" You pulled her into a warm embrace, missing her presence after her two-week holiday.

"I just arrived." Dianne replied, her smile radiating warmth. "Since it's your day off, I thought it would be a great chance to catch up and introduce you to someone."

You glanced behind her to see a woman petting Ace, who seemed to have taken an immediate liking to her.

"You've grown so much, Ace!" The woman exclaimed, her voice filled with affection. "You're such a good boy."

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to place her. "Do I know you?"

"We do! Very well, actually." The woman stood up and smiled at you, her eyes sparkling affectionately. "It's nice to met you again, Y/n. I'm Anouska."

Mason sat nervously in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he parked in front of your parents' house. He glanced over at you, who was calmly looking at the house in front.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You turned to face him, a reassuring smile on your lips. "Of course I am."

He nodded, but his anxiety didn't subside. He remembered how much they used to hate each other. It seemed almost impossible that they were now in a relationship.

"What if they don't approve?" He asked, his voice filled with doubt.

Y/n squeezed his hand. "They will. They'll see how happy we are together."

Mason chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I guess they've been watching us hate each other for so long, they'll be shocked to see us actually getting along. It's like watching a cat and a mouse suddenly become best friends."

You laughed. "Don't be so dramatic. They'll come around." You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you. "Look at me! I'm with you. You make me happy and you treat me right, and that's exactly the kind of man my parents want me to be with."

Mason looked at you with adorable puppy dog eyes. "I love you, beautiful."

You smiled. "I love you too."

You sat at the restaurant, laughing at the stories Dianne and Anouska were sharing about your times together. It was a really nice get-together, full of laughs and memories.

You learned that Anouska was Luke Shaw's wife, one of Mason's teammates. The realization brought a wave of excitement. You remember Luke since you had always been a football fan.

"I can't believe I know Luke Shaw!" You exclaimed.

Dianne and Anouska chuckled. "Luke's not the only player you know." Dianne replied.

"I know, I know!" You said, a smile spreading across your face.

"He really likes you." Anouska said, making you blush. "He's always saying that you're the best thing that happened to Mason. We had some good times together. When you moved here, we did a bunch of double dates."

"It's a shame I can't remember." You said sadly.

Dianne gave you a reassuring look. "You will! Everything's going to be fine."

"Yes." Anouska agreed. "And we're here to help you in any way we can." Just as Anouska finished speaking, her phone rang. "Sorry, love. It's Luke." She said, answering the call.

While Anouska chatted quietly with Luke on the phone, you asked Dianne about her trip to Spain. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she talked. A contagious smile played on her lips.

As Anouska finished her call with Luke, Dianne and you turned to face her.

"Luke sends a kiss to both of you." Anouska announced, a smile playing on her lips.

"Sweet as always!" Dianne replied.

Anouska placed her phone on the table. "Y/n Y/l/n, when were you going to tell us you're going on a date with Mason?"

Dianne's jaw dropped in surprise. "What? When?"

You bit your lip and played with your earring. "Today!" You whispered, your cheeks blushing.

"Where is he taking you?"

"I don't know. He's picking me up at seven."

"What are we doing here? We need to go shopping!" Anouska exclaimed, jumping out of her seat.

Mason knocked on the door at exactly 7 PM, his heart pounding in his chest. On the other side you took a deep breath and opened the door.

He looked up, prepared to speak, but at the sight of you, he fell speechless. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Hi!" He managed to stammer out.

"Hi."

"You look... wow, you look incredible." He said, his eyes scanning your figure.

You were wearing a red dress, heels, and your hair was styled in a messy yet elegant braid.

"Thank you." You said, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "You don't look too bad yourself."

He was dressed in a classic black suit and a simple white shirt. He looked handsome. Incredibly handsome.

"Are you ready to go?"

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. As you stepped out of your house, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement.

The restaurant was a charming and intimate space, perfect for a private date. Mason had chosen it carefully, knowing that you wouldn't want, and neither did he, to be interrupted by his fans during your time together.

The food was exquisite, and with Mason's company, you barely noticed the time passing.

"My family is coming next weekend, and they would love to see you." Mason said, his voice filled with nervousness. He quickly added: "Only if you're comfortable, of course."

Your heart skipped a beat. Over the years, you got to know Mason's family. They had always been incredibly kind and welcoming, and for the past five years, they had been your own family. However, the lack of memories made it a bit daunting.

"I…" You hesitated.

Mason gave you a reassuring smile. "Don't overthink it, Y/n. They love you, but if you're not comfortable, it's okay."

"I'm just… The only memory I have of them is from seeing them at your games at Chelsea."

"I know, I know." Mason said, understanding your hesitation. "Just think about it." You nodded. "They love you as much as I do." You said, blushing slightly at the mention of love. Mason didn't seem to notice. "They miss having you around." He continued. "Summer is always asking about you."

A warm smile spread across your face. "I really want to meet her! I guess I was her favourite aunt!" You joked.

"Yes! You still are."

You sat down on the carpet, helping Summer with her puzzle. She was wearing a floral dress almost identical to the one you were wearing.

"Where's Uncle Mase?" She asked, looking around as she noticed you were the only one sitting beside her.

"He's with the baby. Your little sister!" You replied, searching for the missing piece of her puzzle.

"Hmm." She grumbled, her pout evident. You looked up to see her looking upset and a little jealous.

"What is it?" You asked gently.

"He's always with her!" She was jealous and it was just the cutest scene ever. "I want him to play with me."

You chuckled at her adorable jealousy. "I know, pumpkin, but your sister is very little and Uncle Mason needs to give her lots of cuddles, just like he did with you when you were born."

She shrugged, her pout softening slightly. She looked at you for a moment.

"Can you give me cuddles, Auntie Y/n?" She asked, her voice small.

You were surprised. Cuddles were typically a Mason and Summer thing. "You want my cuddles?" She nodded eagerly. "Of course I can give you cuddles!" You said, smiling. "Let's watch Moana and cuddle on the sofa."

Just as you and Summer were getting comfortable, Mason entered the room, a playful grin on his face. "Hey, I thought I was your cuddle buddy!"

Summer cuddled more against you. "Antie Y/n is my favourite now."

"Mason, what are we doing here? It's late." You whispered, your voice barely audible in the empty parking lot.

Mason smirked at you and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards one of the stadium doors. A security guard in a black uniform opened the door for you, and Mason thanked him.

As you and Mason walked hand-in-hand onto the pitch, you couldn't help but feel a sense of astonishment and wonder. You had never been inside the pitch before.

"This is incredible!" You said, looking around in amazement. Mason squeezed your hand.

Mason led you to the center of the pitch, and you were surprised at how extensive it felt.

"What do you think?" He asked, his voice filled with excitement.

You were speechless. "I can't believe you all ran around this for 90 minutes. It's huge."

Mason laughed. "We got used to it." He lay down on the grass and gestured for you to join him. "Come here. Lay down."

It had been a beautiful day in Manchester, with the sun shining. The night was warm, and the grass was dry.

"Look at the sky!" Mason said, breaking the silence.

You followed his gaze and found yourself mesmerized by the vast expanse of stars above. The city lights created a soft glow, illuminating the night sky like a painting.

"It's beautiful." As you lay there, gazing up at the stars, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of peace. "Is this the part where you'll teach me where to find the Great Bear?"

Mason chuckled. "I'll leave that to another date." You laughed.

You raised an eyebrow. "And who told you that we'll have another date?" Mason looked at you, a hint of panic in his eyes. "I'm just kidding." You said, laughing.

His face relaxed into a beautiful smile. "You're going to be the death of me." Mason turned to face you, his eyes filled with a soft intensity. "I'm glad you're here."

You smiled. "Me too."

You both gazed at each other, caught in the moment. It felt like time stood still. As you both leaned in. You could feel Mason's breath on your face, your heart pounded in your chest.

His lips met yours, a soft, gentle touch that sent a shiver down your spine. You kissed him back, feeling a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. You cupped his face, felling his beard against your palm and Mason pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

As you pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, you knew that this was just the beginning. You were falling for Mason, and it felt incredible.

