#i am normal about this movie (lies)
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moeblob · 4 months ago
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Haley ! Dressed up as Dorothea (post skip) from FE3H!
In case anyone wants to know, the lineart took me as long as Clue (1985) with all three endings. Like. Just in case anyone wanted to know.
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maybemaehill · 4 months ago
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Happy birthday Tom Cruise Please never stop making movies because I need to keep sexualising you and also because the movies are very good and make me cry sometimes. Yes I’m looking at you TG:M. Anyway thank you Mr Movies I look forward to all the ways you inevitably almost kill yourself in the future 💖 :D
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yumantimatter · 8 months ago
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well that was wild
just saw Love Lies Bleeding lads
what can I even say, I sure do support those women's wrongs
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1mnobodywhoareyou · 9 months ago
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Holy shit holy shit holy shit
We finally get a Suze trailer (and poster)!
And I finally have a Canadian advantage with media!
Idk if I actually have the ability to go to a theatre but HOLY SHIT
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bucks-babe · 11 months ago
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More Virgin Bucky
Pairing: Virgin!Bucky 
Summary: Bucky jerks off to the memory of your movie night
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: male masturbation, mention of past blowjob, Bucky is a horny boy, reader is not in this one but he thinks about them
A/N: The part two that a lot of yall wanted. Am I a tease? Yes. Bucky does not lose his v-card in this one. BUT I will write a part three I promise. I want to corrupt this man so bad. Also, I wrote this in like an hour sooo. Part of the Virgin!Bucky series but can be read alone
One week. Actually eight days and five hours, but Bucky is the only one counting. That’s how long it's been since you sucked the sense out of your boyfriend. It has taken every ounce of control Bucky has to not ask you to do it again. It’s all he thinks about ever since that night.
He would be embarrassed if you knew, but in all fairness, you did this to him. You effectively made him malfunction. Bucky has been fucking his fist practally every night, replaying the best moment of his life. How your mouth wrapped around him perfectly, the slight gagging sounds, and don’t even get him started on how you looked up at him. 
And when you told him to cum in your mouth? Fuck! His cock pulses at the memory. Bucky is a greedy man - he wants more. He wants you to suck his cock again, maybe you’ll suck on his ball this time, get them all wet and slobbery, make him cum without even touching his cock. 
For the past few days of his incessant horniness, he’s been thinking about something else, too. It always starts out with you, his throbbing cock in your mouth, but there is a shift, you on the bed with his head between your legs. He never gets very far into this fantasy before he cums all over his hand and chest. Something about eating you out has him cumming in seconds.
But Bucky can’t bring himself to ask for what he wants. He’s too embarrassed; no one in the 40’s ever talked about eating their girl’s pussy. He wasn’t completely ignorant to the fact that women’s pleasure wasn’t important to men back then, but Bucky didn’t know if what he wanted was normal, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.
As he lies in bed, once again Bucky feels his cock harden in his pants. Luckily for his pride, he’s alone in bed, and nothing is stopping his flesh hand from inching toward his crotch. His balls are so heavy and full even though he jerked himself off twice the night before, cumming so much he had to change the sheets. 
Grabbing his erection, Bucky hissed in pleasure. No matter how many times he’s touched himself this past week, he is still a sensitive baby when it comes to his cock. “Fuck, doll, touch my cock, just like that.” Bucky lets his mind wander to his go to fantasy. He imagines you between his legs, that the hand rubbing his dick is your soft palms and not his callused one.
His hips jerk off the bed, chasing friction of his hand through his boxers. “Go ahead, doll, take it out.” When you aren’t there, Bucky is in charge, making himself feel good, directing you in his fantasy. But can’t help himself but let you take charge when he’s with you. He just gets so nervous, not wanting to let you down and never experiencing pleasure so intense. 
He’s trying to take this slow, drawing his pleasure out, but, hell, you make him so damn horny that he just can’t help but push his boxers down to his thighs, past his heavy balls, and ignores the wet spot on his underwear from his weeping head.
Using his precum, Bucky wraps his hand around his head and slowly pulls his hand down to his base. “Oh, God! Just like that!” He has to squeeze his base to stop himself from cumming at the first stroke of this hand.
Scrambling, he pushes his boxers down to his ankles and spreads his legs, “doll, touch my balls, get them nice and wet.” His metal hand cups his ever growing sack, “shit, yeah that feels fucking great! You feel how heavy they are? All that cum is going down your throat tonight. You hear me, doll?” 
With his metal hand still on his balls, he uses his flesh hand on his cock, imagining your lips instead, you slobbering over his cock, not his precum lubing it. “So good with your mouth, you know that? You’re such a fucking slut.” His thumb traces over the thick vein right under the head of this cock and has Bucky calling you a slut, something he didn’t even know he’d be into, but once that image was in his head he had to take his hand off his cock; he didn’t want to cum just yet. Not when he just started.
Taking deep breaths, Bucky tries to calm himself down, but imaginary you climbs up his body and Bucky knows this is the end. “Sit on my face, doll, and let me eat your pussy.” He closes his eyes for this part, because Bucky has never seen your pussy before, he wonders if you are sporting a bush like the women in his old porn mags did, or if you shave, or wax, Bucky doesn’t give a shit. 
He’s never tasted a cunt before, and has nothing to base it on, but the thought of your entire weight on his face, smothering him with your pussy, makes the most pornographic moan leave his mouth and cum shoots out of his tip without him touching it.
He cums for what feels like minutes before he finally stops and he lays back against his pillow, not having the energy to clean himself off before he falls asleep. He needs to taste your pussy and soon. 
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fluideli123 · 3 months ago
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I've watched the DP&W movie twice in theaters and three plus times on a pirated site, and I wanted to grant my analysis on Wade and Logan's relationship that not only respects Vanessa--because Vanessa was literally Wade's Soulmate until shit hit the fan and you can pry that fact from my cold dead hands. But also explains how Logan and Wade actually represent a a-spec experience and relationship that I feel like no one has really gotten into. Am I saying they're a-spec? No. But that doesn't mean queer relationships that are fairly normal in a-spec spaces doesn't mean they don't exist outside of them as well.
First of all, the only two reasons I believe Vanessa and Wade broke up was 1) Wade went back in time to save Vanessa and he told her after his usual routine of jokes and lies and 2) Wade finally believed he could be something more, a hero, only to be turned down by the people who are known for their heroism, leaving him lost.
I genuinely believe Vanessa had a hard time taking in that knowledge, but knowing Wade and everything they've been through she would get through that like the badass she is and work through it using her plans A-Z, as she always does. But I think to really stop that woman from continuing to start a family with Wade like she wanted to in Deadpool 2, is if Wade was no longer within the right mindset to do so.
Deadpool 1 introduced Wade as someone who believed he was a bad guy who got paid to fuck up worse guys, he refused the term hero, and the moment he even tried to reach for something selfless. An act that would hopefully spare Vanessa from the pain of cancer, it all got fucked up and he got turned into a monster. Someone he deemed even lesser than he was before. So far gone and completely removed from what he was loved for (his looks and personality, but how could his personality stand alone when he looked so ugly? As ugly as he always felt on the inside?)
So he turned to what he's always known: Tracking people down and making them pay. In his mind this only confirms that he's a monster, he isn't deserving of Vanessa, of anyone. Which is why he finds comfort in Blind Al, a woman who will only have to deal with his personality and not be able to see how ugly he actually is. Symbolism for showing only half of himself and not him in his entirety (not that he can hide it from her, she's too wise, knowledgeable, caring, and knows Wade better than he knows himself at this point.)
Eventually, he finishes his hunt and is still loved despite what had transpired. Vanessa still chose him, still loved him. So maybe despite how ugly he is, he can still be loved. This grounded him, solidified his self worth, have him such stability that he had a thriving relationship with Vanessa that they were SO ready to start a family, aspired to live that dream. Another act of selfishness. Only to, once again, be met by pain. Get his dream taken away, once again resorting to what he knows: revenge.
Wade wants to be a hero? He gets forcefully mutated. Wade wants a family? Vanessa gets killed. Both are immediately solved by death, but that self-loathing and sickening hatred towards himself do nothing to cure that same confirmation he had once thought he got over: That he wasn't a monster, he could be loved, be something else.
So of course Vanessa is who, even in death, looks him in the eyes and tells him he cares, he has always cared. He cares so deeply about the people in his life he meets who unconditionally love him for him as time passes, despite all his flaws.
Wade wants to be a hero? Colossus believes he can be. Wade wants to save the 13-year-old abused kid? Vanessa knows he can. He saves lives by sacrificing himself. He scarified his comfort to show Vanessa the full truth of his ugliness, he sacrificed his life for Russel to give him a better life. Maybe he isn't a complete monster, maybe he can believe again. He can be selfish, he can be reckless. So he goes back and saves more people. Heroes do that. They save the people they love. You don't hold the whole world on your shoulders, no, like Miles learned in ATSV you think of one person of the few people you want to fight against the world to protect. And he did just that.
With Vanessa back and a big family he can finally chase after what he wasn't meant for. Because it's only happened twice, it wouldn't happen again-
Rejection. He can't be a hero because people don't need him. He is the needy one, the one who wants to be needed, needs to be wanted. So, it's the crash. The final straw. He breaks. He breaks so hard because what the fuck is the point to trying if every time he is met with failure? Rejection? Pain? Loss? He becomes so stuck in figuring this all out he neglects his relationship with Vanessa, causing issues. They go separate ways, but still so close, because you don't just lose your best friend like that, even if you're no longer partners. They're always meant to be together one way or another.
So you have this broken man who is searching for purpose, years later still harboring this tiny flicker of hope that he can be greater. He can be great. He can be a hero.
His world is in trouble, he doesn't think twice saving it. He accepts he isn't perfect for this, not like all the big guys back in Avengers headquarters, but he can't let his loved ones die because of someone he's had a vendetta against the last two movies.
He literally fights and fights and fights to find someone to help him, Wade can't save who he loves he has to find someone else you can, anyone else.
Than a broken, desperate man walks into a bar to see another broken man who has since long given up.
The thing about Logan and Wade is that they don't need words. Wade blew himself up in order to die in the second movie, Logan drinks himself away, both knowing they can't die no matter how much they want to. How much they believe they deserve it.
So Wade sees a Wolverine who has potential, who hasn't hurt him (unlike the others, he gets hurt so much, guys) and places his faith in him without hesitation. From that moment on he has never truly doubted Logan's abilities nor his heroism, because he knew his Logan and if his world was anchored by a Logan than all Logan's are built with something he isn't. They're made to be heroes, made to be important. Yeah, they fight, but I strongly believe that's how two broken men say everything words can't possibly describe.
I mean what words could describe the way they go all out on each other, knowing the other can't die, the way Wade looks up at him, not wanting to regrow his entire body because he needs to save his world and understands Logan and has to decide to say something that'll convince him to help. Wade doesn't know if stopping the machine will completely save his world or if a new Logan will patch it up too, it's his own educated wish he passes onto Logan. Because just like Russel, he cares. He understands. He wants to help.
It's that faith, hope, and resistance and face of humor despite it all that causes Logan to stick by that dumb asses side. He lost everything, he is seeing someone like himself before he stumbled home drunk from the bar to find everyone dead. Someone who is capable of doing something he wasn't able to. He wants to help, more and more for Wade and less himself, a silent journey of healing following Wades steps everywhere they stumble into.
Because Logan was just drunk at a bar before being told he was needed to save a world, told he was the worst before being offered help anyone, getting praised over his capabilities, and than told again and again how he is able to be someone he never thought he could be. Much like Wade was and is.
Logan sees it. Wade most likely ignores it, much like anything else. He isn't very open with anyone other than Vanessa as we've learned.
So just- of course Wolverine is the honest one, of course he hits low, he sees himself and Wade and wants to hurt him. Wade wants to hurt him back, but only when he's directly attacked by his words and threats, a way of not taking shit. Logan took shit from the world and than didn't from Wade and his emotional rollercoster right. And I think without whatever happened in that Honda Odyssey things wouldn't have been the same. They needed that fight, that release, that hatred from themselves to burst into the form of someone else who could take it just as much as the other could.
Logan listens to Wade's home at the borderlands. Logan is given kindness and tough love. Logan joins. Logan begins to understand how most linger by Wade's side despite everything. He sees why. He's a force, he doesn't give up, he doesn't quit, not for others. It grants strength, though imperfect and messy.
Logan believes Wade deserves better. So he plans on sacrificing himself only for Wade to once again show how much of a Hero he wants to be and could be. Only for those two idiots to hold hands to madona and come to a mutual understanding and comfort that has Wade making room for Logan in his and Al's apartment.
And there is something so inherently a-spec about not being explicitly sexual with each other, having an understanding that goes beyond direct words and full truths. They they can hurt one another and it feels so good, so wanted and cherished. How they support one another by being fucked up and sloppy. They're wrecks and they help the other heal, do what they're too afraid to do.
What is more a-spec than two people looking at each other with adoration and trust? To be two people who cannot be placed within a single both because their relationship and meaning to one another isn't so neatly cut and within expectations? To love in a way that blood and standing side by side is a comfort? A steadying point in which everything becomes clearer with time?
They make me so fucking sick, they make me so FUCKING SICK.
