#i don’t wanna go anywhere with you i got so many better things i wanna do…..

[unknownarmageddon]

I DIDNT DO ONE OF THESE? this is outrageous i thought i got through all of them

[madamechrissy]

Do I wanna know?

Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count

CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!

You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.

It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.

Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.

When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.

That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.

He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.

He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.

But not just yet.

Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.

Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.

Satoru can do that for you.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Why live here?”

You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”

“Don’t you make good money?”

“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.

“Failed? Didn’t pass?”

“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”

“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.

Satoru can make it happen, surely.

“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.

“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be…” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”

“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”

“What’re you asking, sweets?”

“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.

What’s wrong with you!?

“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.

“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.

“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”

Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”

“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”

Oh, he does.

He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.

Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.

“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.

“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.

So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.

Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.

Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.

You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.

Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.

Or will be.

Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?

You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.

Satoru: No problem, love.

Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.

Satoru Gojo, who was he really?

*****

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.

“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.

You’re such a good girl.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.

“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”

“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”

“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.

“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”

“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”

You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”

“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”

“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”

“Absolutely.”

You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.

“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.

“I know.”

*****

Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.

Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”

Fuck.

You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”

“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.

Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.

All you can think of is him.

Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.

He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.

He needs you to really need him.

“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.

He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.

He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”

“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”

“Mind somewhere?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.

Where are you?

He zooms in on the location.

Someone’s house?

Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”

“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”

“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”

“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.

“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.

“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.

You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?

“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.

“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”

“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.

“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.

“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.

“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.

“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.

Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?

Then why is there this gnawing feeling?

*****

The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.

You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”

“It’s an ancient relic?”

“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”

“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”

“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.

“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.

Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.

“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.

“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.

“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.

“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.

“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.

“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.

“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”

“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.

Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.

“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.

“Why not date him?”

“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.

“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.

*****

After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.

You’re wondering about lots of things.

“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.

“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”

“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.

“What’s that mean?”

“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”

“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”

Yes, yes it would.

“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.

“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”

“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”

He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”

Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”

“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”

“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”

“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”

You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.

He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.

But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?

That just won’t do.

He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.

Maybe a date with someone?

******

You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.

He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.

He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”

How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.

“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”

You know he knows.

You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”

Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”

“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”

“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”

“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.

“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”

“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.

“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”

“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”

“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”

“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.

You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.

“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.

“Of course, Satoru.”

“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”

He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.

You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.

The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.

Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?

Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.

Having fun on your date?

Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.

Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.

Satoru panics now.

What’s wrong?

He watches as you type.

I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…

Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”

“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?

“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”

“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”

“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”

He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”

Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”

“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”

“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”

Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.

His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”

“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.

“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”

“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.

“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”

“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”

“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”

The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.

“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.

“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”

“My what!?”

“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.

“Where are we going?”

“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”

“Slutty?”

“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.

“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”

“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.

“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.

“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”

He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.

“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.

“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.

“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”

Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.

He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”

You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.

“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”

You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.

“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”

“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.

Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.

He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.

“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..

“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.

“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”

Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”

You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.

“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.

“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.

You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.

“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”

“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.

“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”

“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.

“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.

“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.

“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”

“You wouldn’t come to me.”

Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.

“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”

Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.

“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.

“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”

You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.

“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”

“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.

“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”

“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.

“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”

You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.

“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”

Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.

“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.

“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.

“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”

He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”

“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”

“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.

“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”

After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…

You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.

But you feel deliciously fucked out.

You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?

“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.

“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.

“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 

“That sounds so…”

“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’

“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”

“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”

“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”

You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”

“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.

“Satoru…”

“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”

“Satoru!”

“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”

“I… you…”

“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”

“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”

“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”

You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.

He’s got you right where he wants.

And you both know you’re never leaving.

Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)

Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut

[ageofstarkey]

Hi! Could you write a Mattheo one, where it’s that time of the month, and you’re just really not feeling like facing the world.

poor thing ✰ m. riddle

summary: you’re on your period, and matthéo’s there to help you feel less awful.

pairing: bf!matthéo x reader

warnings: reader is implied to be afab, mentions of reader having their period, discussion of period-related symptoms, nothing else really???

note: hello!! thank you so much for the request!! i’m still trying to find my groove with writing, but i hope i did your prompt some justice :’) also pretend that boys can in fact enter the girls dorms in this universe lmfao

masterlist

comments & reblogs are so appreciated!

✰ ✰ ✰

“aren’t you getting up for potions?”

when you roll over, you see pansy watching you from the doorway. she’s dressed and ready for the day - book bag slung carefully across her body. she studies you with something akin to concern; awaiting your response with perfect, furrowed brows.

with a quiet sigh, you push yourself into a half-sitting position. “i don’t think so. i got my period last night and i feel absolutely horrid.”

“want me to tell riddle? i’m sure he’s looking for an excuse to skip anyway”

you roll your eyes fondly. “he’s already missed too many lessons this year - let him figure it out on his own time, yeah?”

pansy shrugs. “fine. hope you feel better.”

you groan, flopping none-too-gracefully back on your pillow. “me too.”

when pansy leaves, you take a few moments to savour the silence. it does little to ease the uncomfortable ache in your abdomen, but it’s quiet enough that you can almost pretend your head hasn’t been throbbing since the second you opened your eyes.

eventually, you snuggle back under your thick quilt, resigned to sleeping away your misery. it doesn’t take long for your fatigue to take over, pushing you steadily towards the edge of unconsciousness.

you’re nearly asleep, when you hear a sharp knock at the dormitory door. your brows tug downwards in confusion. with a quiet groan, you drag yourself out of bed. the floors are shockingly cold against your bare feet, and you curse quietly under your breath as you approach the door.

when you tug it open, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriends handsome face. although he should be in class, you can hardly fight the grin that tugs at your lips. “you are not supposed to be here.”

matthéo quirks an eyebrow, sporting a smirk you know all too well. “shall i see myself out then?”

you roll your eyes fondly. “no.”

“didn’t think so.” he lets himself in, kicking the door shut behind him. “do you wanna lay down?”

“merlin - more than anything.”

he tugs you gently towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss. “i figured as much.” he murmurs the words against your skin, punctuating them with another kiss. when he pulls away, he nudges you gently towards the bed. “how are you feeling?”

“awful.”

“cramps?” he shrugs off a few layers of clothing, before tugging back your quilt and laying on the bed.

with a gentle little tug, you’re falling into the empty space beside him. “my entire body just… aches.” with a defeated sigh, you drop your head on his chest.

matthéo hums softly, stroking a gentle hand up and down the length of your spine. “poor thing.”

“tell me about it.”

with a quiet little laugh, he tilts your head up towards his own. “do you think you’ll survive?”

“i really might not, théo. this might be it for me.”

matthéo rolls his eyes, but he wears a fond little smile that gives him away. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i am not!” your lips turn downwards in an involuntary pout. “it hurts.”

“i know, sweetheart.” he closes the small gap between you, kissing away your feeble little frown. “why don’t you try and get some rest, hm?”

“you’ll stay?”

he kisses you again - longer this time, and you swear you’re feeling better already. “‘m not going anywhere.”

[b38rman]

READ YOUR MIND ᯓ★ Ollie Bearman

tags - ollie bearman x afab!reader, friends to lovers, fluff, slight miscommunication, loosely inspired by the sabrina carpenter song of the same name

synopsis - This was definitely not on the marketing internship job offering for Prema Racing. You swore you had everything under control before this—before Ollie Bearman took up most of the weekend's agenda.

rating - teen and up readers

warnings - slightly suggestive ending

a/n - i wrote this before ollie was announced as a 2025 f1 driver and the slight implications of dread related to that uncertainty are littered throughout this work so just keep that in mind (or not) enjoy!

Thursday — Spain, 2024

The unmistakable sound of the hotel doorbell rang through your room. Admittedly, the best time to go to sleep had already passed you by at this point, considering the 7 AM lobby call time the team had for you. Unfortunately, the restlessness that could only be attributed to constant location changes seeped into your bones.

You got up, trying to dispell the feeling populating your gut. Perhaps, more than anything, it was the dull influx of certainty. You were still learning how to get used to this.

You opened the door slightly, just enough to see who was on the other side. 

“Took you long enough.” The familiar rumble of Ollie’s voice filled your ears, as he pushed his way into your bedroom.