[coff33andb00ks]

Poison - LN

Hopeless, Part 3 {1 - Hopeless} {2 - Luxury}

Lando Norris x fem!reader / reader x Charles Leclerc) summary: perfect couldn't keep this love alive, we were always meant to say goodbye songs: already gone by sleeping at last word count: 5414 warnings: angst, reader says things she shouldn't, angst, lando says worse things, angst, charles is a bad fiance, alcohol use, oscar remains the only truly decent person in this series, angst, mentions of sexual situations (not explicit), oh and angst (not a happy ending) a.n.: I've really enjoyed writing this little series. thank you all for being as obsessed with heartbroken lando as I am <3 note: this picks up immediately after the ending of the first part {Hopeless}

You can't bring yourself to read Lando's texts. You're still in shock yourself, the last twelve hours a whirlwind that still has you spinning. So you leave that message thread untouched, and when he calls you for the tenth time you send it to voicemail, knowing you won't listen to it.

The one you listened to first thing this morning left an ache in your heart you're sure will never go away.

Is it true? You… A shaky breath, like he was fighting tears. You can't. What about – call me. Please.

You can't call him. You can't even read his texts, you don't know if you'll ever be able to speak to him. Your phone buzzes and you look at the voicemail notification, turning your phone facedown on the nightstand. Not now. You need to catch up with everything that's happened.

Behind you Charles groans and you squeeze your eyes shut as his arm tightens around you. He nuzzles the back of your head, humming while he presses kisses to your shoulder.

"Good morning," he murmurs.

You murmur it back to him, watching his hand slide down your arm to clasp yours. He lifts it, the morning sunlight catching the diamond on your finger. You're engaged. You still can't believe it. How had you gone from arguing in the garage to this? The night rewinds in your mind while Charles whispers sweet words.

The argument. Why? He'd said he'd wanted to spend the summer break in St. Tropez. After promising you over and over he would spend it with your family back in the States. St. Tropez was just a couple hours from Monaco, he could go there anytime, you rarely got to see your family. But it was his summer break, his money, his choice. Four words had burned on your tongue but you'd held them back, finally storming off to cool down.

Lando would take me.

Because of course he would. It wasn't a secret between you that he'd do everything within his power to make you happy. And you'd stood in the chilly night air, tempted to ask him to come with you to Cali for break, because you knew how much he loved LA. Then Charles had found you and…

Said all the right things.

Apologized. Validated your feelings. He'd forgotten, he was sorry, he would cancel his plans of course, the two of you would spend a lovely two weeks in California. He was so sorry, please, he would make it right.

And you'd forgiven him. As you always did.

He starts to pull away from you now, and you know it's time to get up and get ready for race day. The hotel room is a ridiculous mess, clothes from last night all over the floor, tipped over candles, scattered roses. You inwardly cringe, nodding when Charles suggests leaving a large tip for housekeeping. You tidy up a little while he's in the shower, because you can't not do it.

The ring feels heavy on your hand and you stop gathering the discarded clothes to stare at it. It's beautiful, if a little on the gaudy side, a large diamond solitaire set in platinum, diamonds all around.

"I know I have made mistakes, mon amour. But you have stood by my side and made me a better man. Please, say you'll stay by my side forever?"

It had all been too much. The roses, the candles, your favorite wine, the adoration in his eyes. You'd said yes, knowing you couldn't take the pain of saying no. And you couldn't take it back. It was too late.

Late night calls to his family in Monaco, FaceTiming with your sister and mom. Candlelit photos posted to social media.

You're going to marry Charles.

It's supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life but you feel like your world is turned upside down. You're supposed to be over the moon, already planning the wedding that you've had in mind since you were a little girl.

"We'll have the wedding of your dreams, chérie."

"What about your dream wedding?"

"My dream was you."

He'd said the right things.

You shower, standing under the hot water to ease the slight aches from the night before. He'd been more passionate than ever before, driving you over the edge countless times, twisting and bending your body with his, near constantly moaning his love for you.

There's a crowd of fans outside the hotel and you blink in surprise when they begin screaming their congratulations, still unused to the attention even after being with him for over a year. You smile and stay at his side while he signs a few things, wondering if you look as shell-shocked as you feel.

Leclerc's camera shy girlfriend, they call you online. Apparently you're goals, and you wonder what they would think if they knew the truth.

At the track it's even crazier, and you're reminded that he was called the grid's most eligible bachelor when you first began dating. How'd you pin him down, y/n?

You wish you knew.

By the time you reach the motorhome you never want to hear the word congratulations again. You stop outside, letting Leo down so he can do his business, freezing when you spot a McLaren uniform.

It's Oscar. You breathe a sigh of relief, nodding when Charles kisses your cheek and says he has to go chat with Max.

"C'mon, Leo," you encourage while the puppy sniffs the ground.

"Y/n."

You look up, smiling faintly as Oscar approaches. "Hey."

He looks at you, then at your left hand, slowly lifting his eyes to your face again. "Big night, yeah?"

"Yeah." Your cheeks hurt from your forced smile. "I guess it's a shock to everyone."

"Eh… You're right," he says. Squatting down to pet Leo, he stays down, watching the puppy. "Have you seen Lando?"

"I think Oscar suspects."

It's mumbled between heated kisses in the club bathroom. Lando moans, head falling back when your hands slip inside his jeans. "No he doesn't."

"He keeps looking at us." The heavy bass vibrates the door you're pressed against, and his hands push at your dress.

"Everyone's looking at you tonight."

Your protest to that dies on a moan because he's inside you and you forget Oscar exists.

"Not today," you tell him. Finally Leo pees in the tiny scrap of grass he found and you bend to pick him up.

"Have you talked to him?" Oscar asks softly.

"Is he missing?"

Oscar sighs, pushing upright. "He's in the garage."

You glance in that direction, even though you can't see the McLaren garage from where you are. Sighing, you hold Leo close, arms aching to hold someone else. Then, like he knows you're looking, you hear your phone start to vibrate in your purse. You don't have to look to know it's Lando.

"Are you happy?"

Your head slowly turns and you hold your breath as you look at Oscar. "What?"

"Your engagement."

You part your lips to tell him yes. To push the forced smile back into place and play the part of ecstatically happy fiancée to the Charles Leclerc. But all you can do is look at him while your phone stops buzzing. You don't know why you can pretend for everyone else, but not for Oscar.

He sighs, obviously reading the answer on your face. Giving his head a little shake, he folds his arms over his chest.

"I didn't—" You stop, not wanting to say the words out loud. You can't.

He tips his head to one side. "Didn't what."

Didn't mean to hurt Lando. Didn't mean to fall in love with him. Didn't mean to ruin your life. Didn't mean to make such a mess of everything. You blink, the past few months rushing through your mind.

"He deserves the truth, y/n." He says the words softly, and you don't get to ask which he before he turns and walks away.

Ferrari is ecstatic. Good press is good press, and apparently Charles getting engaged is great press. They want photos, a quick interview for their social media. They want you front and center in the garage, and the PR person encourages you to kiss Charles before he gets into his car.

You watch from inside the garage, feeling as though you're more on display than usual, a camera always cutting to you. Charles wins and you're forced to finally see Lando, who gets p2, because it would be weird if you didn't go out to congratulate your fiancé. During the chaos he turns to you and you're frozen, staring into his eyes.

He's smiling but there's heartbreak in his eyes. And you want to do whatever it takes to send it as far from as possible.

Someone bumps into him and he catches himself before he stumbles into you, his lips mouthing your name. Despite the noise around you, you can hear his pained sigh and then he's gone, eyes on you until he's swallowed up by the cameras.

The Monaco anthem. Charles beaming as he looks down at you from the podium. Champagne. He's so happy you can't help but smile.

Whenever your eyes stray to Lando next to him your smile dies.

The alcohol isn't doing its job. Lando downs another drink, heart beating to the same rapid beat of the song playing, and he tries to part the crowd with his mind, thoughts jumbled but he knows what he wants to see.