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0097linersb · 3 months ago
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Little White Lies (m)
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Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Reader
Genre: Smut, basically pwp, kind of fluff for a bit
Word count: 5k~
Summary: Satoru gets too excited at the thought of being your husband.
Follow me on twitter: marmitasatosugu <3 I´ll proofread this some other day
You thanked God every day that Satoru had the attention span of a 2-year-old considering that you often got away with stuff solely because he was walking around pointing at random clouds or rambling about what movie to watch later. Shoko joked once that you should just leash him after he rushed excitedly to feed some pigeons on the street, but you just laughed it off – you loved the way he was, fully and completely.
Now to quote an example: after a few years of dating, sometimes you found yourself telling a little white lie around, simply because it was so much easier to just call Satoru your husband rather than your boyfriend, especially since it made people take you so much more seriously. It started small, workers had been referring to the man as your spouse for so long that at some point, you just stopped correcting them. It was great, it was practical; people would treat you with more respect and you would have fun inside your little fantasy world.
“My husband will pay for it, the one with the white hair over there.”
“Good afternoon, I´m looking for a gift for my husband.”
“My husband will pick it up later, thank you.”
“Put it on my husband´s tab, please.”
Satoru never caught on to it and you´d much rather that he never did – but once again, the probabilities of it happening were low: if you weren´t holding his hand, he was probably far from you, exploring the big world around him and all its wonders. But oh well, your luck couldn´t last forever.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Y/N,” The receptionist with the Hawaiian shirt smiled once you and Satoru walked inside the resort hand-in-hand. “This must be your husband, welcome to Crystal Waves, Mr. Gojo. Congratulations on the wedding!”
Frozen in place for a second, you couldn´t for the life of you look at your boyfriend. It´s not that you were ashamed, it was a silly little thing that you knew Satoru wouldn´t mind or judge you for, it´s just that… He would tease you so much, you´d never hear the end of it.
You had forgotten all about how when making the reservations, after a long conversation with the lady on the phone, somehow you ended up with free upgrades because apparently it was your honeymoon – Technically, all you said was that the reservation was for you and your husband, she was the one who, probably trying to be nice, commented that she was surprised because you sounded so young, therefore asking if you were newlyweds, so naturally you agreed because the little lie you told was now too far along to take back.
That was almost two months ago, of course you´d forgotten about it. If you hadn´t, you could have just filled Satoru in on the little story, he would love to play pretend, and this was right up his alley. But you didn´t, so before he could say anything, you swallowed down the embarrassment and pretended normality, “Good afternoon, Martha. Yes, this is he.”
You still didn´t look at Satoru, but you heard him thanking her amusedly.
“We´re so glad to have you here,” She smiled as another worker brought you welcome orange cocktails with a beautiful pink flower decorating the glass before guiding you towards the front desk for check-in.
“Did you have a chance to look at all the activities we offer?” Martha asked after you finished signing the paperwork. “For some of the schedules, we ask for the reservations to be made in advance.”
“Yes, that´s understandable. I´m interested in the SPA treatments; we can book it for tomorrow if you have any spots available.”
“Yes, of course. Are we going for the complete package, back massage, facial, scalp treatment, hot stones, body rub…?”
“I think the back ma-”
“Complete package,” Satoru interrupted, tightening the hold on your hand.
“Ok, perfect. 9 AM, 2 PM or 5PM?” Martha asked, clicking away on the computer, smiling up at Satoru for his romantic gesture.
“9 sound goods.”
“Any other plans?”
You waited for Satoru to answer, since he was the one who spent days rambling about some of the stuff he wanted to do, but since he stayed silent, you cleaned your throat and took it upon yourself, “The parasailing one, what days do you have it available?”
“Will it be just your husband or you´ll be going as well?”
“Both of us.”
“Looks like we have an opening two days from now at 3 PM, does that sound good?”
“Perfect, and what about the White Stones Trail?”
“It happens every Monday at 8 AM, should I book it for the two of you?”
“Oh God no, just for my husband, please.”
You didn´t even notice you got carried away in the role until Satoru dropped your hand, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you slightly closed, his thumb rubbing the skin on your side. You still refused to look at him.
“Booked. Anything else?”
“We´d like to go scuba diving on Tuesday.”
“We have a boat leaving at 10 AM.”
“Sounds good. I guess that´s all for now.”
“All set then, these are the keys to your room. The elevator is at the end of the hall to your left, press 10. Your bags are already waiting for you inside. Hope you have an incredible stay and please find me if you need anything.”
You both thanked Martha before you spun in your heels and tried to make a run for it, your escape plan being quickly ruined by Satoru´s hand finding yours once again, holding you close. Taking a deep breath, you accepted defeat and prepared yourself mentally for the next days of hell.
“So…” Satoru started once you were out of earshot from the main desk. You didn´t look at him but you could tell just by the tone of his voice that he was smiling as you walked down the hall.
“Don´t start,” You warned.
“Too late. Husband, huh?”
“Listen, don´t get your panties in a twist-”
“Oh, I´m absolutely getting my panties in a twist.”
“There´s a logical explanation for all of this,” You informed as he pressed the elevator button.
“Which is?”
“I don´t want to talk about it.”
“But you will.”
You sighed, “When I made the reservations, I told them it was our honeymoon so we´d get upgraded and get like, some free stuff.”
The elevator doors dinged open and you walked in, not even being able to appreciate the paradisiacal panoramic beach view inside. Satoru dropped your hand now that you had nowhere to run, leaning against the glass window and crossing his arms to look at you attentively – At least that´s what you guessed since your eyes were glued to the ceiling.
“Y/N, I´m rich,” He stated as a matter of fact, because well, it was true. “You don´t need to lie to get stuff.”
Shit.
He caught you on your semi-lie - and he knew it too by the way there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You shouldn´t have looked at him.
“Fuck, ok,” You rolled your eyes, annoyed that he wouldn´t just accept your answer and move on. Taking another deep breath, you carefully measured your words: “Sometimes, for practical reasons, I just tell people we´re married.”
“For practical reasons?”
“Yes, it makes my life easier in certain situations.”
“And how long have you been doing this for?”
Would this damn elevator never reach your floor?
“A few months.”
“And what are you telling people I am?”
“Are you stupid? If we´re married, you´re my husband.”
“Which makes you, my wife.”
The doors finally opened and Satoru reached for your hand, practically dragging you along with his abnormally long legs as you stared at his back.
“Yes Satoru, that´s the correct term.”
“So, you're telling people that you´re my wife?”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, struggling to keep up with his pace and confused at his reaction. You expected insufferable teasing for the next few days and not… Whatever this was.
“Yes Sato – Are you ok? Did you hit your head or something?”
“No,” He finally stopped in front of your room, turning around to look at you with a huge smile on his face as you caught your breath. “I´m just so hard right now.”
“You- You´re what now?” You choked out as he searched his pockets for the magnetic card that opened the door. Your eyes automatically trailed down his pants and he was indeed not lying about his current state. “Do you have a thing for elevators?”
Satoru celebrated when he found the key, positioning it against the lock and smiling when he heard the engines turning, eyes back on you as he opened the door eagerly, “No, but I do have a thing for you calling me your husband.”
He didn´t wait for an answer, pulling you into the room and practically banging the door closed before pressing you against it. Satoru ripped his black glasses off, throwing them somewhere on the floor before bending down to your height so your faces were only inches apart.
“Say it again.”
“Satoru, let´s look around the room first, enjoy the view -”
“That can wait, I´d rather enjoy this view for now.”
“´Twas expensive,” You tried again.
“I´d spend all my money on you. Now say it again.”
“What?”
“Call me your husband.”
You were still so confused, was this a trap? For some reason, Satoru seemed to be enjoying it, a bit too much even. You let your walls crumble down slightly, wrapping your arms around Satoru´s neck so you´d be more comfortable.
“My husband?” You tentatively obeyed.
He instantly groaned, crashing his lips against yours with so much need that you felt like this was your first time all over again. He started by holding your face, his hands so big that he could hold your jaw with his palms while his fingers dug at the roots of your hair on your nape. He just held you like you were absolutely everything in the world to him and that got your legs weak. His tongue massaged yours and you were whining against his mouth in no time, hands clawing at his black shirt harsher every time he grinded against you. Satoru was equally as worked up, his chest heaving up and down as his hands left your face to grab at the back of your thighs, pulling you up so you could wrap your legs around his hips.
It was so much easier kissing him like this, since you were actually able to reach him. Unfortunately though, this new position got your boyfriend´s throbbing cock right against your core which you know, did nothing to calm you down. You grabbed at his hair in pure need, making a mess out of it as he left your swollen and wet lips alone to attack your neck.
“You´re so beautiful,” He groaned against your neck after he sucked at your jugular, his hips subconsciously bucking against yours. “Can´t believe you´re mine.”
“Satoru,” You moaned as he bit into the junction of your shoulder and neck.
His lips caught yours once again in another messy and aggressive kiss, his right hand leaving your thigh to start bunching up the bottom of your dress until he could see your panties.
“I could just take you right now,” He groaned against your lips.
“Then do it.”
The corner of his lips tugged up in amusement, “Now that´s no way to treat my wife, is it?”
His own words seemed to light another fire inside him, before you could even react, he was kissing you roughly once again, spinning the two of you around and carrying you towards the bed, where he threw you unceremoniously. You yelped at the impact and once more when he grabbed at your calves, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You supported yourself up on your elbows, so you could see when he went down to his knees in between your legs.
He stayed there on the floor for a few seconds, simply admiring the wet spot on your panties, your legs folded up so they wouldn´t be dangling from the edge of the bed. As you were about to complain, he pressed his thumb right on your clit over the fabric, before slowly rubbing circles with the pad of his finger, staring at what he was doing like he was hypnotized. A gasp left your lips at the surprise feeling and his eyes, which were so focused, snapped out of the trance to look up at you.
As your eyes met, he smiled, “My wife.”
“What´s up with you?” You shakily asked as he gently slid your panties down your legs, throwing them away somewhere.
“I just like the sound of it,” Satoru answered as he grabbed at your thighs once again, positioning them on his shoulders, placing a wet kiss on your inner tight.
Your head fell back in pleasure when he bent down, slowly licking your slit from bottom to top before giving your clit a light suck. He then pulled away slightly and you could already see his lips glistening, his arms wrapped around your tights firmly.
“Tell me you´ll marry me.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, not familiar with this type of foreplay and not sure if this was the right setting for this type of discussion. In response to your silence, he dove back in, his tongue eagerly working on your clit – Why did your boyfriend, besides being rich and extremely hot, also have to be good at just fucking everything?
As soon as you left a moan out and he felt your body start twitching at his ministrations, he leaned back once again, “Tell me.”
He looked at you so hungrily that you heard yourself answering before even realizing, “I´ll marry you, Satoru.”
“And that we will have a big, beautiful family.”
And suddenly, it all made sense: Gojo Satoru, the single most powerful sorcerer in the whole world, unraveled at the thought of marrying you, of you being his, of being loved and having a happy family. Your chest filled with so much love suddenly; your boyfriend was such a loser.
“I´ll give you all that,” You agreed.
Even if it was a fantasy, for this moment it didn´t have to be.
You gave him the answer he wanted, and he excitedly went back to his job after hearing your words. His tongue expertly lapping at you in between kisses and sucks, one of your hands flying to grab at his hair to try and ground yourself. Even after years with this man, you´d never be able to get used to just how good he was at fucking you - and today especially, after a long time of not being touched because either you or him were always away for work, you were feeling extra sensitive.
Satoru knew exactly what to do to get you squirming in record time, flatting his tongue to draw circles against your clit, flicking his tongue from side to side, up and down, fucking it into you and it just drove you absolutely crazy. Even his groans of pleasure as he ate you out with so much hunger, vibrating against you, got your head spinning.
“I´m close,” You moaned, as if he didn´t already know.
“Not yet, hang in there,” He stopped, breathing hard and turning his head to the side, vehemently kissing the inner part of your thigh twice more before sitting up on his knees. “I´m having fun.”
He completely ignored your whines of protest, sitting you up so his face was now right in front of your boobs. Satoru smiled in victory at the view, softly sliding the two straps of your dress down your shoulder until all the fabric fell to your waist. Your boyfriend wasted no time, kissing all over the skin of your chest and leaving what soon would be many deep purple marks, his thumb teasing your nipples.
“Have I told you how much I love your boobs?”
“A few times,” You joked in between gasps, you both knew he would tell you that like, at least once a day.
“If I could just hold them all day I´d be the happiest man on earth,” Was the last thing he said before his mouth latched around your nipple, your back arching into the touch.
Once Satoru was satisfied with his work, he gently pushed you back into bed and climbed on top of you, supporting his weight on his two arms. At this point, you were just praying that he would fuck you already, you were dripping, walls clenching around nothing so desperately it hurt – and your boyfriend wasn´t much better, in this position you could feel very clearly how much his cock was throbbing.
You whined in need as he stared at you with his pretty blue eyes and laughed at your desperation – as if you couldn´t see he was about to cum in his pants too.
“What does my baby want?” He smirked condescendingly, amused at your need.
“To be fucked,” You groaned.
“Ah, anything for my wife,” He agreed, now only supporting his weight on his left arm as he snaked his other hand in between your bodies. “Just let me open you up first.”