At this point, you were 100% sure that any of this was not part of any of the contracts Prema made you sign when they offered you the internship. No matter how much you looked between the lines of wage and non-disclosures, you wouldn’t find what you and Ollie had anywhere.

It was just that it was becoming a routine at this point. From the beginning of the season, Ollie seemingly couldn’t find a better victim than you for his late night musings. You tried to gently reprimand him at first, telling him off about his bedtime and his racing and all of the things he’d scoff at you for and turn a stubbornly deaf ear towards.

Ollie rounded the room slowly, his white sleep shirt and flannel pajamas contrasting against your worn summer camp shirt and cotton shorts. You felt overexposed, as you always did in these situations. 

“Wanna play Mario Kart?” Ollie asked, mindlessly making his way to your side of the bed.

You thought about it for a second before responding, “Nope, too tired to be that stressed out.”

Ollie hummed in acknowledgment before laying back onto your bed, phone in hand, with his legs still dangling over the edge. He always took your side of the bed, despite it very obviously being rumpled and occupied.

You climbed onto the other side and tucked yourself in under the sheets. As if on instinct, Ollie moved his head upward, resting it on your stomach, before locking his phone and setting it on his chest. 

“I just feel a bit odd, you know? Like everyone says so many good things about me but really, I haven’t done anything.” He looked to the ceiling as he rambled. “I have another FP1 tomorrow and all I can think about is how I don’t know how to be what people want me to be. I don’t know how to keep being good, or how to really be good; will people even look back and think I was good?” 

“That’s some bad imposter syndrome you got there, huh?” You stretched your hand out and lightly laid it on his head, stretching your fingers against the expanse of brown waves. Ollie leaned into the touch, shutting his eyes.

“The only thing that should matter is who you want to be.” You grinned fondly at him, even if he couldn’t see it. “Besides, you’re way too young to be worrying stuff like that.”

“We’re the same age.” He opened his eyes just to look at you as he said that. 

“And do you see me worrying about my legacy?” You joked, earning a toothy smile and a roll of eyes from Ollie. 

At every moment you’ve spent with Ollie so far, he’s not felt like someone that appears on national television broadcasts or on carefully curated Pinterest boards. You could almost see yourself looking across the lecture hall, seeing him, and wondering if he was really paying attention or just browsing on his laptop.

Instead, he was one of the boys you’d keep track of social media appearances for. You managed his filming schedules for both long-form and short-form videos, and wove through seas of people and motorhomes with him to find a spot to record his little post-race briefs. You weren’t assigned to him specifically, but it usually was you and him most of the time.

“It’s, um, getting late.” You tried not to be too awkward about untangling your hand from Ollie’s hair. “I think you should get some rest.”

You waited for him to complete the final part of this routine you had going, wherein he’d sleepily walk to his own bedroom and you’d fall asleep in your own fully warmed bed. 

Except for the fact that he didn’t do that at all. 

“Could I just stay here? I don’t really want to be alone right now.” You felt Ollie shift ever so slightly from where he was, head still resting on you.

Questions on professionality and ethics rang through your mind one after another. 

“Are you sure?” Was all you could muster. 

Ollie seemed to recognize your concern without you voicing it. After all, you weren’t particularly discreet about any of it. 

“I’ll just wake up earlier, it’ll be fine.” He finally raised his head and began setting an alarm for five in the morning. Part of you knew it was futile. Considering everything, it was a bold move, considering that it was just past midnight.

You watched him mindlessly, as he turned all the lights off, only leaving the light from the bathroom peaking out through a slight opening in its door. For a moment, you let yourself think of a time and place where this was a normal occurrence—one where him curling up in bed next to you in near complete darkness felt like a grounding force instead of a guilt-inducing one.

You turned to face away from where he was laying, opting to try and not make this any weirder than it could be. 

“Good night.” He said regardless. “Sweet dreams.” He said, in a softer voice, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear him. 

You could feel his body near yours, almost as if the full size bed was too cramped for the two of you. 

“Sweet dreams, Ollie.” You replied.

You felt him roll over to his back as you drifted off to sleep. 

Friday

Your eyes shot open at the sound of an iPhone alarm going off, obviously being the one Ollie set a few hours prior. What you didn’t immediately process was the arm wrapped around your waist, and the soft snores coming from the face that was nuzzled into your hair. Your heart was pounding. 

“Ollie,” You lightly shook the arm that was over you. “Ollie, wake up.”

You were only met with a long grunt and a tightened grip.

“Ollie, please, come on.” You tried sitting up to give him a bit more of a hint, displacing his arm on you.

Finally, he rolled over, turning off his alarm. The sun was barely out yet, and you saw him squinting at you through his sleepy eyes. 

“I don’t want to go.” He said softly and groggily, toying with a loose string on your worn shirt. 

“You have to.” You replied with every ounce of control in your body.

Ollie grunted faintly before stretching his arms over his head, silently sitting up and making his way out of the door as quickly as he came through it. 

Everything kept moving into the next day. You’d comprehensively briefed Kimi in the morning on his share of marketing activities over breakfast and sneaked some Live at Prema footage here and there, with Ollie notably paying less attention and getting called by some F1 media members midway. 

The constant elephant in the room was the tinge of disappointment the team felt due to Ollie’s slightly lackluster feeder performances in direct comparison to all of the F1 hype surrounding him, which no amount of sarcastic humor from the team could conceal. 

Despite everything that happened the night prior, everything remained calm and professional (he barely acknowledged you outside of what he needed to do, which was both a relief and a punch to the gut). 

Between photoshoots and practice sessions, you’d spotted Ollie from afar. Barely anyone could get a hold of him after free practice, as he was justifiably rushing between garages. 

He was up and down the paddock clad in his black Haas shirt, clearly moving with an air of confidence that filled your chest with something you couldn’t describe. This Ollie felt worlds away, which brought you as much joy and pride as it did a hint of melancholy. You were still figuring out what he was making you feel, but at times like this, he felt worlds away.

You were pulled away from your thoughts as quickly as they came to you, as you engrossed yourself in content with the F1 Academy drivers. When you weren’t doing that, you were organizing paperwork, analyzing metrics, and sifting through footage on your phone and camera.

The feeling you suppressed earlier only returned as the F1 cars hit the track. You thought about how near he felt at present, just at touching distance in the space between your hotel room and Grisignano de Zocco; but you also thought about how faraway everything would become after Prema, and how much you’d have to feel if you allowed yourself to let your guard down around Ollie.

After all, every sane racing driver would hope that feeder wouldn’t be forever. Deep inside you, though, you wished this feeling wouldn’t just be hidden in the footnotes of what would become Ollie’s career. Nevertheless, the sheer idea of wanting someone who was literally the face of a future generation of racing amidst the backdrop of him being capable of being wanted by every other person in the world felt incredibly absurd and daunting to say the least. 

(The two of you weren’t even anything. You weren’t really sure about these thoughts.)

After your rumination and the inevitable conclusion of the free practice session, you continued your work as you were directed to. It was entirely a coincidence, though, that your next duties included bringing parts of Ollie’s race kit and his water to his area in the shared driver’s area in preparation for qualifying. As every internship went, you often had miscellaneous work to fulfill.

Kimi had already finished his personal preparations for qualifying, already looking over last minute data, while Ollie was running late due to his prior commitment. The air was undeniably stress-ridden, as your first real encounter of the race day with Ollie was him scrambling to get into his overalls and suit, but you set everything down calmly while pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“Was starting to think you didn’t miss me at all.” Ollie was the first to break the silence, imploring you to look up at him.

Warmth filled your body at his words. For a moment, you worried that he knew he had some type of effect on you, but you quickly pulled yourself together mentally. 

“One less person to persuade to listen to my content briefs.” You shrugged, smiling at him playfully, almost daring him to retaliate. 

As the rush caught up to both of you, the only cohesive answer to your banter that he gave you before exiting into the garage was a soft squeeze on your forearm. 

“We’re friends, right?” Ollie asked, already tucking himself into your bed without hesitation.

Once Ollie was done slumping over in qualifying debriefs with the team, he made his way to your room again. It was the same routine as last night, just with a lot less talking.

The thing is, you weren’t saying anything either. That in itself said a lot.

You looked at him, eyebrows scrunched together. “Yes?”

Well, you were sharing a bed, tucked under the same sheets, staring face to face at each other in the dim yellow light of your Barcelona hotel room. 