You.

The dancing, drinking bodies part and his desperate eyes finally land on you. Champagne has been flowing steadily since you and Charles walked in. The it couple.

He wish he could vomit, but all he can muster is a grimace, perfectly timed with a kiss between the happy couple. Taking a drink, he leans against the wall, head and heart pounding as he wills the alcohol to do what it's supposed to and numb everything. Instead it's only enhanced every bit of the pain and torture that's been in him since the first unanswered text.

"Mate."

It's Osc. He reaches out, grabbing his teammate's shoulder. "Osc!" He's happy to see him. Osc knows. Osc understands. Good old Oscar. "Sorry for calling you a sponge cat."

"Fuck, how much have you had?" Oscar asks.

"Don't worry 'bout me." He lifts his glass to take a sip, whining when it never reaches his mouth. Watching it, it occurs to him that Oscar took it from him. "Hey…"

"C'mon."

"Can we get me another drink? Some muppet stole mine," he says, leaning against his friend as he's led away.

"Sure, mate," Oscar yells above the music.

"Yay." Slinging an arm around him, Lando barely notices where they're going. He is pretty sure the bar is in the other direction… But Oscar knows best. "You're my best mate, mate, ya know that?"

Oscar patts his back. "Yeah."

"Thanks." Yay, a best mate. "Didn't mean it when I said you was a pain in my fuckin' ass, mate. Said it with love."

Oscar sighs so loudly Lando hears it over the music. "I know."

He blinks and they're outside. The air feels weird in his lungs and he coughs, swaying a little as he tries to catch himself on the back of the building. "Jesus."

"Do you wanna go?" Oscar asks.

He doesn't know. "But she's here." He's still not numb and he realizes there's not enough drinks in the world to deaden the pain. "She's here, Osc."

"I know." There's sympathy in his voice.

"Why'd she do it?" His voice cracks and he tries to breathe, tries to stop the tears but they're already burning his eyes. He pushes the heels of his palms against his face. "She loves me."

"Lando…"

"We n-never said it but we like, couldn't yeah? But I know she does. She told me." It doesn't sound right but he can't care right now, too busy trying to keep the tears from falling. "I love us."

"Us?"

"It's how we say it. Because we can't say it."

Need it. This. Us. Love it. This. Us.

"I love her, Osc." The last word breaks on a sob and he presses his hands tightly to his eyes but there's no stopping the tears. "Wasn't supposed to. Know that. But how can I not love her? Even before we had sex I loved her."

"Oh, mate." It's sad and understanding and there's a gentle hand on his shoulder.

And it all comes pouring out. A bit mixed up but he knows Oscar's smart enough to put it in the right order. How he had a little crush but liked being your friend. The feelings grew but he never dreamed – okay, sometimes he'd dreamed, he wasn't a fucking saint – you felt the same. How he truly never expected for those dreams to become reality or how lifechanging it would be. And while he tells it he lets the tears fall because trying to stop them is pointless.

"She's everything," he gasps, bracing his hands on his knees to keep from spinning with the world around him.

"I know, I know," Oscar says gently.

"I gotta go. Can… Can't watch them be so happy." And he laughs through the tears. "I want her happy but I can't see it."

"C'mon, we'll go."

He blinks, sways, and he's in his hotel room. A bottle of water appears in his hands and he stares at it then slowly lifts his head. "Osc."

"It's alright, drink it." His voice is warbles and Lando shakes his head to make sense of what's happening.

"She's gonna marry him," he whispers.

"Not right now, yeah? Drink your water."

"Why's it hurt so much," he mumbles after sipping the water. "Love's s'posed to be the best thing."

"It can be," Oscar says. "But sometimes it hurts."

"It's why I stayed away from it for so long. Didn't wanna get hurt." He leans his head back, feels the softness of the pillow. "But…"

"But you fell."

"Yeah," he whispers. "Dived right in and was over my head 'fore I knew it was happening. And… This time it hurts. A lot."

Oscar hums and Lando reaches out, slapping his arm.

"Thanks Osc."

"Anytime, Lando."

He's silent, and just when Oscar is moving to turn off the lights he speaks again. "You think they'll get married in Monaco?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"She wants a beach wedding. There's a spot near her parents'… Like a look over place?" Still clutching the empty water bottle, he gestures with his hand. "Showed me pictures once. Pretty place."

"Yeah?" Oscar turns off the lights and returns to the chair by the bed.

"Sunset. She wants it at sunset. With her niece as flower girl. Doesn't want anything big or fancy. Just people she loves who love her."

"Sounds nice."

"And a honeymoon in Ireland. It's where her nan's from, and she loves it. County Waterford. That's why she loves that crystal thing I got her for her birthday."

"What'd you get her?"

"A vase. Cuz she loves the crystal. And flowers."

Your coworkers are over the moon. A wedding! So exciting! Ah, young love! Have you picked out a date? Color scheme? Where will it be?

No, but you're thinking next spring. Blush pink and sage green. You're looking at different places.

Yes, you're so excited. Still hasn't set in that you're engaged. Oh of course you've never been happier. You're so in love.

You hate yourself for having become an expert in lying. The venue has already been reserved. Charles flew your mom out, and your dress is being made . It's easy to just let everyone else do the planning for you, because it's not your dream wedding.

Not that you've spoken to him. You haven't seen him since the club the night after your engagement. And then, only for a split second. You've opted to stay at home, lying to Charles and saying you were doing wedding planning.

No one needs to know that you spend race weekends in front of your laptop, hugging your knees and watching every scrap of footage you can of Lando. Just to check on him. Because you still can't bring yourself to return his calls and texts. They don't come as often now, and he no longer leaves you voicemails, but you haven't been able to tap his name on your phone.

And you're too much of a fucking coward to show up at a race and see him in person.

He looks okay. A little tired, and maybe you're the only one that notices his smile doesn't reach his eyes. Maybe not. Maybe others can tell that he's a little more subdued in post-race interviews. Or maybe not.

"And are you looking forward to the break?" the interviewer asks.

He smiles. "Yeah… Hoping to spend some time alone. Get out of my head for a bit, yeah?"

"Anywhere special?"

"Nah, just away from everything. A quiet beach or something." He shrugs in that slightly self-conscious way that always makes you want to hold him.

He walks off and you drain the last of your wine, closing the laptop and dragging a hand over your face. You have to finish packing for the trip back home. Snatching out your earbuds, you reach for your phone. Open your messages.

Stare at Lando's name and open the thread. It'll be tomorrow before Charles gets home, you can spend the night crying over texts.

-Were you gonna tell me? -he's cheated on you since day one why would you marry him -does he make you happy? -if he makes you happy I'll be happy for you -tell me he makes you happy -please y/n -talk to me

Those were from six weeks ago. For four weeks it was more of the same. Until…

-I miss you -miss your smile. and your laugh. and that cute little snort that you hate but I think it's beautiful. -miss your hugs. they always make me feel like I'm safe -I just miss you -I miss you dancing in my living room and pretending not to notice when I steal cupcakes. -I even miss your fucking sushi.

Your eyes well with tears. You miss him, too. You miss his hyena laugh and how he'd forget the simplest of words when explaining something. You miss his hugs, how you always felt like nothing could affect you as long as you were in his arms. You miss the dancing, spinning and bouncing until you were breathless and dizzy. You even miss his fucking chicken nuggets.

-Will you come to Spa? -Just wanna see you again. -Guess you're not coming. -Hope you're doing ok. He told Osc you're going back home for break. I know you're excited. Cali girl. -I wish I knew I could see you over break. -Call me when you can -there's so much I never got to say -that I cant put in a text -I miss us

You stare at that last text, sent five minutes before the start of the race, and you let out a sob. And before you can stop yourself you're composing a text. You delete the words and start over several times, finally closing your messages with a frustrated groan. Your finger hovers over the call button, and you punch it, taking a deep breath before you tap Lando's name on the favorites list, where it's been since he called you his bestie.