You would complain you didn´t need to be prepped, but before you could say anything, his middle finger was already inside you and you forgot what you were going to say. He gently and languidly pumped his finger in and out a few times, adding another when he considered you were good to go.
You were a whiny mess, especially when he curled his fingers and found spots no one ever could before.
“Will you take my family name?” Satoru asked suddenly, his face right in front of yours, attentively watching your expression, his hair tickling your forehead. You were too out of it to even process the words coming out of his mouth. “You know the Gojo Clan is one of the most important and powerful clans in the country. It would sound nice, Gojo Y/N.”
He smiled kind of sadistically at your dazed expression before continuing, his fingers not stopping even once, “Or I could take your last name, I don´t mind. Who gives a fuck about the Gojo Clan anyways? I just suggested it ´cause I´d love everyone to know you´re mine.”
Satoru sped up his fingers and you grabbed his arm, your whole body shaking as your high approached, “But if you accept, you´ll be the heiress of everything, everything will be yours, including me. You can do anything you want, order whoever you want, and spend whatever you want, I´ll let you rule over it all, one snap of your fingers and it´s yours. My wife, the head of the Gojo clan.”
A dragged-out moan left your lips not only because of his restless fingers inside of you, but also because of the whole scenario he was painting, he wanted you to have it all, he wanted to be the one to give you everything. He felt the way your walls were squeezing around him and smiled, slowing down his fingers, “But for now, I´ll be a good husband and fuck my beautiful wife until she´s crying.”
At that, your eyes lit up, quickly sitting up to unbutton his shirt as he unzipped his pants. Once he was done with his trousers, he started helping you with the buttons and you abandoned your task, deciding to litter the already exposed parts of his chest and abdomen with kisses, an “I love you” leaving your mouth in between each touch of your lips on his skin – Because you did, you loved him so much.
The show of affection drove Satoru crazy, harshly throwing his shirt away. You were equally insane at the sight of your boyfriend in just his boxers, practically salivating as if this wasn´t the thousandth time you´d seen him like this. He caught you looking at him in pure awe and smiled, leaning over you for a quick sweet kiss before getting rid of his boxers.
“I´ll get you a ring so big it´ll weigh on your finger,” He informed as he climbed on top of you. “Everyone will be able to spot it from miles away.”
“Don´t want it, just want you.”
“You already have me,” He held your face, his eyes so intense you froze for a second. “Always had, always will.”
“What a simp,” You teased as if you weren´t right about to cry.
“Only for my wife,” He smiled, admiring your face.
“And now will my husband finally please fuck me?”
You said it kind of jokingly, but the title appeared to do the trick anyways; you felt his cock twitching against your thigh before he grabbed at one of your legs, pushing your knee slightly up and groaning as he grabbed his member to position it against you.
After all this lovey-dovey talk, you kind of expected Satoru to want to make slow gentle sappy love to you, and you wouldn´t exactly mind since that was amazing as well, but oh you were so wrong. You had miscalculated how horny the thought of being your husband got your boyfriend, because as he entered you, a loud groan left his lips and while normally he would wait for you to adjust to his size, this time he just kept going. At least he was slow with it, slow enough that you could feel every vein, every inch of his skin against your walls, every ridge, every bump.
You dug your nails into his back to distract yourself from the discomfort as he bottomed out, his lips open in a silent moan, and you caught yourself thinking about how lucky you were; out of everyone in the world, you were the only one who got to see the Honored one like this, so vulnerable and beautiful and yours.
“You feel so good,” He breathed out, beginning to drag his cock out. “Every fucking time.”
You didn´t care if it hurt, you wanted him to destroy you, “Satoru?”
“Yes, beautiful?”
As he started fucking into you again, you lost your words, but the pleading look you gave him and the drag of your nails down his back sent him the message loud and clear.
“Oh,” He smirked. “How am I so lucky?”
You felt his lips on yours as he began to speed up his hips, his right hand wrapping around your thigh so he could pull you flush against his cock. You cursed, feeling like you were being impaled, “Fuck.”
“To have a beautiful sweet loving wife who wants to be fucked like a slut.”
His hips were so smooth yet so fast, knowing all the right angles to get you biting at his shoulder and squeezing your walls around him.
“And you know what´s the best? All these men wanting you will have to know you´re only mine.”
It came as a surprise to you after a few months of dating that Satoru Gojo was a jealous boyfriend. It made absolutely no sense to you, considering that he was… well, Satoru Gojo. Like, what do you mean the strongest and most powerful man in the world, who could end all civilization with a flick of his finger if he wanted to, got bothered when you and Nanami took a cooking class together?
However, you kind of liked his possessiveness over you, especially when it made him thrust harder into you, got his tongue in your mouth in public, or his hand around your neck at a bar.
He felt the way you clenched at his words, breaking apart from you with a groan and flipping you around before you could even process what was happening. The way he could just throw you around so easily got you moaning into the sheets as you arched your back waiting for him.
Satoru didn´t leave you waiting for long, a second later he was already bottoming out inside you once again, and the hotel sheets were proven to be good quality when they didn´t rip under your fingers as he fucked you like his life depended on it.
You were completely lost, brain scrambled as you communicated through moans and gasps, especially when he pulled you up by the neck so your back stood against his chest. His hand stayed there, holding you in place and choking you as his other hand teasingly found its way down your abdomen, finding your clit as its destination.
Your whole body was shaking, Satoru´s arms were probably almost bleeding with how harshly your nails dug into it so you wouldn´t scream.
“You were made for me. Your pussy was made for me,” His moan was raspy against your ear. “Mine. Only for me. Your husband.”
Satoru was close and you were doing your best to buck your hips back to meet his thrusts, already at the edge too with the way his finger kept rubbing number eights against your clit. You stretched your hand back to grab at his hair, stupid at the feeling of being fucked open. He groaned at you pulling his hair, biting your shoulder to warn you he was about to cum.
“Inside,” You rasped.
He literally shivered at your words, a loud moan leaving his mouth as he thrust into you deeper than anyone had ever been before, including himself. Your vision went blank, your orgasm hitting you without warning and no time for you to prepare yourself, your body twitched violently as gasps left your lips, knowing you would have fallen like a doll if Satoru hadn´t been holding your neck.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck,” He cursed, losing control at the way your walls were crazily clenching around him.
His wet and warm mouth was soon on your shoulders, desperately kissing the bite marks he was leaving. You barely felt as he came inside you, or how his cock twitched against your walls, or how you could barely breathe with how tight he held your neck once his orgasm hit, too lost in your own pleasure. You did hear the beautiful noises coming out from his lips, prolonging your orgasm.
Once the two of you came back to reality, breathing hard, Satoru gently let go of your neck, softly rubbing his thumb over the red marks. As expected, your legs failed to hold you and your chest met the bed a second later, your eyes closed to try and come down from your high.
Satoru stayed on his knees, eyes glued to the way you were dripping out because of your walls´ spasms. He just couldn´t help himself, gathering all his cum that spilled with his fingers, ignoring your whines of protest, and pushing it all back in.
“Just a second baby,” He answered dazedly, his fingers still working.
He was obsessed, addicted to the view. No matter how much your body twitched because of the overstimulation, he couldn´t stop pumping his fingers into you, feeling how wet and slick you were around him. He groaned at the way your lips were swollen because of him, thumb gently rubbing your clit. He continued until your whines turned into moans, until your hips stopped trying to run away and instead bucked back against his fingers, until he felt himself getting hard again.
You didn´t complain when you felt his cock entering you once again, his lips worshiping your back as your eyes remained closed, slightly arching your hips to give him better access as he slowly and gently fucked you. Satoru caressed your hair and kissed your temples, your nape, your eyes, all while calling you beautiful and telling you how much he loved you.
…………………………………………….
“Gojo Satoru.”
Sensing your tone, he didn´t answer in pure fear.
The silence made you leave the bathroom, staring at your boyfriend who was in bed looking at you with wide eyes, “What´s wrong, baby?”
“We´re at a beach resort,” You said in between gritted teeth. “How the fuck am I supposed to go to the beach when it looks like I have been mauled by a bear after being dragged around town by a car?”
“I´m sorry, I got carried away.”
“Oh my god, call Martha and cancel the SPA day tomorrow.”
“I can give you a massage-”
“You´re never touching me again, Satoru.”
He smirked at that, “Yeah, give me a few hours and we´ll see.”
You hated that he was right.
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lastoneout · 3 months ago
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Honestly, I don't say it often bcs I know how this site is but I really do think for a lot of survivors of abuse, especially abuse that went on for years and years, sometimes the message "it's not your fault, you didn't do anything wrong/to deserve this" while ABSOLUTELY TRUE* isn't actually super helpful. For a lot of us there's a LOT of guilt tied into it, and even if things were truly out of our hands we will not be able to accept that we are truly blameless, at least not at first, and maybe for some of us not ever. So being told "no dw you didn't do anything wrong <3 <3 you're innocent" feels...idk like some toxic positivity style lies. It doesn't make me feel better, because I still do feel like there were things that happened that were my fault, that were in my control, even an ethicist or god or whoever could look me dead in the eyes, weigh all the facts, and assure me of my complete innocence, and I still wouldn't believe it. (Tbh, you have to be ready to forgive yourself and trying to force it early does more harm than good.)
And I occasionally see movies and shows and stuff get roasted all to hell for having the audacity to go with a different message, to offer abused characters not a platitude about how they are innocent and should forgive themselves asap, but instead say "so what if it was your fault? so what if you fucked up? you're still alive, you still have time, your mistakes(or perceived mistakes) don't make you irredeemable scum who deserves to suffer, it's okay that you fucked up, what matters is what you do next, and even if the horrible thing was your fault in one way or another or you did actually hurt people, you still did NOT deserve to be hurt in turn" because people think that is like, admitting that the person in question is at fault when they almost always aren't....but as an actual survior, I'm sorry, you can tell me I'm innocent till the cows come home and I won't believe it. What I need to hear is that even if it was my fault I didn't deserve to be treated that way. I still deserve help. I deserve to keep going. I am not forever stained by my mistakes. I deserve a future free from this pain.
I think before we look at things in this like...grand moral way where we try to make sure we're sending the most Correct and Healthy Message Possible, sometimes it's worth asking if that message is actually the one the people it's about need to hear. I'm sure for some people it is very freeing to be told it's not their fault, but that kind of message does not resonate with me. And I, as well as people like me, deserve to expirience stories about us that are cathartic, that resonate, that make us feel seen, and to not have to see everyone and their mom throw a fit because what helps us is "problematic".
Anyway this has been mulling around in my head for a while and I def have a lot more to say about the way guilt manifests in trauma born of abuse, but yeah I just feel like this is something that should be talked about when we bring up abuse narratives and how well written they are and if they send the Correct Message, because the "Correct Message" is never going to be the same for everyone. And that's true of ANY demographic you could choose to represent!
Like some disabled people might enjoy the "magically healed" trope while others find it offensive. Some trans people like stories where transitioning is easy as drinking a potion or getting a fancy futuristic surgery and some find that that trivializes their struggles. Some queer people want stories where there's just no homophobia at all, others find that a world without it feels fake and patronizing. Some women do want to read stories about how keeping hearth and home is noble and empowering and others want read about women who have other jobs and never have kids or get married. For some of us "you're beautiful no matter what" is lovely and some of us just want to be told being fat and hairy and having acne and scars and shit is normal and fine. Or, like the last post I reblogged says, sometimes "you're not a burden" doesn't hit as well as "being a burden isn't a bad thing". No one type of representation is ever going to work for everyone, and that doesn't mean one type of rep is objectively wrong and the other is objectively right.
So yeah, the next time you find yourself angry because you think a story is sending the wrong message about a marginalized or harmed group, maybe stop for a second to ask yourself if it's actually harmful...or if you're not the person who the story is speaking to, and if there's someone it is talking to who desperately needs to hear what it has to say.
(*Getting ahead of this now: Do not put words in my mouth. I am not saying that any abused person in any way deserved their abuse or was at fault for it happening, that is not up for debate. The fault is always in the hands of the person who chose to hurt them. I'm just saying it's nuanced and complicated and guilt is a huge fucking issue that survivors have to deal with all the time and it's not wrong to acknowledge that some of us are always going to feel like we did something wrong and not be eased by being told otherwise even if the person saying it is 100% correct and/or means well. I do not have time for people who are going to willfully misinterpret me. You will be blocked.)
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inlovewithalcinadimitrescu · 4 months ago
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I am NOT a writer but I found this in my notes and I thought, this doesn’t suck that much- I probably won’t continue it cuz I have mixed feelings and I’m not used to writing. English isn’t my first language so if there’s any mistake that’s why. This is Wandanat x Reader btw.
When you find yourself on a mission that went downhill pretty fast next to the last pair you would like to be alone with, Maximoff and  Romanoff, let's just say that it's not your ideal way to spend the weekend. It's not like you dislike them, on the contrary, you love them so much it makes you mad.
Natasha and Wanda had been in a relationship for years now, when you joined they were already together so it was a sight everybody else would say you've grown accustomed to.