“Maybe? I don’t know, Ollie—“ You second-guessed for a moment before continuing, “—I’m literally an intern. We work together, technically.” 

Ollie’s face twisted into something unreadable. His eyes shifted to the side as he mouthed the word ‘technically’ under his breath. 

“I mean, I guess we could be friends if you want.” You followed up. God, you felt ridiculous for having a conversation that sounded like this. 

He took a breath, deep and slow. “I want a lot of things,”He answered.

Ollie looked at right you, eyes so big, bright, and endless.

“I know.” You replied impulsively, in a voice barely above a whisper. 

He got so dangerously close to you that you could feel the warmths of his breaths on your face. 

“You don’t.” The weight of his gaze felt like it was melting you from the inside out. “You really don’t.” 

Ollie closed the gap between the two of you, his dry lips engulfing yours for what felt like an eternity, despite it being maybe a five-second peck at most. When he pulled away, you were breathing like he’d taken all of the air out of your lungs just from the sheer pace your heart was beating at.

A look of uncertainty flashed across his almost annoyingly pretty face. The kiss was so sweet, and you hated to be the one to make him question himself.

“We shouldn’t.” You said in conjuction with your uncontrollable heartbeats and air-filled breaths. 

“Then tell me you don’t want this.” Ollie challenged, laying one calloused, warm hand on your cheek.

“Ollie—“ You tried to protest. Every logical part of your brain was telling you how wrong all of this was, and how stupid you were for letting this happen in the first place.

In spite of all that, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You couldn’t lie to him for the life of you. 

You wanted this so bad. All you could do was want.

You laid your cold hand atop the one cupping your face, and let yourself look back at the earnest look on his face. You felt overexposed, sensitive all over like you’d been put out in the sun for too long.

“Please.” You could barley manage words, but you finally let yourself lean into him to erase every seed of doubt planted in his mind. 

The movement of your lips against one another quickly turned hot and heavy, and you let Ollie take and take everything he could’ve wanted. His hand wandered down to your neck and achingly close to your chest, as his kisses migrated down to your neck.

“We—ah—we really shouldn’t be doing this,” You weakly attempted to be rational, even if your hand was tangled in his hair and heat was quickly pooling between your thighs.

In response, he dove right below your collar bone, beginning with a bite and continuing with not-so-subtly marking you there, coaxing a mix between a gasp, wimper, and a soft moan out of you. 

It was glaringly obvious that he didn’t care all that much.

[heliads]

Hellloooo!!! I don’t wanna add to your workload so if this just piles on, please delete it! 😅😊 I just had an idea for a newt x reader fic where they’re in an established relationship in the Glade and during a bonfire one night the boys all ask newt questions about what it’s like to date reader and how it feels and newt just answers with the upmost sweetness. Reader overhears and fluff ensues!!!!

fluff ensues has got to be one of my favorite plot descriptions. like yeah it absolutely will do that (and no worries, nothing will stop the workload from being! newt just helps make it better <3)

masterlist

Newt is aware that he is a little bit luckier than most. This is a sentiment that he never thought he’d be caught dead believing. Not in the Glade. Not in the Maze. Not anywhere in this surreal mess of a place. Yet it’s on repeat in his head on a day to day basis nonetheless, ticking off the hours like an alarm clock consisting solely of his blessings. 

Newt didn’t think he’d have that much to brag about. No memories means no history he can mention to his equally luckless friends. Still, he’s got one important victory in his life that no one else can even dream of, and that’s the fact that he’s dating Y/N. Yeah, that certainly sets him apart in the world of good things given to kids who can’t quite convince themselves they deserve them. 

Some would say that Newt is being a little dramatic. He would argue that his response is perfectly within reason. One girl has been sent up in all the months that anyone’s been in the Glade, one girl and one girl alone, and she just happened to choose him. Around here, that’s grounds for being nominated for sainthood. 

Newt isn’t going to act like he’s not just over the moon every time he thinks about the whole situation. Against all odds, Y/N fell in love with him. That’s so unreal that Newt has to pinch himself every hour on the hour just to make sure it isn’t a dream. He never tries too hard, though. Just in case. 

He didn’t have many thoughts on love before she came up. There wasn’t really time now, was there? It was just him and the scores of other stragglers making do in their bloody terrible world. You don’t spend much time lingering over potential sweethearts when the closest thing to a Romeo is Gally yelling at everyone in the Glade except his friends.

Not great dating material, to say the least. Even when Y/N came up that one month, though, he still hadn’t fallen for her from the start. He liked her, obviously, she was nice and didn’t test his patience, but he was perfectly content to keep her as a friend, just that. Great expectations have a way of letting you down. Newt’s learned that if you keep your eyes on the ground, stop looking up at the sun and stars, you’ll be able to deal with it a little easier when all your brightest aspirations go away.

He’d done that before and he planned on doing it again. Even as time passed and he realized that his heart had a funny way of speeding up whenever she was nearby, when it occurred to him that his daily routines always had a way of working in chances to see her, Newt forced himself to ignore everything. Maybe he liked the way the morning sunlight always played on Y/N’s face, maybe he could have spent hours wondering over the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs. It was nothing that he could ever commit to treasuring above anything else.

It took several rounds of self-talk and about a dozen different interventions staged by his friends for Newt to get up the courage to tell Y/N how he felt. Hell, it took at least half of those interventions for him to even admit how he felt to himself. Newt had been internalizing for so long that bringing some of those emotions to the forefront of his attention was damned near impossible. Minho, Alby, and a few others, however, were so sick of seeing him ‘mope around like a lovesick fool,’ to quote them specifically, that they were dedicated to the task of getting him in order.

It worked, too. Newt had run through what could have been a hundred speech variations in his head, all mentioning her character or her sense of humor or any one of the millions of things he liked about her best. In the end, he didn’t choose a single one. The second Newt pulled Y/N away from a crowd of their friends for ‘something he needed to say in private,’ every single whirlwind of thoughts storming through his head came to an abrupt stop. He totally blanked out. 

Newt wouldn’t even know that he managed to force any words out at all were it not for the fact that the effects of that interaction are quite obvious. Somehow, Y/N ended up returning his affections, and they’ve been doing pretty well ever since. Newt doesn’t like counting his eggs before they hatch and all that, but he’d go so far as to say that he doesn’t see it ever breaking down for quite some time, if ever. They’re alright. They’re great, and they’re happy, and in a place like this, you take that and run with it for as long as you can. Maybe it’ll ruin itself someday, but Newt plans on pushing that off to the distant future for forever and a day.

In the meantime, Newt gets to think about how lucky he is. Despite the fact that Y/N’s apparently been crushing on him for just as long as he started liking her, and despite the fact that Frypan proclaims on a daily basis that he’s never seen two shanks more alike, Newt still feels like all of this is just one great coincidence. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, but it did, and he’s going to love that and her for as long as he can.

She’s waiting for him now, he thinks. Work is over for the day, and there’s a Bonfire Night happening this evening too, courtesy of the shivering Greenie fresh out of the Box who still can’t seem to keep his shock from showing. The fool to whom this celebration is owed looks like he’s going to keel over, what from the way he keeps half doing a backbend from continually craning his neck up to stare at the Walls, but the rest of them can get drunk and fuck around and generally have a good time. 

Greenies never appreciate their Bonfire Nights enough anyway. It’s up to the rest of the Gladers to show them what it’s like to have fun. Who knows the next time they’ll be able to stop stressing over the ruins of their lives anyway? Newt’s heard half a dozen Gladers proclaim that they only live bonfire to bonfire anyway. They might as well prove it tonight.

Newt meets Y/N on the outskirts of the bonfire just as the dark starts to fall. Dusk kicks up its heels, keeping watch over the revels and hiding the sun, which can never bear to see whatever mistakes they’re going to make next. Y/N holds out a hand to him, one Newt gladly accepts.

“I can’t believe it’s been six months now since I first showed up,” she grins, gesturing towards the Box with her free hand, “Feels like just yesterday.”

Newt snorts. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh? Trust me, the Greenie Days get faster and faster. I swear I just finished touring the last kid, and now we’ve got another one to keep pestering us with questions.”

Y/N shakes her head, considering this. “Nah, I think this one will be better. He’s too scared to speak above a whisper. If you try, you can just ignore him.”

Newt chuckles. “I’m not supposed to be bullying the Greenies. Alby says I’m meant to set a good example.”