It rings once. And you realize he's probably busy, probably in another interview or—

"Hello?" He sounds panicked. Out of breath. Like he can't believe it's you.

"Lando," you whisper.

"God – fuck, hang on—" There's rustling and you can hear others speaking in the background. "Yeah, I know, it's an emergency," he says in a rush to someone and you muffle a sob, because now you're crying you can't stop. You hear him saying something about having to take this, he's sorry. "You still there?"

"Y-yeah."

"I'm – hang on, I gotta get somewhere quiet."

You can imagine him sprinting away from the crowd, avoiding eye contact so no one tries to talk to him. Putting it on speaker, you set the phone down and hug your knees to your chest while you listen to the rustling and heavy breaths. Next to you Leo whines softly, leaning against you and you reach to absently pet him.

"Y/n."

"I'm here," you sniffle.

"Are you—"

"I'm sorry."

He's panting, and you hear his shaky breath. "Are you ok?"

No. "Y-yeah."

"Why?" he whispers. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was all so sudden, Lando." A flimsy excuse. You could have easily texted him that night.

"I had to find out from fucking Instagram. Half the world knew before I did." There's a thud, and you wonder if he's punched the wall or slammed his head against it.

"I'm sorry," you say again because it's all you can say. "I was in shock, I guess. He posted the picture before I even called my mom."

"Are you happy?" he asks after a moment, just as you're beginning to think he's not going to say anything else.

You don't answer right away. "I—"

"I love you. Never thought I could love like I love you. Thought I loved but it was just…bullshit before you. It was fucked up and you were never mine, but I needed you. I've never not needed you. I still can't fold a fucking shirt proper. Y-you were everything and I know I was stupid to think we could make it, but I never wanted anything more than us." He's rambling, breathless, and you can hear the pain and desperation in his voice.

You press your face to your knees, shoulders shaking. "Lan—"

"But it's not gonna happen is it?" he asks and his voice breaks, shattering your heart. "You're gonna marry him. And I'm… I'm gonna have to smile and be happy for you even though I'm nothing."

"You're my friend," you sob.

"Friend." It sounds like the vilest curse word. "Friend? Tell me one friend who knows how your pussy tastes."

"Lando, please." You know you deserve it, but it hurts.

"I let you into my soul," he murmurs. "I'm supposed to just be your friend again?"

You can't answer him, because you know you can't ask that of him.

"I can't, y/n." There's a tremor in his voice and the shattered pieces of your heart crack. "I can't go back. I… I can't pretend we never happened and go back to just game talk and dancing and baking. I… I only want you to be happy, but I can't do that."

"I know," you whimper.

"You were everything," he whispers. "You still are."

"I loved us," you say softly.

"I needed us. But us…was always doomed wasn't it?"

"I suppose so." Sniffling, you lift your head, shakily tapping to ignore Charles's incoming call.

"Are you happy?"

Despite everything, you can't lie to him. You can lie to Charles. Your mom. Even your grandmother, whose said time and time again she doesn't like Charles. But you'll never be able to lie to Lando. "No."

There's silence, then he lets out a pained sound. "Don't marry him, y/n."

Charles doesn't notice your mood when he gets home. He's riding high off another win, talking excitedly about planned improvements for next year and how he's actually got the chance to be champion this year. He's so goddamned happy you can't help but smile a little, knowing all too well how downtrodden he's been over his career in the past. There's relaxation to be had now, though, and his first day of break is spent on his yacht, sunning and swimming and he's still so happy.

The next day you fly home, and despite the jet lag you're bouncing because it's so good to be back home. Charles has been here twice now but still you point out landmarks from your childhood and you can tell he's faking his enthusiasm. He loves America, he's always said because it created you, but you know he doesn't like it. He can take it in small doses. You push away the worry that by the end of your trip he'll be tense and irritable.

There are days at the beach, three nights up in the mountains, the weekend in Vegas. With each day that passes you tell yourself you can do this. You still hurt. You still miss Lando, who hasn't texted or called since the night of Spa. But it gets a little easier, and as you sit in your hotel room watching the sunrise over the Strip you realize you almost feel happy.

Charles's phone dings and you step away from the window to switch it to silent. He groans in his sleep and you smile, watching him push his face deeper into the pillow. Glancing at the phone screen, you shrug.

You don't recognize the name. You can't remember ever meeting a Cassidy or Charles mentioning her. Pushing away the doubt, you switch the phone to silent, about to set it on the nightstand when it buzzes with another message from her.

It might be someone from Ferrari. You chew on your lip, finally unlocking the phone and opening the message thread.

-miss u 💞

You barely see the text, your eyes instead on the nude photo that was sent just before. You don't know her. Scrolling up, you exhale harshly as your eyes scan the back-and-forth messages, ranging from a simple miss u to it's not fair chérie, I wish we could run away together. Interspersed are photos of her and him, and you grip the phone tighter, remembering his insistence that neither of you send nudes.

Yet he's apparently had no problem sending Cassidy pictures of his dick. Or receiving pictures of her. There are even videos and you can't stop yourself from dropping onto the couch, scrolling further up, needing to know how long it had been going on.

-marrying her won't change a thing, chérie

By the time he wakes you've gotten to the start of their messages. All the way back in November. It had been mostly innocent at first, but you'd been revolted to see photos of him in your mom's house, in your old bedroom, at Christmas, when he hadn't so much as wanted to kiss you with tongue because it was rude.

"Bonjour, chérie," he greets you as he stretches.

You say nothing, twisting the heavy, gaudy ring around your finger. His phone lies in your lap and you know he's looking for it when he looks to the nightstand.

"We go to the Big Bear today, yes?"

You stay silent, swallowing hard. You know you have no right to be angry – after all, hadn't you done the same with Lando? But you are. Because you and Lando had evolved from friends to lovers, and it hadn't lasted eight months. And you'd cut everything off with him the moment the ring had been placed on your finger.

"Chérie?" He looks confused. "What is wrong?"

"Oh, you were talking to me?" you ask.

He blinks, rubbing his face. "Yes? Who else would I be talking to? We're alone."

"Right." You draw in a deep breath and pick up his phone, tossing it towards him. "I thought maybe you were talking to Cassidy."

Despite his quick reflexes he fumbles, the phone landing on the floor with a thud. You can see the blood drain from his face. "Chérie—"

"Don't call me that," you gasp. "Not when you called her that. Last night, remember?"

"She doesn't mean anything to me," he says, snatching his phone off the floor. "It is just a fling."

"A fling doesn't last eight months, Charles." You stand up, tucking your robe tightly around yourself. "A fling isn't a chérie."

"Ché – y/n—"

"You sent her a video of you masturbating from my grandma's bathroom!" you screech, jerking away when he reaches for you. "What next? Gonna invite her to the wedding? I'm sure the priest won't mind you bending her – what was it? – perfect ass over and fucking her until she can't remember her own name. God, you're disgusting."

"I have a problem," he says, and you can hear the edge in his voice. It's just like the last time, when he—

"How many girls are you fucking?" you gasp.

"I'm not…" He hangs his head, muttering under his breath. "They don't mean anything."

"That doesn't make it better," you groan. Snatching clothes from the open suitcase on the floor, you hurriedly put them on. "You said last time that it was a mistake. That it would never happen again."

Charles raises his head. "I lied."

You blink at him. "Oh my god."

"No, chérie, don't leave."

"I believed you. I fell for ever fucking lie." You shake your head in disbelief, grabbing up your phone and purse.

"Please, please, let me explain." He takes a step towards you, stopping when you shoot him a glare.

"No." You squeeze your eyes shut.

Don't marry him, y/n.

"I can't believe I trusted you. I gave up everything for you. Because I thought you were true. I thought that the last time was the only time. I thought… I thought you loved me," you whisper, twisting the ring again.

"I do. More than anything."

"But you can't. You can't love me more than anything and tell Cassidy that marrying me won't change anything. You can't stand here and say you love me while some woman I don't know has pictures of your dick."