How wrong they are. The truth is that you craved to be the object in between their affection. You were so jelous they shared kisses and touches sitting on the couch of the compound,
"Y/n",
You felt so jealous of the affectionate hugs from behind that Natasha loves to give to her lover,
"Y/n",
Jelous of the kisses on the cheek that Wanda couldn't go half an hour without giving to her lover,
"Y/n?"
Jealous of-
"Y/n!"
Natasha's voice was not rough, just a higher tone destined to get your attention, she leaned to your side to get closer to your ear "We lost you for a second there".
You blushed and blinked a couple of times "Oh, sorry, I was just thinking-"
"Yes, we need to do a lot of that to get out of here.” Wanda examined the surroundings with a sharp gaze, she had been shot in the shoulder but she didn't seemed fazed by it. "We should try to round the building, there is a safe house that way into the forest" Wanda says way too calm "Are you sure it's a good idea? We could just try to make the run back to the motorcycles and find a way to communicate with the team." Natasha seemed calm on the outside but you could see the way her eyes gave up the worry towards the condition of her partner. "We can treat Wanda in the safe house, the most important thing right now is to get away from this building, we can't risk either of you getting hurt." Wanda looked at you with a warm smile and those gorgeous green eyes while Natasha just nodded at your words with an unreadable expression.
You took the run, you behind them so if any bullet was shot towards them you'll be the one to receive them. It's worth to say that the powers don't take away the pain, and most importantly every wound you got took a toll on your organism. By the end of the run you looked like you just got out of your grave. Your heart rate would've just have already killed any normal human, your eyes were fighting to stay open, a boiling fever was present, you could barely breathe and your body screamed for a lie down. And lie down you did. The last thing you heard was your muffled name and a rustling of a person reaching towards you.
Natasha caught you just in time the moment you passed out, "Shit, lyubov' we need to lie her down". (love) Wanda seemed more preoccupied over you than over her wounded shoulder. Both of them entered the safe house, Natasha lied you down on the bed while Wanda looked for the first aid kit.
"There, there, Malysh" (baby) Natasha was wiping your forehead with a wet towel to try and cool your body down. "Natasha?" Natasha looked up from your face and watched as Wanda was nursing her own wound, Natasha left the cold towel on your forehead to tend to her partner. Wanda's eyes were fixated on you while her lover took care of her. "She's going to be ok, malysh" Natasha said as she finished putting bandages on Wanda's wound.
Silence filled the room, unspoken words clinging to their minds. "What are we going to do?" Wanda's quesion made her partner stare into the eyes of her lover, the intensity of both green eyes didn’t seem to faze either of them, both of them knew what Wanda was referring to. They both glanced at your exhausted body.
Many hours have the duo spent talking about you, many team movie nights have been spent just admiring you, and many other moments have they tried to reach to you but you always seem to be moving on the opposite direction.
Your little secret have been out of the box for a while, one day Wanda heard your thoughts about being with them, she couldn't have been happier to tell her partner that both ways reciprocated, since then they have been trying to get closer to you. "We have to tell her." Natasha interrupted the train of thoughts they both were in.
And that’s it
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coff33andb00ks · 5 months ago
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Burning - LN
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Hopeless, Part 4
{1 - Hopeless} {2 - Luxury} {3 - Poison} {4 - Burning} {Epilogue}
Lando Norris x fem!reader summary: my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder, all my riches for her smiles, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter songs: lover, you should have come over by jeff buckley word count: 5872 warnings: angst, smut <mdni> a.n.: the finale <3
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The overlook is quite lovely. Prettier than the photos he'd seen. The sea air is crisp, filling his lungs as he stares at a young family strolling along the beach. Pushing his hands into his pockets he watches them, homesick for something he's never had as the toddler picks up something to show their parents. A wholesome, beautiful moment, unmarred, and he swallows the lump in his throat as it occurs to him that he'll never experience it himself.
Turning his back to the sea, he breathes deep, eyes slowly scanning the area. Trying to match it to the description he'd been given. Gaze landing on the weathered bench he finds he's already walking towards it, one hand slipping from his pocket and reaching to trail along the arm, feeling the wood that's been carved with words and initials. And there, just as he'd been told, the two letters he would know anywhere.
Yours.
He drops onto the bench, leaning forward and trying to keep his breathing normal. It's the closest he's been to you in about a year – one year, two months, one week, five days, thirteen hours.
No, there was that day over winter break. When, melancholy and yearning, he'd spent more than he should have to fly out the week before Christmas, ignoring Oscar's suggestions that he stay away. He'd rented a car, following the roads you'd told him about to the seaside town that you'd described in such detail he could have drawn a map before seeing it. He'd driven the streets, stopped a few houses down from your parents' home. Had sat, watching the house, then cursed himself a million times over for being a fool and driven off.
Oscar hadn't said told you so. He'd merely sighed and nodded, listened to his sad story again.
You'd be so happy that Oscar's become his best mate. He wants to tell you, because he knows that only you would understand why it was such a big deal.
"Mate?"
He looks up, sighing at the sight of Oscar. "Nice, yeah?"
Oscar sighs sadly, sitting next to him on the bench. "You're torturing yourself."
"You said I could have one day," Lando reminds him.
"She's not gonna show up here on a Thursday morning," Oscar says after a moment.
"I know." It would be too movielike if you did. And the only genre of movies that reflects his life is tragedy. Standing, he walks over to stare at the beach again. The family has gone, their footprints already erased by the waves. When he heads back, Oscar stands, and there's a long look before they walk together to the gravel lot where they parked.
"Just call her." It's probably the billionth time Oscar has said the words since Lando's trip to Melbourne over summer break last year.
He exhales, about to lie and say he's deleted your number. But Oscar doesn't deserve lies. "I've tried."
"Did she block you?"
"Dunno." He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, stopped at the end of the lane coming down from the overlook. There's not much traffic, nowhere near enough to warrant him sitting idle for so long. He can't bring himself to hit the call button after punching in your number. Which he still knows by heart. The only number aside from his mum's that he has memorized.
"Lan?" Oscar ventures softly.
"Am I stupid?" he blurts.
Oscar sighs. "No."
"This—" He gestures angrily at their surroundings. "This isn't fucking stupid?"
"I wouldn't say stupid. Ill-advised, maybe?" Oscar follows a passing car with his eyes. "It's been a year."
He knows.
"I think if you were able to get over it, you wouldn't be here right now."
"I don't even know if she's here." His voice is wavering and he can feel the sadness and frustration and anger stinging, piercing what's left of his heart over and over, clawing up his throat and up into his brain, burning his eyes.
"You know her better than anyone." Oscar's voice is still gentle and soft. Careful, and Lando knows he's truly only there to support him. "Where else would she go?"
"Nowhere." This tiny corner of the world is your home.
"Call her."
Lando throws the car into park and bangs his forehead against the steering wheel. "This is stupid. It's been a year. A fucking year. I can't even bring myself to text her or call her, what the fuck do I think I'm gonna do if I bump into her on the fucking street?"
Oscar doesn't speak, merely waits.
"What would I say to her?" he whispers, scared to raise his voice because he knows he'll either scream or cry.
"Mate…"                                                                         
"It's stupid. I'm stupid. I should never have—" He cuts off, swallowing hard, squeezing his eyes shut. It shouldn't still hurt this bad. "I shouldn't have come."
"But you did."
"Yeah," he gasps.
Oscar's silent for a long moment, looking out the window while Lando struggles to compose himself, knowing that if he reaches out to offer comfort it won't be appreciated. "It's a small town, yeah?"
"Yeah." He scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms, wishing his heartbreak had been the type that was easily numbed. He's tried everything. Alcohol, exercise, random women, even random men when he was drunk enough. Therapy, antidepressants, meditation. Nothing's worked. He can get so drunk he almost forgets, he almost loses himself, but just when he's thinking this is it, it all comes rushing back and he snatches his body away from whoever he's with. Never much further than getting his belt unbuckled before he's rushing away with a shit apology and an empty ache in his chest.
It's been over for a year and it's still fucking him up. He can't do what the therapist suggested – seek forgiveness for your part in a wrongdoing – because Charles laughed in his face.
"You? Slept with her? Impossible. She has standards."
Fucking bastard.
"Switch, I'll drive."
Lando doesn't argue even though Oscar hates driving in America. Nothing rattles his unbothered friend. But six lanes of Americans driving like – Oscar's words – fucking cunts? His friend is ready to commit crimes. Once in the passenger seat he sighs, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. It isn't long before he feels the car stop and he sits up, not looking to see where they are. "I'll call the charter for a flight out."
"Not yet," Oscar tells him. "Wait here a minute."
Confused, he rubs at his eyes, trying to keep more tears from forming. He just wants to go. Best to resign himself to being lonely. Alone. Maybe he'll be lucky and time will eventually heal the pain, even just a little, and he can— Grunting as he looks out the windshield, he watches Oscar walk into a small brick building.
"Really, Osco, not the time to be a fucking nerd," he sighs, leaning back and throwing an arm over his face. Why the fuck are they at a library?
It's not long before Oscar's back, getting behind the wheel and humming softly to himself. He doesn't speak, still humming while he buckles his seatbelt and drops a folded sheet of paper in Lando's lap.
"What?" Lando sighs, dropping his arm and looking at the paper. Even more confused, he picks it up. "What is it?"
"Mate."
Sniffling, he rubs at his nose then unfolds the paper. At first he's still confused, reading the address written in Oscar's handwriting. "Is… Is that hers?"
"Yeah."
"H…" He sucks in a breath. "How."
"She said she wanted to go back to school and work in a library, right? They've got a display board up of recent things that have happened, and there was a picture of her with a bunch of kids. A paragraph about how she's working here as a research assistant while pursuing her master's in library science."
Lando rubs at his temples, knowing his friend wants to tell the whole story but longing to tell him to get to the fucking point. And also a little touched that Oscar remembered the detail about you wanting to work with books.
"Asked the lady at the desk about her, said I was an old friend driving through. She's off today, won't be back until Monday. When she went to help someone I nicked the notebook by the computer and it has everyone's address." Oscar smiles, obviously proud of his ability to spy without being caught. "Nice lady. Said y/n's an asset."
Lando nods, typing the address into the search bar of the map on his phone. "It's…"
"Close." Oscar reaches for the in-dash screen, pausing just before his fingers touch it.
He could tell him not to. Could shake his head. And Oscar would nod, they would call the charter, and be on a flight back to Monaco by dinnertime.
And he would spend the rest of his life trying to forget.
He swallows, barely nodding his head.
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"…we'll shift our focus to the surge of trade throughout the Mediterranean, but first—"
You look away from your laptop screen when there's a knock on the door. The professor drones on and you mute him, standing from the couch and setting the laptop aside to go see who it is. You're not expecting anyone, and the neighborhood isn't the type where neighbors drop in uninvited. Peeking through the window, you furrow your brow at the unfamiliar car parked on the street. Leaving the chain attached you open the front door just a bit.
And nearly hit your knees in shock.
He's looking down at the stoop, at his impossibly white sneakers, and his hood's pulled up over his head but you know it's him.
"Lando," you breathe.
His head lifts and his eyes take your breath away. They're just as you remember them, the jade hue that could see straight through to your soul.
He looks sad. Worried.
Scared.
"H-hey," he says, his voice cracking slightly.
You can only stare at him, unable to really believe he's on your front stoop. The light breeze picks up and you're slammed by the aroma of his cologne. It's so faint you know you shouldn't be able to smell it but you do and a wave of memories rush through you with it.
"Hey, nice to meet you." He smiled, an easygoing aura radiating from him as he stepped over and held out his hand. "I'm Lando."
"Hi, I'm y/n."
You press your lips together and swallow hard. "Hey," you murmur.
You, walking along pit lane with Charles and on the phone with your best friend. "So I finally got the game installed. I need to upgrade, the lag is so bad I die before I can get a shot in."
"Really? What are the specs?" Lando asked suddenly, appearing at your side.
"Call you back," you laughed into the phone, putting it away and smiling at him. He was always popping up to talk to you, had quickly become one of your favorite people on the grid. He never seemed too busy to at least stop and speak to you, that easy smile putting you at ease.
Lando exhales, his shoulders rounding. His eyes are almost mournful, the light of memory flashing and you wonder if he's reminiscing, too.
"Sorry 'bout the mess," he muttered, picking up a helmet and looking around, finally placing it two inches from where it had been.
"It's fine," you promised with a laugh. "You live here, it shouldn't look like a magazine spread."
"Yeah? I guess. Anyway, here you go, have a seat."
You swallow again, the sound of his hand slapping his computer chair echoing in your mind. Easing the door to a little, you reach up to unlatch the chain and take a step back as you pull the door open further. "What are… How did you know where to find me?"
"I love it here, really, but I miss the space. I miss having a little patch of grass where I can plant flowers and not have people squeezing in around me," you said, sliding the tarts from the baking sheet to the cooling rack.
"I get it. But I mean, you could talk to Charles, right? See about getting a place with a garden?" Lando looked at the tarts with a longing sigh.
"At least let it cool," you teased. Leaning against the counter, you shook your head. "No, this is his home. He'll never want to move out of Monaco."
"I like it here, but it's not home." He shrugged, pinching off a piece of the pastry shell for a taste, grinning when you slapped at his hand. "There's a villa up the coast a ways – it has space and nice gardens. I've thought about getting it, but seems a waste just for me."