“I saw Alby telling Minho to trip the new kid to see if he’d finally make a sound if he bit the dirt,” Y/N comments, “I don’t think kindness is really in our books.”

Newt arches a brow. “I could see that happening. Did it work?”

“No,” Y/N says, disappointed, “Kid was so scared to move a muscle that he didn’t fall at all. Just kind of stopped walking like he’d hit a wall instead of Minho’s ankle.”

Newt tries to bite back a smile. He’s only half successful. “Shame. That would have been fun to see.”

Y/N laughs. “That’s what I said. Anyways, they’re all over there, near the fire. I think the next strategy is to give the kid some of Gally’s brew in the hopes that it’ll coax something out of him other than his dinner.”

Newt shudders. “Best of luck to him.”

“And to me,” Y/N replies, “I think I’m going to get a glass of my own. See you in a second.”

Newt waves a casual hand in goodbye, watching as his girlfriend weaves through the steadily forming crowds of Gladers in an attempt to track down a drink. He takes a seat near an overturned log, staring into the fire as it disappears into sparks. Six months since Y/N appeared in the Box, so it’s been indeed.

Newt can’t decide whether that feels like a long time or not nearly long enough. Y/N’s changed him in almost every way, that much is obvious. Sometimes, in meeting someone you know will impact you forever, you almost want them to have been around for much longer. Strangers aren’t meant to become your best friends, not until you’ve known them for years and you have scores of memories to share. You want to give them decades in your mind, centuries, as a sign that they’ve been so important to you. Mere months aren’t enough. Surely it should be more.

It isn’t, and maybe that’s for the best. Newt has no memories save for when he came up his own share of months ago. All his friends are new, all his enemies still more recent. Maybe the girl he loves has only been in his life for a short time, but his recorded life is short indeed. Everything is modern. That’s just how it is.

Newt becomes aware of eyes on him and realizes that he might not be the only one reminiscing about when Y/N came up in the maze. A few Gladers have come up by Newt’s side, steadily appearing out of the gloom and smoke to stare at him.

Newt glances at them questioningly, and a few moments later the bravest of them dares to voice their collective thoughts. “What’s it like dating Y/N?” The boy asks, “you know, since she’s the only girl?”

Newt smiles to himself. “It’s great,” he says.

This clearly isn’t the response the other boy wants. “Yeah,” he repeats, “but what’s it like? It’s not like the rest of us have our own girlfriends to compare it with.”

Newt bites back a laugh. “Well,” he begins, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that the other boys draw closer to him expectantly, “it’s like having a best friend, but even better. She’s someone I can talk to at any time, but I don’t have to worry about seeming uncool or weird around her. Y/N knows exactly who I am, the good and the bad, but she’s chosen to be with me anyway. It makes you feel like you can do anything.”

The boy nods, accepting this. “Are you ever worried that she’s going to get tired of you and leave you for someone else?”

“If you’re asking me if I’m worried about competition,” Newt says slowly, “I’d say, don’t think you even have a chance. She’s my girlfriend, you bloody shank, not some object you can steal away. Anyway, obviously I’d like it if she stayed with me a while longer, but I’m not scared, no. I know that we’re happy, and that’s enough.”

The boy’s face flushes scarlet when Newt calls him out, but he seems to have made his peace with it at the end. Newt’s half expecting more questions, but all of a sudden they scatter to the corners of the celebration. A few moments later, the cause of the disturbance becomes obvious:  Y/N herself takes a seat next to him, glass in hand.

“It seems like you had a score of admirers,” she says, lips twitching up into a smile.

Newt groans. “More like your admirers, trust me. They wanted to ask about what it was like to date you. Not something I thought I’d be discussing with the Slicers-in-training, but why not?”

Y/N laughs. “Oh, I know. I have to say, though, it was very sweet. Being with me makes you feel like you can do anything?”

Newt feels his entire face heat up, and he briefly ponders launching himself into the fire to escape it. “I didn’t realize you were eavesdropping. That’s rude, you know.”

Y/N just grins. “I do apologize. It was very sweet, though. I appreciated it.”

Newt rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep a smile off of his face for long. “Does that mean you won’t leave me for some random boy who showed up a few months ago?”

“I’ll consider it,” she assures him, “like you said, though, I wouldn’t worry much. I happen to like being with you quite a bit as well.”

Newt reaches over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder, and they stay there for quite some time, watching the embers of the fire curl into ribbons of smoke up in the darkest reaches of the sky. The bonfire dances, their friends shout and clap and laugh all around them, and through it, they keep going. All is well.

tmr tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope, @fadedver

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin��� just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

Duke meets Harold

Duke is in the bat cave like normal it’s a normal day, he’s usually not in the batcave during the day. But it’s quiet and he needs to look up something. All of a sudden he hears a noise and it’s coming from the bat mobile.

Duke: who- whose there?

the clanking and clanging of tools alerts duke to their position.

Duke: I SWEAR if it’s you joker I will BASH your head in with a crowbar

all of a sudden a short hunched man appears from behind the Batmobile.

Harold: *waves*

Duke: WHO ARE YOU

Harold: *shrug*

Duke: are- are you supposed to be here?? WHO ARE YOU???

Harold: *nods*

Duke: *thinks for a moment* wait can you talk?

Harold: *shakes his head no*

Duke: damn, wait you don’t have a AAC or something?

Harold: *shakes his head no*

Duke: I don’t think you’re a criminal or anything but we are going to go out and grab a AAC, it’s not fair for you man,

Then duke and Harold go out on the town to go find a AAC device after a few stops and a lot of calls later Duke and Harold return home and all the while Harold's been testing out the AAC.

Harold: *presses some buttons on the AAC and a computerised voice starts playing* Hi I am Harold

Duke: nice to meet you Harold your getting a hang of that quick!

Harold: I have never heard of these

Duke: yeah they weren’t really a thing for a while, but technology and stuff got way better and more people were able to use them!

Harold: *presses buttons* Bruce and The family are really nice to me, but I did not think I would ever have a voice

Duke: I mean? Not many people do sometimes, also YOU KNOW BRUCE???

Harold: he took me in so I didn’t have to go back to the asylums

Duke: wait people were putting you in an an asylum???

Harold: many people like me get put in institutions and asylums, they are not good places.

Duke: wow I am learning things, well it’s nice to meet you formally Harold! Do you want me to drop you off anywhere or do you wanna go home?

Harold: I was in the middle of updating some parts to the Batmobile, and would like to continue.

Duke: sure dude, want any food before we go home? Because we are out already why not?

Harold: would not, but thank you

Duke and Harold make their way back to the bat cave, there Tim is sitting at the bat computer pouring over Case files.

Duke: hi Tim

Harold: hi tim

Tim: HAROLD???

Harold: I have a AAC now, duke got it

Tim: wait what is that?

Duke: dude, you don’t know what a AAC is?

Tim: no what is it?

Duke: it’s a device so that mute people or nonverbal people can communicate without having to speak, uh also why did no one tell me about Harold?

Tim: oh Harold usually sleeps during the night and tinkers in the shed, you never noticed his room?

Duke: uh, no.

Tim: wow no one told you?

Duke: yeah no.

Harold: I do not blame you, nice to meet you duke

Duke: you too man, wow uh so you really have been here the whole time?

Harold: yes HaHa

Tim: that thing really works wonders

From that moment forward Duke and Harold became good friends, and they started to talk often about all sorts of engineering and technology related things, and Duke would bring Harold cookies and cool things he picked up on his travels and fights.

Prev | current | next

[daengtokki]

For Seubgmin's birthday countdown, could I request an apocalypse scenario where Seungmin is worried about reader coming back late from going out to get resources and thinking something might have happened to her. Like he's worried and catastrophizing and maybe they got into a small argument before she left so now he's scared his last words to her were ones of anger but he was just concerned about her safety going out alone? 💘💓💖💗���️

Kim Seungmin/gn!reader

wc: ~1.2k

rating: post-apocalyptic fluff

Seven hours...it isn’t that long…eight hours? he thinks. No, not really, considering how long he and the others have taken before. But he knows how uncertain the usual paths in and out are, and how many there are to take. At any moment, one can be completely wiped from the map. Before you get back, he thinks again. The horrible, intrusive thoughts that won’t go away until they run through his mind, so he lets them. It could happen before you even start back home.