"Please, I can… I can change—"

You let out a harsh laugh. "Do you know what I gave up for you? I left a job I loved to work in fucking Monaco because you needed me with you. I had to let friendships I've had since high school fade because I'm so far away I can't keep in touch all the time. I—" You choke on a sob.

I've never not needed you.

"I gave up someone that truly loved me, that made me happier than I deserved. Because I wanted us to make it," you whisper. You see the confusion on his face.

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter. H-he won't have anything to do with me now, because I chose you." Tears blur your vision and you wrench the ring from your finger. You want to throw it in his face, tell him it was Lando, let out your anger by telling him what you'd done. But you can't do that to Lando. With care you set the ring on the dresser.

"Chérie… Please, not like this," he says.

It hits you that he's probably not upset over you leaving. He's upset because he always does the leaving. "I'll go to the apartment and get my stuff while you're at Zandvoort," you say. "I'll leave my keys."

"Where will you go?"

"Don't pretend to care now."

"I wanted us to make it too," he says softly. And you almost believe him.

"Apparently not enough," you murmur.

His phone vibrates again and he huffs. "Yeah hang on, getting texts," he says, pushing his headset back and reaching for the phone.

Even though he deleted the contact he recognizes the number. Opening the message, he glances at the screen, watching Max cycle through the available cars. Swallowing his worry, he looks at the phone.

-I'm leaving Monaco. -I ended the engagement and broke up with him. -I just wanted to let you know. I don't expect anything. -I still miss us. -Good luck, Lando. Take care.

He reads them over again, ignoring Max and the game. His chest aches and he lets out his breath in a rush. About to reply, he pauses, seeing a text from Oscar.

­-Still coming to Melbourne for a few days?

He smiles, quickly tapping out a reply.

-Flight leaves tonight 2am my time. Can't wait.

Going back, he stares at the number. Then, pushing down the familiar ache, he swipes to delete it, watching it disappear. There's a sense of finality to it and he tosses his phone down and rubs his hands over his face. He pulls his headset back into place.

"You good?" Max asks.

"Yeah, just junk." He stretches his arms above his head then drums his hands on the desk. "Right, let's fucking do this."

[pinkgelatin]

Being dads is exhausting. And how do you deal with exhaustion? Cuddles! This time with a tiny fic under the cut ❤️

Teething

Salim got up from the carpet and dusted off his knees. How in the world did the remote end up under the tv stand, he'd never understand, but that was indeed where he found it. The vcr whirred as it rewinded the tape. He hoped he'd find the moment they stopped watching the movie last night, rudely interrupted by a shrill cry and loud wailing. The doctor warned him that teething could have many symptoms, but Salim quietly wished that constant crying and sleepless nights wouldn't be as bad as they were when the first tooth poked out. If only he knew how wrong he'd be.

This night was Jason's turn to attend to Zain when he simply refused to fall back asleep. Salim felt for their baby boy, he really did, and both of them tried anything they could to ease Zain's pain and discomfort, but with few things available, and even fewer of them working, they had only one way of dealing with a teething baby. Patience.

Unfortunately said patience has been wearing thin over the last couple days. So much so, both Salim and Jason have become snappy and irritated. Last night Jason proposed watching a dumb movie to "debrain" themselves, which Salim eagerly agreed to. Not that they succeeded. After they dealt with their little interruption, Salim ended up nodding off on one end of the couch, and woke up in the morning to Jason curled up and lightly snoring on the other.

There was hope however. While half an hour ago Zain had been crying his little heart out yet again, at this point things seemed pretty calm. The only sound Salim could hear was Jason quietly singing a lullaby. 

Salim smiled to himself as he moved a couple of Zain's toys out of the way, then stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes for a moment, focusing more on the lullaby. Who knew Jason of all people would have a great singing voice and an array of lullabies stashed somewhere in his brain. And that Zain would react so well to them. Their boy wasn't the only one who did so either. Salim loved Jason's voice just as much, and hearing it off in the distance with a soft pillow under his head was enough to lull him into a trance. 

"Their boy," Salim's mind honed in on that particular phrase. Zain was their boy now, not just his anymore, and that made his heart swell with love and affection for the man in the other room. Jason accepted Zain as his own pretty much immediately, surprising himself most of all. He was a blessing in many more ways than one, and Salim would never be able to give enough thanks to whatever power had brought them together, be it pure chance, or something more mystical. 

He snapped back to reality when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You didn't just fall asleep on me, did you?" Jason teased, but the bags under his eyes told Salim just how much he'd like to do the same. Zain wasn't the only thing keeping them up at night. The nightmares were still vivid and frequent as well, even weeks after that awful day, and both of them had a feeling they wouldn't let up anytime soon.

"Almost," Salim stretched slightly and sighed. "Mission successful, I take it?"

Jason chuckled and gave him a mock salute, "The tiny wailing beast has been pacified with a lullaby and lots of cuddles. And that new teething gel the doc gave us. Now scooch."  

Salim felt a knee nudge his side, but didn't move a muscle. He was way too comfortable for that. Though moving could have saved his stomach and slowly scarring chest from being crushed by the full weight of an ex-Marine.

Even if Jason seemed to purposefully avoid his wound, Salim still gasped and groaned in surprise, "That hurt, habibi."

Jason simply shrugged and sneaked his arms around Salim's torso, "Should've moved."

Salim grumbled some more, but reached for the blanket anyway, and soon they were both snug and cozy. "I rewinded the tape already. I think I got the right spot."

"With how early you conked out we might as well watch the whole thing," Jason took the remote from Salim's hand and pressed the button to rewind the tape fully, ignoring any protests. 

With the most exaggerated eye roll he could manage Salim pushed himself deeper into the pillow and set his mind on focusing on the movie this time. As long as there would be no interruptions that is. He instinctively kept listening for any distressed sounds coming from Zain's room, but after hearing none he let himself relax. 

It was about halfway through the movie when he proudly announced, "See? I told you I'd watch it this time." Only he didn't get any kind of response. 

Salim craned his neck to glance at Jason's face and let out a low chuckle. 

With eyes closed, and mouth slack Jason was asleep on top of him. Probably has been for a while as well, judging by the crease on his cheek and one arm hanging loose off the side of the couch.

Salim paused the movie. The house was quiet, save for Jason's even breathing and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. Zain seemed to still be asleep, and the neighborhood cocooned them in quiet darkness, making the night perfect for catching up on some much needed rest.

"Oh well," Salim thought, and let his own eyes slip shut. "Take the little blessings as they come." They could try again tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that. They had all the time in the world.

[jadewritesficshere]

Sleep

Eddie Munson x reader

You fall asleep at Eddie's, but he doesn't mind.

Contents: just pure fluff, pet name that refers to reader (Baby)

Eddie smiled softly at you from the doorway. You were huddled under a quilt, head at an awkward angle against the back of the couch. You mouth was hanging open and light snores could be heard coming from you. You had fallen asleep sometime after the movie had started. As soon as it had ended, Eddie had ran to the bathroom not even noticing you were asleep.

But he noticed now. Eddie could stand here and watch you forever, but he didn't want to be caught staring if you woke up. He didn't want you to feel self conscious like you typically did if he stared too long.

Eddie slowly creeps over to the couch. He doesn't want to wake you, but he doesn't want you to be in pain. Especially not when there's a perfectly nice bed in his bedroom.

"Baby?" He gently asks, hand lightly coming to your shoulder to shake you awake. You awake with a start, jumping up and looking around with wide eyes. A bit of drool has dried on the corner of your mouth.

And Eddie thought you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He uses his thumb to wipe away the drool, smiling at you.

You blink a few times as you awaken. "Shit... I missed the movie," you mumble rubbing your eye. Eddie chuckles," Good thing we can rewind the tape." You yawn and nod.

Eddie stands and holds his hand out to you," C'mon." You grab his hand and Eddie yanks you up, causing you to stumble into him. Eddie wraps his arms around you, holding you close. He shuffles the two of you forward, slowly inching towards the bedroom, but never once letting go.