"You could get a dog."
He's standing in your tiny living room. He looks so out of place and yet he fits and you think you're just in shock. Pushing back his hood, he fiddles with his hair, the nervous gesture you remember him doing. "Osco… He's with me – I mean, in the car," he says, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. "Man's a fucking spy I think."
"No, no, you put your hand here." His face is serious as he guides your hand to his shoulder. "Okay?"
You nodded, grateful he was willing to teach you. You knew Charles would happily pay for dancing lessons but it's embarrassing, not knowing how to waltz. And when you'd mentioned it to Lando he'd said to come by, he could show you the basics, and he'd practice with you so you wouldn't make a fool of yourself at the prince's gala. His hand moved to rest at your waist, warm and strong, and you felt a glimmer of heat as his other hand took yours, holding it up.
"We'll take it slow, yeah?" he asked softly.
He's still standing there, looking lost and scared, and all you can do is stare at him. You've seen him – on tv, online, on your phone because you hadn't been able to delete the pictures of him and every once in a while your phone likes to play a sick joke and throw you a memory that somehow always includes him. But you're struck by the slight differences since you've seen him in person. His hair is a little longer, that one curl he used to complain about dancing against his forehead. The scar from Amsterdam last year is faded, barely a line across the bridge of his nose.
He's still the most handsome man you'll ever see. He still takes your breath away. It's taking everything in you to not beg him to forgive you.
"Love it. This. Us."
You suck in a breath and hold it. "How are you?" you ask, because really what else can you say?
I'm so sorry I never should have let us end like we did, even if we were hopeless from the start. I still love you, I'll never stop loving you. I'll never stop needing you. I'm miserable.
"I'm fucking miserable, y/n." His voice is strained. "I-I came months ago. At Christmas."
You feel your eyes widen at the same time you watch his do the same. Suddenly recalling a strange car parked just down the street from your parents' home that had sped off. At the time your first thought had been that it was someone up to no good. "You did?" you whisper.
"I remembered where your mum and dad live, and I… I hoped I'd see you."
He would have, if he'd waited five minutes. But you remember the texts you'd sent that had gone unanswered. The one phone call you'd attempted two months after moving away from Monaco, at four in the morning when your dreams had been him.
They still are.
Lando takes a step forward. "Y/n…"
"Why are you here?"
"I miss you," he says, his voice still strained. Like he's just finished crying. Or is about to. And you don't want to see him cry. It'll break your unhealed heart. "Are… Are you okay?"
You jump slightly when there's a soft tap at the front door. It's still hanging open – way to go, just invite burglars and murders in – and both you and Lando spin to look.
Oscar holds both hands up. "Sorry to interrupt. Um… Hi."
"Hey," you squeak. God, you can't do this. You can't have this awkward, painful conversation in front of Oscar. "C-come on in," you say, dragging a hand through your hair.
"I, um, just…" His cheeks darken as he closes the door and he clears his throat. "Could I use the restroom?"
Blinking at him, you feel Lando step closer to you. With a small nod you point in the direction of the bathroom, backing away from Lando as soon as Oscar's back is turned.
"Y/n… Please—"
"What?" you ask. It's as though seeing Oscar threw some common sense into you. "I'm in the middle of a class."
"For the library thing, yeah?" One corner of his mouth lifts.
"How did you—" You glance towards the bathroom. "Maybe he is a fucking spy."
"He was trying to help me."
"He always has," you whisper.
"He's kept me from going completely insane this past year. I… I owe him a lot," he murmurs, and he's picking at his own fingers.
You're reaching to stop him and jerk your hand back. He's not yours to comfort. He never was. "He flew all the way here with you when he could be home with his girlfriend. I think you owe him at least a new car."
"She's pregnant."
You gasp. "Really? I should—" But you can't. You haven't been able to call her, either. You text sometimes, but your friendship with the other girlfriends will never be the same. She hasn't mentioned being pregnant and you know it's because you're not in the 'club' anymore. It's a wildly different life you lead now. And you're happy. You're miserable and lonely but you fake the happiness for the sake of your family and coworkers. "I'm happy for them."
"God, I hate this," he whispers, and he rubs his hands over his face.
Then he's reaching for you. Almost catches you, but you jerk away.
"Y/n—"
"You have no right, Lando. What, did you think I'd just fall right back into your arms?" you ask, voice trembling because you want to. You want to be hugged as only Lando's ever been able to do. But you can't let yourself, remembering all too well how your life had been destroyed because you wanted a hug once.
"I didn't – I miss you," he whispers. "It's been a year and I still can't wash the coffee cup you left on the counter because it's… It's still got your lipstick."
Your heart twists, thinking of the hoodie tucked in the very back of your closet. The one you were going to throw out two weeks ago but couldn't after you opened the bag and could still smell him. Then you firm your resolve. You can't. "I'm not stupid. I've seen how not lonely you've been—"
"I was trying to forget you!"
"Then try harder. Doomed, remember?" You'll never forget him saying that, or how your heart had fractured.
"I couldn't even do it, because I felt like I was cheating on you!" The words ring out and he looks shocked, face twisting. "That's how fucked up you got me."
That rankles you, and you don't know if it's because he tried or because he's blaming the failure on you. "It's not my fault you can't get off," you snap.
"I can only get off if I'm thinking about you," he snaps back.
Your cheeks flame, your broken mind immediately conjuring up the image of him in the shower or on his bed. And you would swear you can hear his breathy moans. You bite your tongue hard to keep from confessing that when you try to make yourself cum you have to think about him, too. "Lando—"
"Tell me you're happy," he whispers. "Say it and I'll go."
"Happiness is subjective," you say, because despite everything you can't lie to him.
There's a creak or a sigh. Both your heads swivel and though you've only ever respected and admired Oscar, you aren't happy to see him. He doesn't speak, turning and studying the notes and photos on the refrigerator door.
Your heart lurches, knowing he'll see the snapshot of Lando.
"Y/n."
You snap your eyes back to him, forgetting all about his friend when you look into his eyes.
"Can we just… Talk. Please."
"I would have talked a year ago. When you left me on read. I would have talked a few months later, when I called you and you didn't answer." The worst part had been that his voicemail greeting was the automated voice.
"I was hurting! I was trying to get over you! I wanted to hurt you—"
You gasp, the admission a knife in your chest. You deserve it, you know that, and so much worse, but it stings.
"Like you hurt me."
"What was I supposed to do, Lando? We were doomed. You said so yourself."
"I'd rather be doomed with you than broken without you."
You must leave. Despite how long it's been you're not strong enough. You doubt you'll ever be strong enough to resist him. About to step away, you remember it's your house. Small and cramped and yeah the neighbors are too close for your liking. But it's yours. "Go, Lando. Live. Be happy without me."
"Like you're happy here?" he asks, throwing his hands out. "Rotting away in a fucking library?"
"I was happy until you decided to show up." Your voice cracks and you try to hold it back but a sob escapes as you back away, shoulder banging the doorway of your bedroom.
"Don't lie to me, y/n," he pleads, taking a step closer and reaching out.
"Don't touch me." You shrug his hand away, trying to get out of his reach, lift a hand to slap his arm. He catches your wrist before you can and your breath sticks in your throat when he moves forward. "Lando, please, let me go—"
His lips crash against yours and you whimper. It's harsh and demanding and you struggle weakly against him, spinning as soon as his hand grabs your waist. His near feral moan vibrates through your body and in a heartbeat you're clutching at his hoodie, whining as your back meets the closing door.
"Lan," you whimper, shaking your head as you break the kiss. "Please, we—"
"One more," he gasps. He lets go of your wrist, his hand trembling as it cups your cheek. "God, please… I just need you one more time. Everything's wrong without you." His lips brush over yours, and you feel your own inconsolable longing reflected back at you. "Y-you were everything, let me feel everything again."
His kiss tastes like tears and stifled rage. It grows harsher, his body crowding yours tighter against the door. It's everything you've wanted for over a year and yet not enough and you whisper his name into the breaths you share, knowing you'll feel the worst pain imaginable when it's over and you're alone all over again. The pull of him is too strong though and you want to feel everything again too, want just one morsel of what you once had.
"Wish I could hate you," he groans, voice as rough as his fingers in your hair, so tight your scalp stings. You whimper with both delight and pain and he answers with a moan, snatching back, breathing uneven as his hand slides from your hair and there's a frantic, familiar scrambling to remove his hoodie and your shirt. His moan as his fingers brush your bare skin ends in a whine, tracing patterns over your chest. "Wanted to hate you. Wanted to forget you but you—" His mouth is on yours again, his hands clutching at your breasts. Your nipples are stiff before his thumbs brush them and he groans deep in his chest, pressing his thigh between yours.
He pinches and squeezes, lips almost cruel on yours, and you can feel the rage he feels. Know you deserve every bit of it for everything you'd done, and more than he's capable of showing. Tears sting your eyes. It's beautiful, crushingly so, because you know this will be the last time. You want to rush ahead, to feel the incandescence only his lovemaking had created inside you and you also want to slow down, to memorize every breath, every touch, so you can cling to the memories for the rest of your lonely existence.
"Y/n…" It's a low, drawn-out moan, lips parted over yours.
"Please," you gasp. You're practically squirming with need, and the hate for you that he can't muster is there, coming from yourself. "Need it, Lan…"
You feel his pained grimace, taste the ache and the agony on his tongue. "Need you," he whimpers.
"Us," you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as your tears fall.
"Us," he barely sighs. One hand slips down, the rage still there as it pushes between your bodies and into your panties, cupping you and squeezing. His ragged groan echoes in your ears and it shreds the last sliver of your sanity.
You tip your head forward, initiating the next kiss, loosening your grip on his biceps and letting your hands smooth over his warm skin. Breathing in and holding it so you can taste and smell and feel him all at once. Your fingers trace the necklace at his neck and more tears fall – it's the one you gave him two years ago. Rough, his fingers rub along your slit, his other hand thudding against the door then cupping your throat. His lips still on yours, whining when you brush the tears from his cheeks.
He leans into you, fingers rubbing steadily, teeth catching your bottom lip as they grow slick. "Did you…" He moans when one finger dips, your hips tilt forward, pushing yourself against his hand. "You miss me, baby?"
"Yes." You're gripping his wrist, clutching his hair.
"This?" His fingers move in slow circles over your clit. "…Or me?"
"You, Lando, you," you whimper, head falling back, the curling heat so sudden you fear you'll cum already.
"Have you let anyone fuck you?" he asks, still rubbing your clit agonizingly slowly.
"N-no." Your cheeks burn, hating yourself for feeling a spike of desire at his crude question. Pulse racing, you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, and his low hum as he leans closer, lips at your ear now. Your pussy clenches, gushing and you let out a shaky moan, able to hear the slick sounds of his fingers working your clit. Your hand wraps around his wrist and he chuckles.
"You need to cum? Hm?" He moans right in your ear and your pulse thunders beneath his fingertips at your throat. "You're gonna cum that quick?"
"I—" You whine, clutching tighter at his wrist. "It feels good, Lando, I can't…"
"It's gonna feel better when I'm fucking you," he whispers.
"Yes," you hiss, head falling back with a thump. "Please!"
"You want it, baby?" There's a slant to his cooed words and you wonder if he does hate you after all. "Want me to fuck you?" His lips tug at your earlobe, smirking while you whine. Slipping his fingers down, he dips them inside you, echoing your moan as you immediately squeeze around them. "Oh I missed your pussy so much… That's why I couldn't fuck 'em, you know?"
"Lando, please." God, you're gonna cum. It's sick and it's twisted now, but he knows exactly how to play your body.
"Cuz I know how good this feels…" He sucks on your earlobe, fingers curling tightly, exhaling harshly as they brush your spot and your hips jerk. "Gonna feel so good when you cum on my dick."
"Yes, baby, I need that," you whimper, digging your nails into his wrist. You need it more now than you did a year ago, your body buzzing. "God, please… Let me cum for you, Lan – Fuck!"
"Cum on my fingers, baby," he hisses, stroking your spot so hard it hurt. But his words and the reminder that he knew exactly what to say and do to you send you spiraling, pussy squeezing tightly around his fingers as a ragged cry ripped from your chest. "That's my girl, fuckin' cum…"
His fingers slip out and you gasp at the gush, tugging at his hair while he rubs your slit rapidly as your body tenses and trembles, panting harsh in your ear when you squirt over his fingers. When you slump back he coos, fingers strumming your clit and causing your back to arch.
He snatches his fingers from your clit with a low growl, and your lips meet in a fierce kiss, hands meeting at his belt. You wriggle between him and the door, frantic and scrambling to remove your panties, gasping against his tongue as he kicks his jeans away and then he's jerking your hips towards him, pressing his face to the side of your neck and your breath catches in the back of your throat, hooking your legs over his hips. His cock, hard and straining, glides along your slit and his teeth sink into your skin as his hips surge forward.
"Lando," you cry out, eyes rolling back.
"Make me hate you. Please, fuck, I need to hate you."
"How?" It's a broken sob.
"You can't." He presses his forehead to yours, hands so tight on your hips you know you'll feel the bruises forever. "You can't, y/n…"
"I'm sorry," you whisper, lifting trembling hands to cup his face. "I'm so sorry, Lando."