“Okay, enough,” he tells himself, out loud this time, and it’s strange hearing his own voice echo in the room. Seungmin heads for the doorway, and peeks outside. The others are here, most of them, crowded around a bonfire, laughing and drinking. Why didn’t anybody go with you? He knows why. It’s because you didn’t ask anyone to go along, because you’re stubborn and used to being alone. And angry at him, probably.

This is all his fault. He sets his palm against his forehead and tries to gauge his temperature, but he’s no good at this. If you were here, you could tell if it went down from this morning, or up, or stayed the same. But it doesn’t matter, he feels well enough if you don’t count the horrible nauseated feeling in his gut, or the tightness in his chest. Sucking in a deep breath takes effort, but he manages.

You’d laugh at him and pinch his cheeks if you saw him so worried, tease him mercilessly until he couldn’t come back from it. Were it anyone else, they wouldn’t stand a chance against Seungmin, but you beat him at his own game every time.

“Please…” he starts again, speaking to the floor as he starts to strip and head for the bed. “Please,” spread eagle on top of the blankets, eyes fixed on the ceilings. “Just come back. I can’t do this alone.”

~

"Minnie…I can call you that? Are you sure?"

"Of course I’m sure"

"Well, I heard you giving someone attitude when they called you that before…when I first got here."

You’re right, he hates the nickname coming from most people. He used to like it, months ago when the world was still in one piece, but everything is different now. There’s not much space left for that kind of softness, not to him. But…

'I did, you’re right. You can call me Minnie."

A roll of thunder in the distance makes his stomach sink and his heart thump in his throat. He can’t think straight enough to figure out if it’s coming from the direction you most likely went.

“You’re not going anywhere with a fever, Minnie. Get back into bed.”

“And you don’t have to go at all. Leaving when you’re mad won’t make things better.”

“I’m not mad”

“You should be. Why aren’t you pissed at me?"

"Because I love you, and I don’t wanna be angry. I was hoping you felt the same."

He stares, frozen. Again.

"No?"

The words never come out, even though he desperately wants them to, so he ends up looking like an asshole.

~

“I love you, too.” Seungmin stares up at his outstretched hand, letting his perception switch from the ceiling, to the jagged scar across his knuckles. Lightning flashes, and he jumps when thunder cracks, much closer this time. “I do.”

The slow start of rain brings everything crashing down on him. You’re out there in this—the thunder, and the lightning. He left you go when he could have stopped you. Seungmin closes his eyes, and he knows his mind will keep going, but the fever will at least put him to sleep.

It does. Everything quiets, and slowly slips away.

He dreams of you, a fever dream…everything is slow and strange. But it’s so real. Maybe he can tell you here, and you’ll feel it wherever you are. But he moves his mouth, and the words stick in his throat. Just like in his waking life. And just like you…your words do come out… Minnie

It feels good to hear your voice, even far away and in a dream. You’re burning up, sweetie…

Seungmin’s eyes open to a blur of light and colors. The lamplight, he can smell the oil. Candles. The smell of rain and something else. It’s you. He knows that scent; you, after working and sweating in the heat all day. Seungmin is feral for it, and everything else about you. Finally, you come into view. You’re drenched, and muddy.

“You’re home.” He smiles. Or tries to. His muscles don’t seem to be working yet. “I was so worried.”

“You were worried? Have you had any water while I was gone?”

No, he doesn’t think he had a drop all day. “A little.”

“I found some yarrow, but then I found more aspirin, so we’ll start with that.”

He and his stupid fever, that’s why you left? "It would have broken eventually," he’s sure, but that’s not good enough for you. “You could have gotten hurt, or lost…or worse.”

“It hasn’t gone down for three days, but it will now. And I never get lost. Sit up.”

Even your softest voice is a little demanding, and he loves it. You hand him two little pills, and Seungmin swallows them down with his first drink of water all day.

“Good boy,” You barely get the words about before he’s reaching for you. Seungmin brings you closer, and wraps his arms so tight around you—he’s not sure where the strength to do it came from.

“I’m sorry,” he tugs at your jacket and your shirt to find skin to kiss, “I’m an ass.” He savors the taste, the salt of the rain, and your sweat.

“No you’re not, Minnie”

He pulls more, and you let him continue. Seungmin kisses and nips across your chest, pulls you onto his lap, and buries you in his embrace. “I was today.”

“You haven’t been feeling well”

“I should’ve told you how much I love you.” Your lips feel cool against his burning skin. He loosens his grip so you can pull away and look at him. “Oh, you’re hurt.” He takes your arm and holds it gently, runs his fingers up and down the deep scratches, still fresh and angry looking.

“It’s nothing”

The heat from his hands and lips probably sting, but if so, you don’t show it. “So I’m telling you now.” Seungmin kisses up your arm and tastes the blood, comes back down, kisses your wrist and your palm. He grabs both of your hands and places them on his cheeks, damp from sweat. “And you’re not leaving my sight ever again.”

“But you show me all the time.” You kiss his neck again, and his cheek, and the tip of his warm nose.

Seungmin holds you there, “can I show you right now?” He asks, but takes a kiss before you answer—deep and messy and fever-warm like the rest of him. “Please.”

“That would be very irresponsible of me”

“But you love being irresponsible,” he says into your mouth. Seungmin doesn’t want to let go of your lips now that he has them back.

“You’re right, I do”

[miyamiwu]

Initially, what made Blue Lock great was its concept of ego. It was fresh and never before discussed at length in a sports manga. The story also clearly presented a theory—“Individualism, and not collectivism, is what’s needed for the Japan football team to win”—and then slowly elaborated on that theory until it finally proved it true in the U20 arc.

The manga could’ve ended right after the U20 match and just leave the World Cup happenings to the reader’s imagination, but it didn’t. Instead, it sought to put the Blue Lock Philosophy against different philosophies all over the world in the NEL arc.

This is a bold and exciting move, but now the position of the Blue Lock Philosophy being Correct is constantly challenged. And with each match they play, believing Blue Lock to be the right way is getting harder and harder.

Snuffy is right. Ego alone won’t get you anywhere.

On the world stage, where all the top players are egoistic, you need to have more than just ego in order to win.

Isagi gaining metavision was a good writing choice because it elevated him to the levels of pros…but then it turned out that many of these pros have metavision as well.

When ego and metavision aren’t unique, then that leaves actual physical skills to be the deciding factor on whether you gain an advantage on the field.

And Isagi… is not the best player physically. He never was.

And that’s fine! He doesn’t have to be talented in that regard in order to compete… but the thing is, we also haven’t seem him doing any focused training on his physical skills. And I don’t mean regular Blue Lock hell training because everybody does that. I’m talking about Isagi picking one weakness he has and just focusing on improving it. He doesn’t have to be the best in it, but there should be some effort.

He’s not so good at one-on-one’s, so maybe he can work on his dribbling. Or maybe he can practice how to trap the ball better so he’ll have more shooting options and not be overly reliant on his direct shot. Or maybe he can do some strength/core training so he won’t be easily knocked away by Rin again. Anything!

But so far, there’s been none of that in the NEL arc. (He did practice on a “lefty shot” before, but that turned out to be a hoax and it was also never mentioned again after the Ubers match.)

And it’s funny because Isagi has no excuse to not do this.

Kaiser, whose kick speed already surpasses Noa’s, had the time to come up with a new shooting technique. He’s also a Talented Learner like Isagi, so if he can do it, why can’t our protagonist?

I’m all for Talented Learners winning against Geniuses through hard work because that’s objectively a good message to send… but there hasn’t been any hard work. It’s all just ego mind games right now. Isagi winning in such a scenario would be unfair and idealistic.

----

I’m gonna be honest with y’all, I’m very worried about how the BM vs PxG match will turn out. Blue Lock was what got me back to Tumblr and also what kept me alive through the depressive pandemic years. If the game ends with yet another Isagi win, I am going to be extremely disappointed because that would mean that the manga had completely turned into a powerscaling fantasy.

(If Ness manages to get any development in this match in spite of that, then I might still wanna stick around. But with only 2 chapters left to the end of the volume, hope is starting to feel elusive 😞)

But yeah… if Isagi wins (and there’s no Ness development as consolation), then I might just drop the manga 😞

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Hands off - Rafe Cameron Imagine

A/N: Enjoy some protective Rafe that I could not get out of my brain 💚

Warnings: fighting, cursing, mentions of alcohol and partying and I think that’s it!