Your head lays on his shoulder, practically falling asleep standing up. You can hear his steady heart beat. Your arms slowly lower, hands falling from his shoulders down to his behind. You can't stop yourself from squeezing it slightly, causing Eddie to giggle. Normally, he would make some quick remarks that would cause you to laugh, but tonight he didn't.

Tonight he was quiet. Calm. Yes, he could be loud and the life of the party. But Eddie also could be calm and steady, leading without taking credit.

Eddie pulled back the covers to the bed and helps you get in. He jokingly threw the blankets up over your head before pulling them down and tucking them appropriately under your chin. Eddie pauses in thought before kissing your forehead," Sweet dreams."

Eddie turns to leave but your hand grasps his wrist. He looks back at you curiously. "Stay?" You lightly tug his wrist towards you. A moment of silence runs between you, causing you to let go of his wrist awkwardly. But Eddie doesn't notice. Eddie simply clambors up onto the bed and lays next to you. He lays on his side facing away from you, grabbing your arm and wrapping it around him. "If you wanted to hold me, you only had to ask."

And as sleep takes hold, you can feel him kiss your hand he has clasped in his. He sighs and snuggles back into your hold. "I love you," He whispers quietly in the night, not expecting you to be awake enough to hear. He simply said it because it was true, because even if no one else was around to hear, he would feel the same. He loved you and simply couldn't keep it to himself.

[kamisama1kiss]

First off LOVE THE PAGE AND THE WRITING and as a fellow reader I’d like to request maybe possibly a Lloyd Dating headcanons? Pretty pleasssssssssse with a cherry on top 🫶🏻🥺

AHHH Thank youuu!! 😭😭 this is so cuteee. I am giggling to myself writing these headcanons!! Suprised, I hadn't thought of this yet!! Might even have gotten a bit overboard with writing for him🤭🤭