He exhales slow, releasing your hips and sliding his hands up, keeping the rest of his body still. It feels as though he's re-memorizing your body, closing his eyes while his palms sweep over your shoulders and up to your wrists. There's a prolonged moment as his shaky breaths fan over your lips, then his eyes open.
They're luminous. Shining with emotion. You can't breathe, can't even blink, can only just barely feel him shift, reminding you he's buried deep.
"I miss you so much." His hands are gentle, smoothing your hair back and cradling your cheeks. There's the reverence you remember.
"I'm right here." Your vision blurs and his lips are on yours, tender where they'd been rough before. "I'm right here, baby."
"Can't lose you," he mumbles, shifting again, his arm winding around your waist and holding you close. "Can't lose you again, baby, okay?"
You whisper his name, unsure of what to say. You're not sure you understand. "Lan?"
He kisses you again, turning and you're floating even after he lays you down on the bed. Each touch is gentle, like he's afraid of hurting you.
As though you're a dream he doesn't want to wake up from.
"I love you," he says. And for the first time since he stepped into the house it's the voice you remember. Clear and bright, warm and your favorite sound. It's him, the real Lando that you know and love.
Your lips part to say the words back – of course you love him, you've loved him since the beginning, before he was yours to really love. Before he was your forbidden secret.
"I bought the villa." Even he looks surprise as the words pass his lips and there's a small smile on his face and you want to laugh at the absurdity of the moment. He's talking as though he isn't inside you, as though he didn't just make you cum against your bedroom door.
"You did?" you ask softly, fingers following the freckles splattered over his cheek and neck. "When?"
Lando shifts, gently guiding your legs around his waist. The friction causes your toes to curl and he pauses, stuttering out a whimper. "F-first of the – god – year."
"Do you like it?" You're asking about the villa, remembering the photos he'd showed you on the realty website.
"Fuck I love it so much," he moans. His hands squeeze your thighs and he lifts himself up slightly, licking his lips slow. Eyes still luminous, he looks down at you and you can feel he's holding his breath.
"I love you," you whisper. "I love you so much."
And it's like that's all he needed. He leans down, kissing you deeply, his hands finding yours and holding on, fingers tangled as he rolls his hips slow. His thrusts are slow and deep, echoing moans and gasps the soundtrack to the passion. There's no subdued rage or cruelty anymore, and you whisper apologies between kisses, needing him to know how sorry you are for hurting him.
"I'm so sorry… I love you… Love us." You whisper the words over and over, tasting the salt of his fresh tears and yours.
Clasped hands tighten, knuckles turning white. "Be mine," he murmurs, his tremble rippling through you. When you arch, crying out yes, he dips his head, pressing sweet kisses over your heart.
"I always was," you promise, eyes locked with his as the passion crests and you cum with a scream of his name. It's blinding, deafening, and all you know that is real is the tight grip of his hands.
"Get your degree," he murmurs an eternity later. You nod, heart racing, the ache that has been in your chest for so long begins to fade. "Move in the villa with me."
"What if it's doomed?" you whisper, fear slicing through the elation. "What if we fail?"
"W-what if we win?" His breath stutters harshly, hands squeezing yours even tighter. "What if it's sacred?"
He kisses you, both of you trembling as his thrusts quicken and you feel his muscles grow tight. Your name is a soft, pleading cry and you feel the heat of him filling you, hips straining and pushing you deeper into the mattress.
Another lifetime passes with delicate kisses. Tender whispers. Praise and love are murmured between you, and you feel the eternal hope springing back when he offers forgiveness.
If it's all a dream you never want to wake. You'll gladly sleep until your final breath or even hasten your end so you never have to know cold reality again. But it's not a dream when you wake up, it's real and he's real, and the love in his eyes is still there.
The peace, the dreamy bubble formed around you, is burst by a gentle tapping at the bedroom door.
"Um… You good, mate?" Oscar calls out, his voice amused and embarrassed.
Lando giggles against your shoulder, kissing your skin before lifting his head. "Are we good, love?"
"Can we get a dog?" you ask suddenly.
"Just one?"
You nod. "To keep me company while I'm studying."
Lando grins, dipping to kiss you quickly. "All good, Osco!"
"Thank fucking christ," Oscar groans..
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a.n.: originally this was close to 9k, but I cut a full scene from the end, because these two idiots deserve a happy, hopeful ending. I hope you enjoyed. housekeeping: if you'd like to be added to my taglist(s), please fill out this form.
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taglist: @driverlando | @leodette | @trisharee | @manicpixiemom | @littlegrapejuice | @mochimommy2002 |
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oddeyevibes · 1 year ago
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MK1 flirty Intros w/ Pro-Wrestler!Reader
(Featuring: Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Raiden, Sindel, Kenshi)
Notes: Was lowkey basing reader off of Tina Armstrong from DOA. Reader and Johnny know each other because Reader’s success as a wrestler had them cameo in one of Johnny’s movies. One of Liu Kang’s champions.
Johnny Cage 🕶️
Johnny: Whatcha gonna do when Cageamania runs WILD on you?! 😎
Y/N: And this is why I didn’t come back for Ninja Mime 2 🙄
Johnny: I would love for you to be the Ms/Mr L/N to my Johnny Savage 🥴
Y/N: Why can’t you ask me out like a normal person? 😒
Johnny: How much for your championship belt?
Y/N: Come back when you survive Tommy the Hun. 😤
Y/N: You would NEVER last in MY ring, pretty boy. 🥱
Johnny: So you DO think I’m pretty. 😏
Y/N: Cage you have got to stop the wrestling puns.😒
Johnny: Don’t act like they’re not making you chuckle, tiger 🥴
Johnny: You know, I AM a bachelor again. 😏
Y/N: Hmm…but are you a suitable one? 🤔
Kung Lao 🎓
Kung Lao: My fighting prowess vs your circus act. 😏
Y/N: Lao have you ever been on the receiving end of a Crossface? 😤
Y/N: Are all farm boys as cute as you. 🥰
Kung Lao: *chuckles* No, I’m one of a kind. 😘
Kung Lao: I had heard wrestling was fake but that exploding barbed wire match was too brutal! 😨
Y/N: *laughs* Aww, look at you all worried. 🥰
Y/N: Y’know…I think I’d look good in your hat…and nothing else. 😉
Kung Lao: Hm?🤨….Oh!😐 Ohhhhh…😳
Kung Lao: After this match, you HAVE to meet Madam Bo! 😃
Y/N: Already taking me to meet your mother figure, are you? 😏
Y/N: Farm boy, huh? You must be good with your hands. 😏
Kung Lao: I’d like to think so.🥴
Raiden ⚡️
Y/N: My eyes are up here, Raiden. 🤭
Raiden: Yes!😳 I apologize!
Y/N: Y’know, I’m a sucker for farm boys.
Raiden: *tries to hide his blushing*
Raiden: It’s amazing how quick you initiate those holds.
Y/N: Thanks. I can show you a few if you want…privately of course.
Raiden: What did Madame Bo pull you aside for?🤨
Y/N: Oh you know…the usual…thinly veiled threats about what would happen if I broke your heart….maybe not so thin.
Kenshi🗡️
Kenshi: What do you see in Cage as a friend? 🤨
Y/N: He grows on you, trust me. ☺️
Kenshi: I’m not someone you should get involved with. 😔
Y/N: I know how to handle wise guys, Kenshi.
Y/N: I should’ve done more to protect you. 🥺
Kenshi: You cannot blame yourself for this, Y/N.
Kenshi: I caught one of your matches when you were in Japan. You’re technicality is impressive.
Y/N: Oh! 😯 Thank you! 😊
Kenshi: How did you get roped up into that Ninja Mime cameo?
Y/N: *groan* It was a favor to Cris.
Y/N: Sento doesn’t watch…does it?
Kenshi: I…..hadn’t thought of that.
Sindel 🔊
Sindel: Wrestling is a revered art form in Outworld. What about Earthrealm?
Y/N: Depends on your definition of revered. 😅
Sindel: Can you keep up?
Y/N: I won’t lose my breath, Empress.
Sindel: So already a champion? Interesting.
Y/N: Yeah, it’s not the same as Earthrealm champion but..yeah~🥰
Y/N: So Li Mei is…..👀
Sindel: *chuckles* it’s feels nice to have someone be jealous over me again. 🥰
Y/N: So how much work is there being a consort?
Sindel: About as much as being the Empress.
Y/N: Will Mileena and Kitana think this weird? 🥺
Sindel: They will come to love you, dearest. 🥰
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months ago
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AITA for not wanting my autistic cousin to watch movies with me?
I (19F) have a younger cousin, Nancy (17F, not real name) who is autistic. She and her parents live with my family since they had to leave their house cause it got destroyed in a fire. Nancy's mom always asks me to bring Nancy along when I go out to hang out with friends eventhough my brothers, Dan (16) and Ben (16) offer to spend time with her at home. My aunt insists that Nancy spend time with me so that she doesn't copy Dan and Ben's bad behavior (it is just playing video games).
So I always get stuck with Nancy. When she sees me going out, she says "Are you hanging out with my friends without me?" Which is... no? They are my friends (Tiff, Jenn, Ann, Lisa), not hers. They had said they don't really like spending time with her, but my aunt gets upset at them for saying that and pays them to spend time with Nancy.
Whenever we go to the movies, it has to be what Nancy would want to see. It can't be anything scary because "Nancy will have nightmares." My aunt got upset at me for complaining about this.
Nancy always insists on sitting between me and my friends. looks something like this:
Me - Nancy - Tiff - Jenn - Ann - Lisa
I had tried on the other side of Lisa before, but Nancy would get all fidgety and make a bit of a scene during the movie by vocally complaining. We almost got kicked out cause some people complained we were making "too much noise." I get I was breaking the routine Nancy was used to by sitting by Lisa, but I wanted to sit by one of my friends. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal to just change up the seating arrangement once. And before anyone asks, no, I did not ask Nancy if it would be okay to change up seating arrangement beforehand. We just decided to do it suddenly.
But back to what I was saying. I was starting to get annoyed cause Nancy would always get in the way of the plans we wanted to do. So I secretly planned with Tiff, Jenn, Ann, and Lisa that we would go to the movies without Nancy. Ben and Dan had agreed that they would keep her busy at home and suggested that we say we were going to go to the beach since Nancy doesn't like the beach. Sand makes her feel icky. So that is what we did.
Unfortunately, my aunt found out we all lied and so had Nancy. She was distraught over this and locked herself in her room. She refused to come out to eat for 3 days straight. My aunt said I should apology and take Nancy to the movies with "her friends." I said that Tiff, Jenn, Ann, and Lisa were my friends. But my aunt got more annoyed and called me a selfish jerk for taking away Nancy's friends. My uncle, who normally tries to be fair about things, sided with my aunt and said I was being selfish and needed to apologize. Even my mom and dad are agreeing with them and threatened to kick me out if I don't apologize to Nancy. Dan and Ben are the only ones aside from my friends that are supporting me. I am thinking I should give in and apologize. I'm not sure where I could stay if they do kick me out.
AITA for not wanting her to join me for movies?
What are these acronyms?
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ridiculousn3sswrites · 5 months ago
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Lie to Me
*Dick Grayson (Nightwing) x Reader
*Summary: Reader can't ignore her boyfriend's weird behavior anymore. What she can do is delude herself into thinking everything is okay and still believe his lies.
*Warnings: Swearing, drinking, inferred cheating (no actual cheating), light angst. I think that's it, but let me know if I missed anything.
*A/N: So I listened to Lie to Me by Ne-Yo a lot while writing this. A bit of a life update here: I'm about to start my last year of law school! It's crazy to think I started writing fanfics when I was just about to start high school and now here I am. Anyways, hope you guys like this one!
Tip Jar
**********
There was something weird going on with your boyfriend. Sure, there had been his odd little quirks when you’d visited him before - like rushing to pick up only one bundle of clothes on the floor when you came in - but things really seemed to ramp up when you moved in with him. There were times when the two of you would be relaxing before bed, when he’d get a phone call and then be rushing out the door with a half-baked excuse. There would be times when you’d wake up to him leaving in the middle of the night, or coming back right before your alarm was supposed to go off for work. Maybe it was weird, but he was a cop, right? Maybe there were just emergencies he was needed for, maybe there were things he couldn’t talk about with you.
Maybe you were a fool.
You couldn’t exactly pin when the insecurity started really hitting you, but maybe it was the fact that you lived with him that made it really noticeable. When you brought it up to your friends, you got those knowing little pitying looks that you knew what they meant, but they didn’t want to say it out loud. The most you would get out of your friends was ‘talk to him’, but how could you talk to him when you were convinced you were making a big deal out of nothing?
The two of you were cuddled on the couch, watching a movie to round out a long awaited date night. You were enjoying the proximity, work really taking you through the wringer for the past week and you just needed this. About halfway through the movie, you could feel the vibrations from Dick’s phone ringing. He took a glance at the screen before sending it to voicemail. You looked up at him, but he just shook his head. “It’s not important.”
But apparently it was, because whoever it was called him three more times before he finally got up to answer the phone. That took you back a bit, because he normally was fine taking work calls in front of you. When he had been gone for a few minutes, you paused the movie and got up to go check on him. The door to your bedroom was cracked open, and you could hear Dick’s whispers to the person on the other side of the call. “Listen, I can’t go. I promised her I’d spend the night with her.”