If there was one thing Rafe Cameron knew how to do, it was throw a massive party. Ward and Rose were out of town for the weekend and your boyfriend had decided to celebrate by throwing the party of the year.

All of figure eight was invited, your friends and his making up a majority of the guest list. The plan was to have everyone over, get absolutely shit faced, and have the time of your life. You had been hanging out with Rafe and his boys when you heard your friends call out your name, the noise still audible over the loud music that was being broadcast throughout the house.

Rafe saw you look at your friends and back to him, an easy smile on his lips as he waved at the girls and then nodded at you. “Go have fun, meet up with me later, princess.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips that you returned, smiling at him as you pulled away. The two of you exchanged I love you’s before you disappeared into the crowd to go and find some alcohol.

It wasn’t a hard task, seeing as Rafe had a massive stash for the two of you and your friends for the night. You filled up one of many cups as your body moved to the music with your friends, heads thrown back as pure laughter left your lips. You could feel eyes on you and you managed to catch Rafe’s eyes through the crowd, a smile on his lips as he watched you have fun.

“You are so lucky!” One of your very drunken friends commented and you chuckled, agreeing with her before you excused yourself to go to the restroom. You started to make your way through the crowd, most people knowing to move out of your way. They knew who you were dating and they didn’t want an issue with him.

However, there seemed to be one man who didn’t get the memo. He was following you through the crowd like a predator stalking it’s prey, cornering you at the bathroom door as you tried to get in. “Hey gorgeous. Why don’t you come home with me?” He had a smirk evident on his lips as he leaned against the door, his frame towering over you by a few inches. “No, thanks.” You we’re intoxicated pretty heavily, but you knew you just wanted to get back to your friends and Rafe.

The man didn’t seem to like that answer, sneering as he took hold of your arm and started to walk you towards the front door. You tried to squirm out of his grasp, trying to get the attention of anyone and everyone who was around you. However, no one seemed to notice. You let out a yelp as he got you out the front door, trying to find his car now. You desperately pulled out your phone, dialing Rafe’s number. However, it went to voicemail.

“You better let me go. My boyfriend will find me soon.” Your voice was trying to sound tougher than you felt as the guy just chuckled and tightened his grasp on your wrist, causing you to whimper out louder. “I don’t see him anywhere so we don’t have to worry, princess.” You tried to pull your wrist from his grasp again, failing to get free.

“You might wanna try looking behind you, asshole.” You heard Rafe’s voice and felt a wave of relief wash over you as he pushed the man away from you, the shove dislodging your hand from his grasp. He pulled you against him, checking you over for any injuries. When he didn’t see any other than your wrist, he nodded towards Kelce and Topper. “Go with them for a second, babe. I’ll come find you soon.” He pressed a kiss your temple before you just nodded and walked over to the other boys. You knew better than to try and get your boyfriend to calm down at this point. He was calm; which was a really bad sign for the man who tried to get you to his car.

“Yo, man. She didn’t say anything about you until we were outside. It’s her fault.” The guy now had his hands up as Rafe towered over him, a low chuckle leaving his lips. “So you think it’s okay to just take any girl you want home against her will? Right, yeah no I get it man.” Rafe was nodding as his lips were set in a straight line, pretending that he understood what the guy was saying. That was when he landed the first punch against the guys jaw, the sick sound making you cringe as topper and kelce decided to lead you back inside.

They took you up to Rafe’s room, Topper sitting down beside you and giving you a small, kind of reassuring smile. “Kelce, can you go make sure he’s okay? I don’t want him killing anyone tonight.” Your words were soft and timid as you got up and threw on one of your boyfriends hoodies, suddenly feeling way too exposed in the tank top you were wearing.

Kelce went to go leave, being met with Rafe at the door. He excused the other two males after thanking them for watching you, giving them strict orders to get rid of the guy who was messing with you as soon as he woke up from his blackout. You pretended not to hear, making yourself comfy on the bed again.

He made his way over to you, his hands reaching out for you now showing signs of bruising and slight blood from where he had to be punching the guy as hard as he could. Both of your faces showed concern for each other as you reached out, him carefully taking your wrist in his hands. “He didn’t hurt you did he?” The words were surprisingly quiet and audible despite the raging party going on downstairs. You shook your head as you met the blue eyes of the boy in front of you, moving to where you could throw your arms around him. “No, he didn’t. Are you okay?” He smiled and chuckled at your concern, his hand smoothing down your hair and rubbing down your back.

“I’m fine, pretty girl. I was more worried about you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he pulled you into his lap. “Let’s just hangout here for a bit, yeah? I wanna make sure my girl is okay before we go back downstairs.” His voice was soothing as you cuddled into him, your face burying into his neck as you nodded. You just wanted to relax currently and be surrounded by rafe; which is exactly where you were. You knew you were safe as long as he was around, he had proven that many times.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Late Night Cravings

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

AN: Can't take these two anywhere lol

Synopsis: Those pregnancy cravings have you wanting more than just food 😏

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was getting close to midnight and being that you thought your stomach had finally calmed down from the morning sickness, you began to grow hungry. You had been nauseous and throwing up all day with hardly any relief. Jack was doing his best to help you feel better, but nothing had really helped before you drank the peppermint tea that he had made you. That was about an hour ago and you sat up in the bed before swinging your legs over the side and went into the walk-in closet to grab one of Jack’s hoodies and slipped on your slides.

You were trying to be quiet and not wake Jack up, but it didn’t help when you dropped your wallet on the floor and groaned having to lean down and pick it up. Your back was hurting way too much for that.

“Baby? What is going on and where are you going? It’s midnight.” Jack reached over to grab your wallet off the floor and didn’t hand it to you waiting for an explanation since he knew you were trying to escape.

“I’m hungry and I didn’t want to wake you up. I know you’re tired too with taking care of me. I figured I would go and get something and come right back.” You shrugged while trying to grab the wallet from him, but he moved so you wouldn’t be able to get it. 

“You should know better. You know you’re not going anywhere by yourself. How many times do I have to tell you that? I don’t care if I’m tired, my wife is pregnant and I’m going to take care of her.”

“I was only going down the street to…”

“Wing Stop?” Jack asked while raising his eyebrow at you and you immediately took this opportunity to glare at him. 

“You are not going to make me feel bad for wanting it so much, I blame you because you impregnated me. I was going to get Urban to go with me since he’s awake.”

“I’m going too, let’s go. And is that my hoodie?”

“Correction, our hoodie. This was on my side of the closet.”

“Do we even have our own sides anymore because your ass stays over in the section that was clearly for me.”

“I… well you can forget about it being our hoodie, this shit is mine now.”

“Don’t look for any of your Birkins tomorrow because I’ll hide them.”

“Fine. I’ll call Maggie.”

“YOU BETTER NOT!”

–

“Wait a minute, let me make sure I got this right.” Jack said once again while looking over at you to make sure he got your order right before getting out and going into Wing Stop.

“Just let me go get it. Last thing we need is preggo over here kicking our asses because you forgot something. I’ve had her order memorized since we left the damn house.” Urban responded from the backseat and you reached into your wallet to give him your credit card, but he quickly declined.

“I got it, bestie and I need to make a liquor store run while we’re out.”

“Okay, I appreciate you.” You said while your eyes started to water.

“Let me feed you because these hormones got you acting wild.” Was all Urban said as he got out the car and all you did was stick your middle finger up at him and stuck out your tongue.

“Do it again and I’ll cut it off.” You heard him yell before going in the store and Jack turned to you and you could feel him staring at you.

“Well damn, do you wanna fuck me? Why you staring at me so hard?” You asked while looking at him and rolling your eyes.

“I always want to fuck you so you better cut it out and behave. I will tear your ass up in the Wing Stop parking lot, don’t tempt me.”

“Oh really?” You asked while raising your eyebrow and all your husband did was smirk at you.

“Yes, but I was going to ask you if you were finally feeling better. I feel so bad that I really can’t do anything.”

“Yes you do. You take care of me to the best of your ability and that’s all I could ever ask for from you. I appreciate you so much, you have no idea. I thought the morning sickness would be over and done with by now, but it’s just something I just have to deal with. It’s not going to be forever.”

“I still feel bad though. Don’t like seeing my baby miserable.” Jack said while reaching over to kiss you.