(!Gender neutral!)

~~~

Lloyd Garmadon Headcanons { Dating The Green Ninja }

- As in start, he would make sure NO ONE knew you were together when he was the green ninja since he was scared for you to get hurt in any way (expect the other ninjas)

- But when outside of being the green Ninja and in public, he didn't mind having small affection of PDA as in hand holding, cheek kisses, and ect

- It was definitely a rookie start with his past feelings going horribly, which meant he would need a handful of reassurance, understanding, and patient

- His favourite pass time is reading comics with you in his arms, reading with him. Leaning your head on his shoulder would definitely make him a bit shy no matter how many times you've done it

- Couple goals since day one!

- Everybody knew about his crush for you before he even knew it himself. He had refused for a little while, Kai eventually pushed him enough to ask you out

- He is 100% a communication kind of guy, even with the smallest subjects. All he wants to make sure of is that fact that you and him can rest easy without worrying about anything.

- The kind of guy who would admire you when doing absolutely anything, as simple as reading, his gaze filled with nothing but admiration for you

- If you cought him looking, the tips of his ears would turn bright pink. Looking away and acting as if he didn't just admire you for like 20 minutes

- Expect in private back hugs, surprise kisses, long comforting hugs, and cuddles for days, but you'd only achieve this after a few months since in the start he was scared to even hold your hand

- Checks up on you to make sure you eat and take care of yourself, but make sure to do the same. This poor guy forgets himself all the time, and the burden of being the green ninja weights on his shoulders

- Date nights wouldn't be regularly since his duty, but he always tried his best to at least do it on your anniversary every month. If not that day, then the day before or after

- Knowing if you were upset, broke his heart completely, would do anything in his power to make you smile and feel better.. maybe even a small snack that he knows you enjoy.

- Stargazing is a must!! It's a way to rewind and hangout, the world is finally quiet. He feels as if he can breathe and just enjoy his time with you, no worries in the back of his mind when holding you under the stary nights

- Would get teased by the others the both of you all the time, but nonetheless, they were happy he found someone who wasn't a evil person in disguise

- You'd join their family nights at one point. He'd silently be thankful over the fact you all get along and took you over many more get togethers

- At some point, being introduced to Misako was nervracking for the both of you. It went very well since she was very open and talked to you the whole time, over all after you left, she told him to bring you over for dinner next week.

- You'd bandage him up after fighting the bad guy this time around. He knew you were reliable if he ever did need help, but he felt guilty every time after you did help.

"You don't have to help me every time if you dont want to.. you do know that?"

"I want to help you, I care about you."

"..I appreciate it. Thank you, love.."

- Golden retriever boyfriend!!

- Playing with his hair is a must, it's very soft and well taken care of since he dose not use those 3 in 1 kind of bottles.

- His favourite kinds of dates would be being alone with you, most likely taking you away from everything and everyone. Picnic dates are 100% the onse you go on the most.

-Finding it easier to sleep with you in his arms at night, having not experienced it before he felt pride but also a sort of comfort to know you'd be there when he wakes up.

-Meeting Garmadon would be just a tiny bit different. Dont get me wrong he is happy for Lloyd but he's definitely a bit more difficult to get liked by, just know he'd eventually grow a soft spot for you (This is when he isn't like killingly evil, yk)

- Overall being with Lloyd as in Dating will be a adventuris and a exciting experience! The most green flag in a man you could ever meet

[regularconvexheadcanons]

During Double Life, Cub knew there was something wrong. Someone was there, someone was tied to them and he could do nothing about it, Scar had vanished again and someone was trying to use him. It wasn't the Vex who did this, they'd go into a rage every time Scar was taken, one of their most valued servants. This was not the work of his own kind, it was something else trying to rewind Scar's nature and chain it to one of theirs. Grian was hungry. Hungrier than he'd ever been before, and nothing was helping. Scar said it wasn't too bad, it got like this every time, it wasn't too bad. it'd be worse next week, and then the week after, until he wished he felt the like he did now. Until the red haze set over and they could feast. If he listened closely, he could hear the screaming. Thousands of voices spewing hatred at the bond and their captors. And amongst that, a single familiar whisper from beyond the veil.

Ohhh yea double life angst, we love it

1: Cub could definitely feel some sense of Grian being bound to Scar. And probably also a bit of that Watcher stuff. The idea of the Watchers trying to diminish Scar's vex power so they could safety soulbound him to Grian without the vex/watcher magic is very cool. And Cub feeling that, knowing something's wrong, knowing the vex are angrier than usual for the start of a Life Series.

I can see Cub confronting Grian after week 2 or 3 when he's absolutely 100% certain that something is up with Scar's magic and Grian needs to stop it.

And Grian probably snaps back at Cub about the Vex. Because while Scar's losing vex magic, Grian's gaining some with the soulbinding. Because Scar's soul IS a vex soul, shared with Cub, and that's what turned him into a vexling. And Grian doesn't like feeling a growing urge to be chaotic or, or the vague sense of whether the vex are happy or, most of the series, furious at him.

After the life series, the double life bonds didn't disappear completely. Some pairs still felt a pull to be with each other (Ranchers, Boat boys), some still felt the vague echoes of eachother's pain.

And Grian and Scar kept some little bit of that corruption from each other's magic. The Watchers were aware of Scar, even more than before, as a threat, eventually leading to him being trapped after Secret Life. Grian still felt that pull towards the vex, including a woodland mansion in Limited Life and living in it, and the choice of a giant, glowing white smile on quiz-bot's face.

Even Cub still kept soulbound to Grian a little. Grian messing around with the sculk led to its interest in Cub as a target, choosing him as the one Shubble sent into the Evermore where he got possessed.

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

Laughter

Summary:Your sweet looks hid your insanity, which Sukuna took advantage of.

Type:Scenario:Horror(?):Sukuna X M!Reader

Version:Jjk

⚠️Warning! Heavy gore!⚠️

~

The sorcerer Sukuna brought back stared down at him, looking a little confused that Sukuna had 'left'. You looked so sweet, so...nice? The sorcerer laughed, gently poking your face.

"Whose this cutie?" The sorcerer mocked, leaning down to your size with a smirk. "Whats a beautiful man like you in a place like this?"

The flirting from the sorcerer wasn't ideal, but it only made you snicker as his head suddenly hit the ground. Time seemed to freeze- rewinding in a few seconds, with the sweetest look on your face you grabbed the sorcerers hand as he stared down at you bewildered.

"Would you like a tour of the temple before meeting Lord Sukuna?" The sweet look on your face was suddenly unsettling, almost like you were a curse yourself. "It's much more fun than what I had in mind"

The sorcerer was to stunned to be able to say no. Letting you drag you around the temple. The other servants moves out of your way, an unhappy look on all their faces. For some it was anger, or disgust, and some horrified. It made the sorcerer sweat. Who exactly where you? And why was such a happy man in a place like this.

The temple was alright. It wasn't goresome and filled with corpses. It was truly a temple for a king. It could almost be...beautiful if it weren't for the blood spatters and eerie silence everywhere. The blood and silence was a constant reminder of who lived here- who this temple was built for. The king of curses himself- Sukuna Ryomen. He was known throughout Japan, a thing so terrifying that he had Japan under his palm. He was blood thirsty in such a monstrous way that even Samurai would fight him. They bowed.

The sight of the kitchen had the sorcerer gagging and vomiting onto the ground, shaking as he puked out blood rather than food. The servants around didn't seem amused- but you did, the biggest smile on your face as you watched the man who had marched in here with a army break down by the sight of a kitchen.

"What? Not hungry?" Your sickening laugh made the sorcerer shiver. "Come on, he's waiting"

The sorcerer looked up at you, horrified. He'd rather he dead than face that man again. You didn't give him an option, dragging the man up and towards the throne room. The man tried to resist against your hold, but a few servants shoved him forward, making it impossible for him not to get dragged by you. His bare feet tried to dig into the concrete, tear the flesh on his feet off, his feet burned, but he didn't stop, there was no way he was willingly going to Sukunas throne room. Suddenly, you turned to him with a blank look- it happened so fast he didn't understand how he was suddenly in the throne room, staring at you as you happily jogged up the stairs to Sukuna. What happened? The sorcerer looked around, his eyes widening as he saw about twenty of his men behind him, all staring down at him with a horrified look. When he looked back, he practically choked. You had sat on his armrest, hugging Sukunas head with one of his arms around your waist. The sorcerer was to scared to speak, reaching up to feel his neck and face. Something was wrong, it felt wrong. He gulped, glaring at you again.

"Y-You...wha-" He didn't finish his sentence. Blood fell to the floor, as well as half of both his arms and his upper torso.

Yet as soon as it happened he was back, gasping loudly he choked as he coughed, grasping his chest as he desperately felt his body- not understanding how he was alive.

"I didn't say you could speak." Sukunas voice boomed throughout the room, making everyone but you and Uraume freeze.

The sorcerer trembled, putting his hands on the ground. The blood showed he wasn't crazy. He should be dead. Why was he alive. A giggle made him look up, you. You were just sitting there, giggling at his misery as you played with Sukunas hair.

"At least let him speak his mind. I'm curious about what he thinks" Your smile was more unsettling than your voice, you looked so sweet- how where you able to just sit there?!

Sukuna was clearly thinking about it, his four eyes all locked on the sorcerer. Sukuna pointed at the sorcerer, making him tense and look down in a bow.

"Speak." The sorcerer looked up at Sukuna stunned. Clearly shocked he listened to you. "Now."

The sorcerer sat up, having so many thoughts running through his head, so many questions that all led back to you. His eyes landed back on you, he wished you gave him some sympathy, Sukuna would clearly listen to you. But sympathy didn't get you there, it was foolish to think you'd have any left in you.

"H-How..." That's it. How was all his questions in one word. How is he alive, how are you sitting so close, how are you alive, how this how that.

An amused look grew on Sukunas face, he leaned, a smirk growing on his face.

"Would you like to see how?" Sukuna had no good intentions, the sorcerer should've said no, but be couldn't find it in him to say no to Sukuna.

Sukunas smirk grew wider, looking at you, using his arm to nudge you off the armrest.

"Show him. Answer his question. " The sorcerer froze as he watched you walk towards him.

His eyes watched you grab a club that was near by- probably placed there on purpose. He tried to move away, but he couldn't. To frozen in fear to move away. Only when the club was coming down did he realize. His legs didn't move fast enough.

The sickening crack of bone filled the room, the wooden club in your hand coming down faster as he dropped to the ground. The servants stopped back, quickly rushing to get you more tools to torture this man with. The sorcerers screams echoed throughout the temple, being empathized by the tall walls. His head throbbed and bleed heavily, his hands shooting up to try and stop you- yet he couldn't get a grip. The club was pulled away to quickly for him to grasp, not that Sukuna would let him keep a hold on it anyways.