You didn’t want to interrupt, so you just sat there, waiting for him. You felt a little weird listening in, but there was something in you telling you to stay. 
“Babs, you know I normally would, but-” Dick’s sentence was cut off, but after a few seconds he spoke again. “Alright, fine, I’ll be there. I’ll just make something up again.”
You could hear Dick’s groan of frustration, and that snapped you out of it before you could spiral. You made your way back to your spot on the couch, eyes unfocused on the movie in front of you. Dick’s footsteps were your cue to look up, trying to hide any signs of your heartache. “So what was that?”
“I’m sorry, baby, they just made an arrest for a case I’m on,” Dick apologized, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. It just broke you even more knowing how easily the lies spilled from his lips, not even needing time to think about it.
“They can’t handle it?” You slipped up, unable to hide your attitude for the second. You grimaced, realizing you should have waited until he was gone and you had room to process everything on your own. Instead, Dick was now moving in front of you, kneeling so he could be face-level with you. The concern was so quickly painted on his face that you couldn’t help but feel that little tug in you. You were the reason he was worried. You needed to fix it.
“I’m really sorry, I tried to get out of it but they really need me to come in.” You looked away from his intense gaze, trying to will away the tears that were threatening to build up. “Baby, c’mon, what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. You should go before you get in trouble,” you told him in a small voice.
“Please look at me?” Dick practically pleaded, placing his hand on your knee. You forced yourself to meet his blue eyes, trying to soothe his worry. The sooner he was out of the apartment, the sooner you could let yourself fall apart.
“Sorry, it’s just been a while since we’ve been able to hang out and I was looking forward to it,” you told him, placing your hand over his. “I know your job’s important, you should get going.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay? I love you.”
“I love you too.” As soon as Dick was satisfied that you were okay, he went about grabbing his things for work. When the front door closed behind him, you let out a deep sigh. You knew who Barbara was, and you’d already gone through your fit of insecurity about her when you and Dick first got together. You knew her and Dick had been an item for a while before the two of you had met, and things ended when he moved to Blüdhaven.
Dick had been so good at soothing your worries, always letting you know if she was going to be at the same events as him (she normally was) or what they were chatting about since they were still friends. You weren’t personally friends with her, but when you finally met her, she had really eased all your worries. She just seemed like such a good person, and she immediately put you at ease. But now you couldn’t help but think it was all for show. 
It wasn’t unusual for Barbara to randomly call Dick, but why was she so insistent that he go to her right now? What did Dick mean by make something up again? Was every work emergency a lie? Your heart felt heavy in your chest, but you couldn’t find it in you to move or find something to distract yourself with. You laid on your side, the movie still playing on the television in front of you, but you didn’t care about it anymore. Eventually the movie ended, but you didn’t care enough to change it to something else. The recommended titles screen played trailers for movies you didn’t care about, but you didn’t need the apartment to be completely silent, so you didn’t bother to turn it off. 
You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up the next morning with Dick’s arm around your waist, his deep breaths fanning over the back of your neck. He must have carried you back to the bed whenever he got back, and you felt the warmth creeping into your cheeks at his thoughtfulness. If you woke him up, you’d have to ask questions about what time he got in last night. Technically, all you had right now were suspicions. You could ignore them, turn a blind eye to his nights gone and enjoy when he was here, or you could confront him, and risk blowing up everything you’d come to love. If he continued lying to you, you could pretend you didn’t know. You felt his arm tighten around you, and you made your decision. You closed your eyes, trying to will yourself back to sleep. You would enjoy this while you had it, ignore what you knew. 
**********
It was nice to pretend nothing was wrong. Dick was still the nearly perfect boyfriend he had always been - bringing you little surprises after a rough day at work, showing you plenty of affection, never afraid to shower you with words of affirmation - and now you chose not to question the not-so-perfect parts. There was still the little ache when Dick would suddenly announce he was needed at work, but you just gave him a soft smile and a kiss on his way out the door, telling him to get home safely.
Things had gone like that for a couple months before a true challenge to your delusion appeared. Dick came home from work, letting you know that the two of you were invited to Bruce’s for (yet another) Wayne Foundation event. You had to admit that you were excited, it had been a while since you had seen everyone, and Dick’s brothers were just chaotic enough to keep you entertained for the whole night. Your excitement dipped a little when Dick told you Barbara would also be there. It was easy to pretend they didn’t have anything going on when she lived in a different city, but with the two of them in the same room, seeing the two of them together, you didn’t know just how long you’d be able to hold onto your delusion.
The first night you were there was nice. It was just you and the various Wayne children (though some of them weren’t necessarily children anymore), everyone joking around and just enjoying being in the same house. When you went to call it a night, tired from traveling and the general chaos of the Wayne household, Dick followed you up. 
“I forgot how wild you all are,” you joked, changing into your pajamas, which was just one of Dick’s shirts and a pair of shorts.
“Yeah, you know how it gets when all of us are together,” Dick laughed. “I’m glad you’re having fun, you’ve been kind of off for a while.”
That made you pause. You thought you’d been doing a good job at hiding what you knew, but maybe that was just more of your own delusions. “What?”
“Yeah, you’ve just been a bit off, but I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready,” Dick explained, taking you in his arms. “I’m here for you, you know. I’m not gonna make you tell me what’s wrong, but I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk about it.”
Your breath hitched at his reassurances, and you were sure that any other time it would have made you melt and just tell him what’s on your mind. But you couldn’t exactly share what was wrong when he was at the center of it. Without him confirming it, it didn’t have to be true, and you could pretend just a little longer. You stayed quiet, needing that peace for now.
Later that night, when Dick moved you out of his arms when he was sure you were asleep, you woke up the slightest bit. You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t say anything when you felt him leave the bed, or when you heard the door close behind him. It wasn’t until he’d been gone for a good while that you accepted he wasn’t going to come back until the early hours of the morning. When the tears built up, you didn’t stop them from falling, soaking the pillowcase beside you. 
You didn’t question where he’d gone when you woke up the next morning to him climbing back into bed. You didn’t move when he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. But of course he noticed you were awake, and of course he couldn’t just stay quiet like you had. “Baby, it’s early. C’mon, let’s go back to sleep.”
Going through the motions was easy, but the others noticed something was off about you. You could tell it in the way they treated you like you were one wrong move from breaking, and they weren’t technically wrong. The only ones not handling you with caution were Damian and Jason, but they normally weren’t ones to handle you with too much care anyways. Luckily, there wasn’t much time to linger around the heavy weight in your heart with the time for the gala quickly approaching.
“Alright, what gives?” Jason asked, holding out a champagne glass to you. You jumped a little, startled out of your thoughts as you looked at Dick and Barbara across the room, laughing with each other.
“What?”
“You’re acting weird, what’s going on.” Jason didn’t give you any room to try to weasel your way out of the conversation, pinning you to the spot with his stare. Even though the two of you were decent enough friends, this whole issue was concerning his brother, so you’d rather not bring it up to him. Or anyone for that matter.
“It’s nothing, really-”
“Bullshit and we both know it. Now spill.” Damn Jason.
“I think I need to-”
“I think you need to tell me what’s going on. Spill.” Bastard.
“Okay, fine! Damn, you’re stubborn.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Alright. So, uh, what can you tell me about Dick and Barbara?” You immediately took a sip of the champagne, trying to hide your face.
“What?”
“You heard me.” “Yeah, but I thought you and Dick already talked about all that.”
“Humor me.”
“They dated in high school, but she works with us so we’re all pretty close to her,” Jason explained.
“Like she works at Wayne Enterprises?”
“Wait, he hasn’t told you?”
“Hasn’t told me what, Jason? Listen, I overheard him on a call with her a bit ago and then he made an excuse to go meet her. Can you just tell me if you know anything or not?”
“Listen, Dick’s a fucking idiot for going this long without telling you, but he’s not cheating on you if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Then what isn’t he telling me?”
“He’s your boyfriend, why don’t you just ask him?”
“He’s your brother, why don’t you just tell me if you know?” Jason laughed, taking a drink.
“Trust me, if I tell you, you won’t believe me. Just ask him before you drive yourself insane.” And just as quickly as he appeared, the man made his way back into the crowd, leaving you with your half drunk champagne and more questions than answers. But one thing was for certain, you couldn’t put this off for much longer, and if that meant breaking your illusion of a happy, perfect relationship, then so be it.
There was a certain lightness to knowing that, by the end of the night, you would have your answers. The facade you’d been putting on would finally fade away, and maybe you’d be able to breathe a little easier. When Dick returned to your side later that night, asking for a dance, he held you like you were precious, but not like you were broken. You would miss this.
The time wasn’t right until the last of the absurdly rich people were ushered into their cars, and you and the rest of the Wayne clan were returning to your rooms upstairs. Dick helped you out of your dress, pressing a kiss to the skin that was revealed to him, and it was all so tender that it made you want to cry. He passed you one of his t shirts to sleep in, and once you were dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, you took a deep breath.
“Hey, so uh, I think I’m ready to talk about what’s been going on,” you told him as he was about to turn off the light. Immediately he crossed the room, kneeling to look up at you.
“Okay, take all the time you need.”
“So, a while ago when we were watching a movie, you got up to take a call, and I kind of overheard it,” you started, trailing off. Dick squeezed your knee, encouraging you to continue. “I know you haven’t been leaving for work emergencies. If something’s wrong here, then could you at least tell me instead of running to Barbara in the middle of the night?”
You chanced a glance at your boyfriend’s face, and there was nothing there but confusion. Dick was a smart guy, but damn was he stupid.
“Could you please just tell me what’s going on?” you asked, pulling his hand from your knee and into your own. You could feel the tears building again, but ignored it for now. “I just can’t take anymore lies.”
“I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t know how you’d take it,” Dick started, pressing a kiss to your hand. “Please don’t cry, baby. I’m not cheating on you, not with Barbara, not with anyone.”
“Then why do you keep sneaking out? You’re gone all night, and it’s not work-”
“Get up, put on some pants. I wanna show you something.” The sudden decisiveness was jarring, especially with how Dick had been kneeling at your feet mere moments before.
“Like, real pants?” Dick just stared at you, and you had to blame it on the emotional whiplash you were currently going through. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you opted to grab a pair of sweats from the top of your bag. 
As soon as your slippers were on, Dick took your hand and led you through the halls of the manor. The place seemed so much lonelier when Bruce wasn’t hosting something, your footsteps echoing through the halls. You didn’t know the house well enough to know where exactly Dick was taking you, but eventually he stopped in the main hall.
“Alright, so what do you want to show me?” You asked, still trying to process what exactly was going on here. Surely the explanation couldn’t be so complicated as to have you running around the Wayne Manor.
“Wait just a second, I promise.” Dick turned to the grandfather clock, opening the glass door on its body and messing with something. Before you could ask what he was doing, he closed the door again and held up a finger for you to wait. A panel behind the grandfather clock opened, revealing a sleek elevator with blue lights accenting it. Before you could question it further, Dick pulled you into the elevator and pressed the button to start the descent.
“Rich people are so fucking weird, I swear,” you mumbled as the elevator just kept going down. “Dick, where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see in just a second.”
“That’s what you keep saying!” As if the world wanted to prove you to be an ass, the doors opened to reveal what you could describe as nothing other than a cave. Well, if a cave had very high-tech capabilities and various platforms showing off expensive equipment. “What the actual fuck?”
“So, uh, I wanted to tell you, but I also didn’t because it’s kind of weird and a little unbelievable,” Dick explained, once again taking you by the hand. Of course you recognized what this was, it was a little hard not to recognize something like the Batmobile. Your mind immediately scrambled for answers, but you couldn’t really rationalize all this the way you wanted to. It wasn’t until Dick stopped in front of the display cases of different suits that it fully sunk in.
“No fucking way.”
“Yeah. First things first, not Batman. But I think you can put together the fact that we live in Blüdhaven and-”
“You’re Nightwing.”
“Yeah. Listen, I’m really sorry I lied to you for so long, but I honestly thought I was keeping you safe and-”
“You’re an idiot,” you cut him off, not really meaning it. Well, you still kind of meant it. “I should’ve known there was no way you got that beat up from being a detective.”
Dick laughed, relief flooding his features. “Yeah, I’m not that bad at my day job.”
“So, that call with Barbara…”
“I was really trying to take the night off, but then Barbara got some information about a meeting happening that night and I had to go. I promise, she’s our informant and kind of runs a lot of things around here,” Dick explained. “It kind of works that I did the big reveal here. Showing you that locked trunk I have in the closet just doesn’t hit the same as coming here.”
“Yeah, I bet it doesn’t,” you agreed, laughing. You really didn’t know how to process the flood of emotions running through you, try as hard as you might. Of course you were a little miffed about the fact that Dick had been lying to you for years, but you also understood this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you could really be open about. You were still emotionally drained from all the turmoil you’d gone through lately, but mostly you were relieved. Your boyfriend hadn’t found someone else. You weren’t going to be left as an afterthought. Things were going to be (kind of) the same.
Except for the fact that now you knew your boyfriend wore spandex on a near nightly basis.