“I know, but I owe you for taking care of me all day.”

“No you don’t. You’re my wife. It’s literally in my job description.”

“Yes, I do because I want to. And you’re my husband so this goes both ways, you know this.” You responded while turning Jack’s face towards you so you could kiss him. He leaned over closer to you to make it easier since your stomach was making it harder for you to maneuver. 

The make-out session began to get heated as Jack reached under his your shirt and started massaging your left breast which led you to deepen the kiss and you wanted him in you and wanted him in you now. 

You suddenly got an idea and pulled away from him smiling and all he was doing was looking curiously at you. You took your seatbelt off and leaned over to attempt to slide Jack’s shorts down clearly seeing how bricked up he was, but he immediately stopped you.

“It can wait until we get home, I want you to be comfortable. And there are way too many people in this parking lot.” Jack said, which led to you rolling your eyes and pouting because he wasn’t trying to let you get your way.

“What the? As much as I want to, I'm not riding you, all I wanted to do was put your dick in my mouth. And the windows are tinted, the last time that I checked.”

“What I said still stands as bad as I want you to.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll listen to you this time. Still remember how I did that when we were driving to Atlanta and Urb was in the back knocked out.”

“To this day, I think he was awake and didn’t say anything.” Jack confessed and all you did was shrug. 

“Either way, I’d do it again. Now can we go home so I can suck your dick since you won’t let me do it now?”

“If you ride my face first I’ll let you do anything you want.”

Ten minutes later when you were almost back home, you suddenly had a realization.

“BABY!”

“WHAT? ARE YOU OKAY?”

“I’M FINE! WE FORGOT URBAN! HOW DID WE FORGET OUR FIRST BORN?!

“OH FUCK.”

Just then your phone was going off and of course it was no one, but him.

“Did you…….? DID YOU TWO SERIOUSLY LEAVE ME HERE? WITHOUT ADULT SUPERVISION?”

“I’M SORRY URBY! WE’RE COMING!”

“What the hell?!?! Did you forget that I live with you two? AND I HAVE YOUR FOOD?!”

You then put the phone on speaker so Jack could hear him.

“I didn’t forget you live with us! I just…. Umm….”

“Yall were about to fuck in the damn car, weren’t you?”

“Uh…” Jack started to say, but Urban immediately cut him off.

“I CANNOT FUCKING STAND YOU TWO! YOU ALREADY PUT NOT ONE, BUT THREE IN HER! DON’T YOU THINK YOU’VE DONE ENOUGH!? STOP TOUCHING HER!”

“I CAN’T HELP IT! MY WIFE IS FINE AS SHIT!”

“Ohh, why thank you. Right back at you.” You responded and Urban immediately rolled his eyes. 

“Y/N! STAY ON TOPIC!”

“BUT I AM!”

“Just… meet me at the liquor store across from Wing Stop. I cannot believe yall asses. I’m about to light yall asses UP in the PG group chat.”

Once you hung up, Jack had stopped at a red light and the two of you looked over at each other before busting out laughing.

“Looks like I had a late night craving that had to do with my husband’s dick and not food.” 

“We should just leave him there.”

“JACKMAN THOMAS! WE ARE NOT LEAVING OUR FIRST BORN AT WING STOP AT 1 IN THE MORNING! HE COULD GET KIDNAPPED!”

“WHAT?! HE CAN CALL CURSE! AND WHO THE FUCK WOULD KIDNAP URBAN?!”

“YOUR CRAZY ASS FANS, THAT'S WHO. NEXT THING WE KNOW WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO PAY A RANSOM TO GET HIM BACK! AND HE HAS MY FOOD IN CASE YOU FORGOT?”

“Oh, so now you want the food? Two minutes ago you wanted my dick in your mouth.”

“Don’t act up. Because I won’t be putting it anywhere near my mouth if you keep getting smart with me.”

“You have other holes.”

“JACKMAN! I SWEAR!”

“WHAT?! WHAT I SAY?!”

Liked by y/ninsta, urbanwyatt, danivalentine, 2forwoyne, druski2funny, saweetie, dualipa, djdrama, quiiso, and 2,087,952 others

jackharlow: went to get wifey food at 1 am and horny hours began to set in. Pulled off without the food and ten minutes later she screams "BABY WE FORGOT URBAN! HOW DID WE FORGET OUR FIRST BORN!?" 😭

urbanwyatt: I will NEVER fucking forgive yall for this one. all because yall wanted to fuck like you haven't done enough of that already. NEWSFLASH your wife is PREGNANT WITH TRIPLETS, GET OFF OF HER!

saweetie: LMAOOOOO WHAT THE HELL?!?! POOR URBAN

urbandjack24: they treat my mans so bad 😭

softtcurse: should have left him there

urbanwyatt: YASMIN?!?!

jackharlow: softtcurse same thing I said to y/n, but she was convinced that someone would try to kidnap him and we would end up having to pay a ransom to get him back so she made me drive and go get him

danivalentine: y/ninsta you would come up with that lmao

softtcurse: urbanwyatt yes? love you 💖

urbanwyatt: softtcurse I beg to differ, but love you too

druski2funny: and yall went out to eat again without inviting me

y/ninsta: druski2funny we didn't even eat 👀

jackharlow: druski2funny at least not right away, but um... I did. My baby was keeping my meal warm for me. 😏

urbanwyatt: nasty asses, I fucking SWEAR!

jackharlowsource: he can tell it's warm so he asked wifey if he could dive in 😏

druski2funny: jackharlow it would only be right if you threw some ranch on there

y/ninsta: BYE DRUSKI

jackharlow: druski2funny look, I already have her screaming as it is. adding ranch to it, I would never come up for air and would probably send her into another dimension. BABY! I WANNA TRY THIS!

y/ninsta: jackharlow no.

jackharlow: y/ninsta 😕

y/ninsta: jackharlow you are NOT putting fucking ranch anywhere near my pussy so you can fucking FORGET IT. what the actual FUCK is your problem? STOP LISTENING TO DRUSKI

jackandy/naremyparents: here they horny asses go

lilnasx: not yall leaving Urban!

y/ninsta: jackharlow if we divorce, imma need child support for Urban and I want full custody

jackharlow: y/ninsta over my dead fucking body. he's living with me and you'll be paying me child support.

urbanwyatt: so either of yall can forget me in another country next time? count me out. 2forwoyne gets full custody of me because the judge will be hearing about what happened tonight

2forwoyne: urbanwyatt who said I wanted you?

y/ninsta: DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

urbanwyatt: not yall coming for me after I GOT ABANDONED IN A DARK COLD PARKING LOT AT 1 AM WITHOUT MY PARENTS

druski2funny: urbanwyatt I'll take custody of you

urbanwyatt: druski2funny hard pass

jackharlow: urbanwyatt stop being dramatic, we came and got you

urbanwyatt: jackharlow AFTER YOUR WIFE HAD TO TELL YOU THAT YOU FORGOT ME IN THE FIRST PLACE

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt we love you Urby!

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta clearly not enough. you almost made me an orphan tonight.

sza: and we thought jack was the dramatic one

jackharlow: y/ninsta I might need to take you up on that offer soon 👀

y/ninsta: jackharlow name the time and place baby 👀

jackharlow: but let's do it in the air

urbanwyatt: NO!

y/ninsta: lmaoooo fuck private, we're doing that shit commercial. say less daddy

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinaharlow

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@exoticr0ses

@jharlowsangels

@jackierose902109

@jackmansbabymama

@cmalass

@megawhoree

@softtcurse

@sia2raw

@miniaturehideoutmentality

@hoya122

@nattinatalia

@jackslover12

@skyesthebomb

@jackharlows-world

@louisianalady

@fdl305

@automaticpeachsong

@harlowcomehome

@gassyandsassy1

@babygirlwilly

@amethyst09

@harrycanyonmoonn

@toocriticalharlow

@tattered-tales

@sisiking99

@dessxoxsworld

@gillybear17

@jacksdaycare

@iheartharlow

@disaster-rose

@babyvinnie

@evansxchalamet

@chtkmyharlow​

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

[sweethoneyrose83]

90s-inspired dialogue prompts

"Dude, did you hear? The new Nirvana album just dropped. We have to hit the record store before it sells out!"

"I swear, if I don’t beat this level in Mario, I’m throwing the controller across the room!"