The club beat through his hands, crushing his fingers, and his palm down into his forearm until his arms dropped out of pain, giving you access to his face. The crushing of his nose made the other sorcerers flinch, the sight was so sickening some had to look away- and the others couldn't. Your knuckles turned white, beating his head to mush before finally stepping away when your arms arched.

With a deep breath you closed your eyes for a moment time froze again, the surrounding becoming so dense it was hard to breath. The sorcerers eyes suddenly opened, a sickening gasp coming from him as his hands shoot up. He looked at your bloodied form, a sob coming from him as he started to crawl away. You giggled and dropped the club, deciding to ruin his day even more.

With a knife now in your hand, you walked over to him, grasping his hair and tugging it back, pulling his until his neck started to strain and bend in away a neck should never bend. The knife came down quickly, repeated stabbing the bend in his neck. The squirting blood everywhere made you laugh loudly, stabbing the knife down even faster as he choked on his own blood. You threw his corpse onto the ground before bringing him back.

When he came back, the sorcerer finally realized what was happening. Your curse technique lets you bring people back from the dead - or a time based on where you could go back in time and bring him back so he'd remember everything he felt beforehand.

The sorcerer sobbed as you walked over to him again. Crawling away from you as fast as he could.

"Enough. Come here" Sukuna called you back to him, which you followed without a second thought.

Your bloodied form jogged back up the stairs, plopping right back onto the arm rest to hug his head once more. Sukuna seemed please to see you covered in blood, eyeing your soiled clothes with a small smirk before looking back at the sorcerer. A smirk growing on his face, before Sukuna could speak the man yelled at him.

"Y-You.. you both are monsters! I-I hope you all get dragged down to hell!" The man started to run, using what little engery he had to dash.

Your laughter scared man more than anything, running faster. Sukuna let him hope, watching him run until he was almost to the door and killed him without even getting up.

"Pathetic..." Sukuna bumped his head against your chest as he tilted it.

The other sorcerers gulped, knowing they were next. Luckily, Sukuna was too annoyed to mess with them. With a flick if his wrist the rest of the sorcerers were killed, making you huff annoyed.

"I was enjoying that..." Sukuna chuckled, lifting you onto his shoulder as he stood up. He walked down the stairs, holding you tightly.

"Your disgusting...letting that man touch you..." Your giggles filled the room as Sukuna walked away.

~

[A/n:would you guys believe me if I said I was listening to threater kid music while writing this? I hope you enjoyed]

[steddieas-shegoes]

read my lips

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is staring at his lips when he talks'

rated m | 1,799 words | cw: suggestive language, implied sexual content | tags: mutual pining, getting together, first kiss, platonic stobin

👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄

"Steve? Earth to Steve." Robin waved her hand in front of his face, successfully pulling him out of the daydream he'd been in for who knows how long. "He walked away nearly two minutes ago. You gotta get your shit together, man."

Steve looked around, trying to find where Eddie went. He'd been talking to them both about a show his band was invited to perform in a few towns over in a couple weeks. Steve was listening to him go on about trying to buy a set of special edition picks at the record shop they'd be performing in when he got distracted by the way Eddie's lips kept smirking around his words.

The scarring along his cheek made his smile more crooked than it was before the bats, and Steve couldn't stop staring.

Not for the reasons strangers on the street would, not even in the way that Dustin or Wayne sometimes looked at him, like they were still upset at the way the world turned against Eddie.

No, this was entirely because every time Steve started to watch Eddie talk, he got distracted thinking about those lips on his. This time it was way less work appropriate.

He turned to Robin and groaned.

"God, this is bad."

"You don't say." Robin set a stack of tapes on the counter next to Steve. "All these still need to be checked in. Then you can go get distracted by thoughts of Eddie's lips on your neck or whatever."

"If only it had been my neck," Steve mumbled as Robin started humming loud enough to drown him out.

"Stevie, you work too hard," Eddie's voice said from right behind him only a minute later. "You should take a break."

"I just had my lunch 30 minutes ago. I can't take another break," Steve refused to make eye contact, refused to get captured by that sinful smile.

Eddie's hand landed on his shoulder. "Aren't you the one in charge right now?"

"You think I'm over Robin?"

"I think you think you're over Robin. And that should be enough. Just sneak away. She won't even notice. Look, she's yelling at a kid in the corner," Eddie poked him to get him to turn around and look. "Poor kid probably didn't think anyone who worked here cared if he snuck into the R section."

Steve finally turned around and let out a snort. "That's the third time that kid's tried to get back there in a week. He's just an idiot."

"Well...she's distracted. There's no other customers. Take a break!" Eddie was grinning at him and Steve was already under his spell.

"Fine, but only a few minutes. She'll be pissed if I leave her to do all the rewinding and shelving," Steve agreed because he had to.

Because Eddie was looking at him like he was up to something and he wanted Steve to be up to something with him. Because he'd do anything that made Eddie's crooked smile bigger, anything to hear him let out that giggle he tried to hide when he was being mischievous.

Eddie tugged on his arm and pulled him out from behind the counter, holding a finger to his lips to shush him when he started to tell him to stop.

He led him to the back office, which was usually locked if Keith wasn't in, but had been left unlocked the last two shifts because Robin was in charge of closing out the registers.

"I know for a fact you shouldn't be in here. I'm barely even allowed in here," Steve whispered.

"No one will know," Eddie said as he sat on the edge of the cluttered desk. "It's not like Family Video is stashing away government secrets."

"I said the same thing about Scoops Ahoy and then got tortured by Russians, so I'd watch what you say."

Eddie's smile dropped for a moment.

Steve had never gone into details and Robin had just shrugged it off when Eddie asked her about it. She said she was grateful she had Steve through it all and that was that.

"Do you suspect Russians might be hiding under Family Video?" Eddie eventually asked. "If so, I think we should head out. I'll get our coats."

Steve shook his head. "Nah. Think the Russians got the hell out of Hawkins after Starcourt."

"Good. Wouldn't wanna have to deal with Russian torture trauma on top of all the bats and being stuck in the Upside Down for days trauma," Eddie snorted. "So, what're you doin' after work today?"

"Uh." Steve admittedly didn't hear most of what Eddie said. He was too busy watching his lips form around words. "Hm?"

Eddie's smile fell. "I asked what you're doing after work. Are you okay? You seem kinda out of it today."

"Yep, I'm fine. Might just be getting a migraine or something." Steve looked down at the floor to try to concentrate. "I'm probably just gonna heat up some leftovers from movie night last night and shower and go to bed."

"You want company?" Eddie asked.

Steve felt his heart stop. "In the shower?"

He looked up at Eddie, that perfect smile growing on his face.

"I meant for dinner or just to hang out, but if you need help in the shower, I could probably arrange that," Eddie was teasing. He was kidding. He had to be. Right?

“I’m…I don’t-“

“Don’t hurt yourself, Stevie,” Eddie laughed. “Offer’s there if you want it.”

Steve was too busy staring at Eddie’s tongue licking his bottom lip, imagining that tongue licking along his bottom lip.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie whispered.

“Hm?”

“You know, I started wearing chapstick and waited for you to finally give in.” Eddie’s lip quirked up. “But you haven’t done anything except stare. You gonna do something?”

“Do what?” Steve was clueless as to what he was talking about.

“You gonna see if they taste as good as they look?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Kiss me, Harrington. You gonna do it or not?” Eddie sighed.

“I-“

“It’s alright. Been waiting for weeks now. You wanna?” Eddie didn’t move from the desk. “Not sure they’re gonna be as great as you seem to be picturing every time I talk, but hopefully they aren’t a complete disappointment.”

Steve kinda figured he should go ahead and kiss him before he started to get lost in his own world again.

He stepped up to Eddie, watching as his face shifted from amused to anticipatory. Steve’s hand rested on Eddie’s knee, mostly to help keep his balance.

He was feeling a little lightheaded with the recent development.

“You really want me to kiss you?” Steve asked as he leaned in, resting his forehead against Eddie’s.

“Yeah, I really do.”

Steve watched his lips the entire time, enamored with the way every part of his mouth enunciated every word. Everything felt important when Eddie said it.

He tasted and felt better than he looked, especially when his hands came up to cup the sides of Steve’s neck, fingers scratching at the roots of his long hair.

Steve whined into his mouth, sinking against him as Eddie took control and deepened the kiss.

“You’re both lucky I’m willing to pretend that I’m not seeing what I’m seeing and that I’m willing to close this door and leave you alone for ten minutes. Mostly because I was so tired of Steve losing every remaining brain cell anytime Eddie talked.” Robin’s voice filtered through the small office, causing Steve and Eddie to pull apart quickly, both wiping at their mouths. “Ten minutes. Not a second more. Pants stay on. Got it?”

“Got it,” Eddie agreed.

“And hands stay out of pants!” Robin said as she closed the door.

“Dammit,” Eddie sighed.

“Ten minutes is long enough to make out,” Steve tried to suggest, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Ten minutes is long enough for a lot of things. Tell me where you want my lips.”

It would be rude teasing from anyone else, but from Eddie, it just made Steve feel seen.

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Wherever you want them,” Steve gasped out, still feeling like he might be dreaming.

“So you’d be okay with them…here?” Eddie whispered against his neck, soft presses of his lips against his skin. “Or here?” Steve’s shirt was pulled to the side for Eddie to suck a bruise into the crook of his neck. “Or maybe here?” Eddie’s hand pressed against his half-hard cock on his jeans. “Oh, sweetheart. Had no idea you’d be so ready for me.”

“Yes, you did,” Steve argued.

“You’re right. But it’s still nice to see and feel. Maybe I could taste?” Eddie asked as his hand wandered along his waist line.

“N-now?” Steve stuttered out.

“I have-“ Eddie checked his watch. “About eight minutes. I could get you off.”

“With your mouth?”

“Well, yeah. We can’t make a mess, can we? This is your place of employment, Stevie. And it’s a bitch getting cum out of a carpet like this.”

“You know from experience?”

Eddie dropped to his knees. "I made an educated guess. So. Mouth. Yes or no?"

"Yes," Steve replied, unbuttoning his own pants. "Jesus, yes."

Eddie's mouth was even better than Steve's imagination gave him credit for. They only need three of the minutes they had for Steve to finish, and another two minutes of Steve's hand working Eddie over for him to finish, too.

"You could've said something sooner," Eddie said as he tried to fix his hair. "Or just kissed me one of those times you were trying to stare through my lips."

"I didn't think I was being that obvious before today," Steve said as he tucked his shirt back into his pants and slid his vest back on.

"Sweetheart, you've been obvious since day one. I've just been waiting for you to realize that you needed to make a move," Eddie crowded him against the desk, hands on his hips and a playful smile on his face.

Steve watched his lips the entire time.

"Like that," Eddie continued, raising a finger to trace along Steve's lips. "You watch them when you don't even realize you are."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, Stevie. Love it," Eddie kissed the corner of his mouth before stepping back. "You better get back before Robin comes in here and glares at us until we catch on fire or something."

"You comin' over after I get off?"

"You just got off," Eddie joked. "But yes. As long as I can actually help you in the shower."

"Help me? Or distract me?"

"It can be both!" Eddie opened the door and held it for Steve to go through. "I'll take care of you."

Steve smiled to himself as he walked away. "I'm sure you will."