“I completely understand if you need some time to process all this, but if you still want me, I promise I’ll never hide something like this from you again.” Dick turned to face you fully, taking your hand in his and holding it to his chest. “I’ll do whatever I need to make it up to you, please, I love you.”
“Dick, the last thing I ever want to do is break up with you. That’s why it took me so long to say something in the first place. I was willing to look past it all if it meant that you stayed, and if that makes me stupid, then yeah, I’m stupid.” You were glad when Dick interrupted you by pulling you into him, pressing his lips to yours.
Just as you were taking the time to enjoy the kiss, you heard a wolf whistle coming from somewhere else in the cave. “It’s about damn time you told her, but could you not do that right in front of the suits?”
Fucking Jason. 
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starlightnorris · 1 year ago
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tell me you love me - lando norris
just a short little friends to lovers blurb w lando
wc: 551
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lando: where are you?
lando: y/n???
lando: please, y/n you’re scaring me
lando: please pick up the phone
y/n: lan, i’m fine please relax
y/n: i’ll be over in a minute
you stared at the text messages from lando, your heart racing as you tried to figure out how to talk to him. he was your best friend, the person you grew up with, the person who you’d always gone to with all your problems, but now, you knew your feelings for him were progressing way past what was normal. so here you were, hours late from when you said you would be over at his place for the movie night the two of you had planned.
“y/n, what the fuck. where were you?” lando says the moment he opens the door. his arms wrap around you tightly, the contact making you flinch. you’d hugged him countless times before, but you knew that you were about to ruin the friendship that had been a main source of joy for you over the past 15 years. “you scared me, i thought you got in an accident or something. are you okay?”
a soft laugh fell from your lips at his rambling, but your heart was racing as you took in his panicked expression. “i’m fine, i just lost track of time.” lies.
“are you okay? no offense, but you look like hell,” he says, a teasing grin on his face that quickly falls away when he realizes that you’re not laughing.  
“i feel like hell,” you mumble, staring at your hands as you continue to stand in the doorway.
as if he read your mind, he gently grabs your arm, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you. “do you want to talk about it?”
this was your moment to confess your feelings, but as you stepped inside, you wanted nothing more than to just go about your day as if nothing had changed. but that wasn’t fair to either of you. he deserved to know how you felt, even if meant potentially ruining a friendship that had been a lifeline for you.
he continues to look at you, his expression soft as his eyes trace over your features. “what’s wrong?” his voice is so soft that it nearly rips your heart out, the care for you evident in his tone.
“i-“ you start, letting out a nervous laugh. “i’m in love with you lando.” your words are so rushed and you’re not even sure he hears you because he just stares at you, a soft look in his eyes. “i understand if you don’t feel the same way. it’s not really fair for me to spring this on you when-“
“y/n,” he says quickly, cutting off your words. “if you would stop talking for 5 seconds, i could say that i have felt the same way forever.”
“what?”
“i’ve been in love with you for years,” he says, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you.
“lando norris, i swear if you’re lying to me, i am going to kick your ass,” you say, and he just laughs, moving closer to you and resting his hands on your waist.
“no lies here,” he says softly before moving to place his lips over yours. “i have and will always love you.”
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oweninadaydream · 8 months ago
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𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧!𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Steve and you interrupt your lazy afternoon to discuss a very serious (or is it?) matter...
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Modern!Steve Harrington x fem!reader
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : pregnant!reader, established relationship, just pure fluff
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 777
𝐚/𝐧 : I had lots of fun writing this at like 2 am lol. Hope you enjoy it! ☺️💐
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Steve was in the kitchen, trying to cook dinner as fast as he could before your cravings had the chance to change and make you suddenly disgusted just by the smell of what he had been preparing for more than an hour. Today's delicatessen consisted of Hawaiian pizza with a side of pickles.
Normally, you would hate pineapple on pizza (you just can't stand mixing sweet and salty like that) and your hatred for pickles was known by all of your friends (specially by Robin, who had to hold up your hair as you vomited because she once gave you a bite of her sandwich which happened to contain the infamous ingredient), but your boyfriend wasn't willing to contradict his pregnant girlfriend who was extremely sensitive.
He was pulled out of his thoughts after hearing you call his name. "What's up, sweetheart? Everything okay?" he asked from his position.
"We need to have a very serious talk right now" you answered in a monotonous tone.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the end of Steve Harrington. After he felt that his heart had started pumping blood again, he hurried to the living-room where you had been chilling for most of the afternoon. You looked fine, there was nothing on fire and your stomach seemed as round as the last time he had seen it, so what was going on?
"Go on, I'm listening love" he encouraged you to begin revealing your thoughts.
"The baby is due in a couple of weeks and we haven't even decided which movies they're gonna watch in English and which ones in Spanish" the stress in your voice was easy to detect. Steve looked you straight in the eyes and he could swear that he had fallen in love with you all over again in that very instant. How could you be so adorable?
"Oh honey, I love you so so much" he cooed while leaving small kisses all over your face "we can discuss it now while the pizza is in the oven if you'd like" he offered.
Your native tongue was Spanish and ever since Steve and you started thinking about having children, you had known you'd raise your kids to be bilingual "They will not be no sabo kids, not on my watch".
Steve was more than thrilled at the thought of mini versions of you and him walking around, babbling in some strange form of spanglish. He had taken up Spanish after meeting you, and even though he was not the fastest learner, his disposition had taken him very far in his journey to be closer to you through language.
"Okay, so do you have any ideas?" he asked "Actually, yes I do" you quickly changed your expression to show enthusiasm "I've got a mental list of some non-negotiables. First, Enredados"
Steve hummed in acknowledgment as he had already guessed you would say Tangled, your mom's favorite Disney movie. Your mother didn't understand much English so this was a logical choice, as she wanted to watch the film with her grandchild and bond over it.
"Then, we've got Tarzan" "Tarzan?! The guy that sings the songs in the Spanish version is the same guy as in the English one, Phil Collins's accent is obvious. Also, y'know, it was my favorite movie as a kid" he tried to argue in a calm manner "...Well, I guess you're right. They can watch that one in the original version" One point to Harrington.
"What if you suggest one? I wouldn't want to impose" you commented. "Don't worry cielo, you keep going and I'll think of one or two more for me to choose" the fact that the first words he learnt were the pet names you liked the most was just one of the many proofs of his love for you " All right!!! So I had thought about El Rey León, Tiana y el sapo, Bichos, Aladdín..." you then proceeded to list almost every animated Disney movie. Steve could have stopped you at any point but the enamored haze clouding his thinking process wanted to indulge in your every desire.
The oven started beeping, alerting both Steve and you that dinner was officially ready. "Let's go, it's time for dinner" "But, what about the movies?" you pouted "Mi amor, we can do whatever you want in regards to our child's cinematic experience" "The bedtime stories can be in English, your dramatic interpretation of The three little pigs will impress them for sure" you suggested after realizing that you had monopolized the whole Disney films industry and feeling bad about it "Thank you, darling. Practice makes perfect"
Happy girlfriend, happy life, right?
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P.D : Phil Collins ate and left no crumbs in the Spanish soundtrack, we appreciate him in this house !!!
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skeedelvee · 4 months ago
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Ayy! I'm finally trying one of these! Thank you everyone that's tagged me in theirs in the past, I always like getting the notifications so I can check out all of your wonderful WIPs! <3
Doing a few WIPs since I've got a bunch going and I've gotten interest in a few.
First up is Second Moon! This is a sequel to my fic First Moon in which Simon is experiencing his first time transforming into a were-dragon. These fics are inspired by @frjsti 's amazing artwork! The sequel is about his 2nd time transforming and how Simon and Baz handle it differently now they know what they're in for and they've had time to prep for and crave certain fantasies for the next full moon. Here's a snippet of them discussing Baz wanting to bottom this time around:
He’s got his academic face on, as if we were talking about the merits of some new magical theory and not him taking my foot long dragon cock up his arse. “Still, there's a lot of risk involved in this. Even if I don’t destroy your arse, there’s still my claws and my fire breath to worry about. It’s a bit dangerous, innit?” “I thought you were the one to always face danger head on.” “I am, but this really isn’t about me.” “Isn’t it? Listen. If you really don’t want to do this, I won’t press for it, but it’s what I want and I’m not afraid of what might happen. I trust you.” I mull it over for a moment before he adds: “And if you do manage to kill me, please make sure my headstone reads ‘Here lies Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. He died doing what he loved: getting railed by Simon Snow’s monster cock.” I snort. “Your father would have my head if I even suggested that.” “Then I’ll have to have it written up in an official will,” he says with a smile. “What will it be then, Snow? Do you want this?” There’s no point lying about it. “Yes. I want it. I want you. You have to promise me though, that you won’t let me hurt you. Don’t muscle through it for my sake. Say your safe word as soon as things turn bad.” “I promise, Simon.”
@stitchy-queerista wanted to hear more about A Good High, so I'll do that one as well!
A Good High is a one shot non-magic college roommate AU where Shepard leaves a pot brownie for Simon on what he thinks is his desk, but is actually Baz's desk. Baz thinks it's a normal brownie from Simon, eats it and gets really high by accident. Simon gets back to the dorm, finds Baz in his current state and has to turn Baz's bad high into a good one. Here's a snippet:
“Have you seen Ratatouille?” I ask as I set up my laptop at the foot of the bed. Baz is hugging his knees to his chest, but he’s lost that panicked look in his eyes. They look sleepy instead, droopy and dark like they are first thing in the morning (it’s very distracting). “I have four younger siblings, of course I’ve seen Ratatouille.” “Right, of course. Well, it always helps me relax, so it might help you,” I say as I make a fluffy pile of pillows to collapse against. “Just try to focus on the movie for a bit and let it melt your anxieties away.” The movie plays and I sit back, kick my feet up, I get immersed in Remi’s story as a start to feel the gummy kick in. I’m so relaxed that I almost forget about how Baz was feeling, but as soon as I do remember, I can’t seem to think of anything else. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He’s watching the film and his breathing seems relaxed, but there’s something about his face that still looks raw, something about his posture that still seems on edge. I wish I could magically make this better for him. If he were anyone else I’d probably know what to do to cheer him up, but we’ve only just (kind of, sort of) started to get along. I don’t know if I’ve ever truly seen him relaxed before now that I think of it, he even looks tense while he sleeps. Maybe I should just ask him about what would help. “Psst, Baz, can I get you anything? Tea? Or a snack?” “No, I’m fine.” “A blanket?” “No.” He curls in on himself more and I mentally start kicking myself. Fuck, I’m making it worse. I wrack my brains for an idea to make this better, ignoring the little voice in my head telling me to leave well enough alone. Maybe if I got him to laugh that might get him out of this funk. “How about a cuddle then?” It was supposed to be a joke, but I can’t manage to laugh at it. My heart is beating out of my chest as the words leave my mouth. It’s a silly notion, the two of us cuddling, and I know it's something he’d never go for. And part of me is still hoping he’ll think it’s funny and he’ll break into a smile as he laughs it off, but the other part of me is desperate for him to say yes.
And @roomwithanopenfire wanted to hear about my untitled Gareth/Rhys fic, so I'll do that one too
This one is fairly new actually. It's kind of inspired by an outfit of mine actually. A lot of people who have met me IRL will probably have seen me in this, but I like to call it my Gareth as a slutty queer woman cosplay; a black crop top, black short shorts, and a brown belt with a white jaguar enamel belt buckle. I was wearing it recently and thinking about Gareth and thinking about a fem Gareth (I call her Gi in this) wielding the magic thrusting belt buckle, and then I started to write this. It's a getting together story about Gareth and Rhys with mutual pining. It starts with the two of them in their room, unpacking and settling into the space for their 8th year. Gi has her skirt tucked into her underpants and it's a whole thing for Rhys. Here's a snippet:
I can feel myself blush down to my toes. Thankfully, Gi discovers the state of her skirt and is distracted from seeing the full state of my complexion. “Has it been tucked in this whole time?” “Pretty much,” I wince. She snorts and then giggles as she unbuttons the thing and kicks it underneath her bed. I try to keep my eyes above her waist. “I hope my grandma saw. It’s what she deserves for insisting I ‘dress like a lady’ in her presence.” She’s stepping into her school trousers now, she has to do a little wiggle jump to get them over her thick thighs (it’s poetry in the making). “She has seen how you cast spells, right? Surely trousers should be the least of her worries.” “I wear the buckle as a bracelet when the old bat’s visiting. Mum says she has ‘a poor constitution’ and I’ll ‘send her to an early grave’ if I try thrusting spells around her.” Gi does a poor imitation of her mother’s voice, playing up the theatrics for my entertainment. I watch her as she lovingly threads her belt through each of the loops on her trousers, it’s like watching a superhero put on their suit for the very first time. She does a turn in front of the mirror, smiles at her reflection, and then shoots finger guns at herself. I can’t help but smile too. I’m so in love with her, it hurts.
And here’s my belt buckle that inspired this:
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I think most of you have already posted yours for the day, but I'll tag: @bookish-bogwitch @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @aristocratic-otter @roomwithanopenfire @stitchy-queerista @artsyunderstudy @noblecorgi @monbons @rimeswithpurple @ileadacharmedlife @facewithoutheart
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