"You've got mail! Wait, hold on, my dial-up is still connecting."

"Why would you spend $50 on a pager? Just call me on my landline, duh!"

"Have you seen the new episode of Friends? I need to talk about Ross and Rachel!"

"I'm telling you, AOL chat rooms are where it's at. You can meet people from anywhere!"

"Whatever. As if! Like I’m gonna wear that to the mall."

"Let’s meet up at Blockbuster later. I’m thinking about renting Clueless again."

"I just recorded that new song off the radio onto my mixtape. It's going to be on repeat all day."

"Mom said we could use the car, but we have to rewind the VHS before we return it!"

"No way. I heard they're working on something called a DVD. I don't get it. Why change VHS?"

"The Tamagotchi is dying again. I don't know how many times I can save this thing."

"I just got my first Walkman. CDs sound so much better than cassettes!"

"We should totally prank call that radio station and request Backstreet Boys for the hundredth time."

"Okay, I got a quarter—I'm gonna use the payphone and see if anyone wants to hang out."

"I'm recording TRL later. I can't miss that new Britney Spears music video."

"What do you mean you don’t have a MySpace account? It’s, like, the thing right now."

"If my parents pick up the phone while I’m online, it’s going to cut me off. Don’t call the house!"

"I just burned you a CD with all the best songs from the radio. You’re going to love it!"

"If this Y2K thing actually messes up our computers, I’m never trusting technology again."

"Dude, you won’t believe what I just found at Blockbuster!"

"No way! Did they finally get 'The Matrix' in stock?"

"Why do you always hog the phone line? I’ve been waiting for my AOL dial-up for like, forever!"

"Chill out, I’m trying to finish this important call on my pager."

"Man, you’re dressed like you just walked out of a Nirvana concert."

"It’s called grunge, bro. You wouldn’t understand."

"I’m telling you, Tamagotchis are like, the future."

"Yeah, if the future is taking care of a digital pet all day."

"I just taped the season finale of ‘Friends,’ wanna come over and watch it?"

"As long as there’s pizza, I’m in. Could I be any more excited?"

"My Tamagotchi just died because I was too busy playing with my new Game Boy Color!"

"You need to get your priorities straight."

"Can you believe they canceled 'Saved by the Bell'? Zack and Kelly forever, man."

"Yeah, but the new season of 'Fresh Prince' is all that."

"I just bought a stack of CDs, now my Discman’s set for the road trip."

"As long as you don’t hit a bump and make it skip!"

"I got an email from this girl I met in a chatroom last night."

"Email? You should’ve just asked for her AIM screen name."

"I heard they're coming out with something called a DVD next year."

"Pfft, like that’ll replace my VHS collection."

At the Mall:

Character 1: "Dude, if we don’t get to the food court soon, I’m gonna pass out. I need a slice of Sbarro pizza, stat!"

Character 2: "Chill, we'll get there. But first, I’m grabbing this Nirvana shirt—Kurt would want me to have it."

Dial-Up Drama:

Character 1: "I was this close to beating my high score on Pac-Man, and then someone picked up the phone and killed the connection!"

Character 2: "Ugh, the struggle is real. Why do we even have one line for the internet and the phone?"

Movie Night:

Character 1: "Blockbuster was out of Jurassic Park again! I had to settle for Space Jam."

Character 2: "As if that’s a problem! Michael Jordan and Looney Tunes? That’s a classic, man!"

Mixtape Meltdown:

Character 1: "I made you this mixtape—front to back, all the jams you love."

Character 2: "Wait, you recorded over my TLC album? You’re gonna be scrubs to me forever!"

School Day Crush:

Character 1: "He passed me a note in history class! I swear, it's love."

Character 2: "Let me see that… it just says 'Wanna hang at the arcade later?' So romantic…"

First Cell Phone:

Character 1: "Dude, check it out, I finally got a cell phone!"

Character 2: "That’s not a cell phone, it’s a brick! You gonna carry that in your backpack?"

The Internet:

Character 1: "I just spent an hour downloading one song on Napster. Totally worth it."

Character 2: "Better hope the FBI doesn’t show up at your door. They take that stuff seriously."

Fashion Emergency:

Character 1: "What’s up with the butterfly clips and platform shoes? Are you going for the full Spice Girls look?"

Character 2: "You say that like it’s a bad thing. Girl Power is forever."

After School TV:

Character 1: "Hurry up! Fresh Prince is on in like five minutes!"

Character 2: "Not until I’m done watching Sailor Moon, this episode’s a big deal!"

Computer Lab Chaos:

Character 1: "Why does this computer keep freezing? I’ve got to finish my PowerPoint for tomorrow."

Character 2: "You’re probably running too many programs. Close Oregon Trail before you get another 'Your ox has died' message."

[eli-com]

୧ *·˚ 4 HEAD-CANONS - HOBIE BROWN

1. He’s a love island fan - but not by choice. You’d put it on one night whilst he was sat beside you on his phone, and this continued for the next few nights until eventually his phone was long gone and he was swearing at the tv, possibly more into the show than you were.

“What the fucks he doin’?! Are you kidding me? Stupid prick.” He’d throw his hands up in the air, clearly annoyed by the people on TV.

“Hobes, chill, you don’t even know these people!” You’d laugh, finding it funny how upset he was getting over a show he would’ve call stupid if you’d asked him about it just weeks prior.

“Yeah but she’s gonna come back and see him with another girl, poor sod.” He’d huff, leaning back and crossing his arms. “People on this show are twats.”

2. Yes, he’s a punk. Yes, he’s from camden. But he is NOT one of the camden punks who sit on the bridge asking for money. He avoids Camden Town at all costs, claiming it’s full of too many tourists with more money than sense. He used to go there when he was younger to get piercings and tattoos, because god knows if there’s one place they won’t ask for ID, it’s the dodgy tattoo shops in Camden. However once he taught himself to do piercings and (kind of?) tattoos, there was no need to go anymore.

“Hobie there’s this new food stall that I thought we could go try today-“ You’d quickly be cut off by his voice. “Where?” He already knew where this was going.

“Camden market…” A scoff would sound from where he sat on the bed watching you get dressed. “I can get you better food literally anywhere else.” You’d walk over, falling into his side in annoyance.

“But it’s literally five minutes down the road!”

Sometimes he’ll end up giving in and will let you drag him to the market, where you’d force him to buy something from one of the stalls; but not before he could complain about how overpriced and overrated it was.

3. On the topic of him doing his own piercings - he’d LOVE if you asked him for a piercing. I can guarantee from the moment you met him he’d been mapping out your face, imagining which ones would best suit you. Of course he’d always make sure you were sure you wanted it, he didn’t want you to regret it once it was done, but as soon as you gave him a green light he’d be ready, grabbing his supplies and sitting you down on the edge of the bathtub.

“Hold fucking still.” Hobie would huff, one gloved hand placed on your shoulder as the other grabbed whatever he was looking for.

“I’m nervous!” You’d whine, your own hands clenching onto the edge of the bathtub you were sitting on. A small ‘tsk’ would leave Hobie’s lips as he pulled slightly away to look at you. He was kneeling in front of you, yet his face was still fairly close to yours from where you sat.

“Love, I haven’t even got the needle out yet- I’m literally cleaning your nose with a cotton bud and you’re already wriggling around.”

4. Whenever you become interested in something, he’s interested in it too. Wanna dye your own hair? He’ll watch videos on it so he can help. Learning to make your own jewellery? He’ll buy the supplies and make some too. He loves to do things as a couple, and he likes to be good at things so that if you ever need help he’ll know how to support you; even if it is only little things like how to thread a needle.

You’d be sat on your bed, blanket pulled up to your waist as you struggled with your hook. You’d recently become obsessed with crocheting after seeing it on TikTok and decided that you needed to learn. You were currently struggling to get the hang of the movements, the yarn continuously slipping off of the hook.

Hobie would be sat beside you on his phone before he noticed you struggling, a smug grin forming at his lips as he reached over, pulling you into his arms and placing his own hands over yours.

“You’re holding it wrong, moron.” He’d show you how to hold it currently, helping you to successfully pull the yarn through the slip knot you’d created. A smile would pull at your lips before you turned to face him, confused.

“How the hell did you know that?” He’d grin down at you.

“Watched a video on it last night after you mentioned your package came.”

[toppersjeep]

Chapter 7-All For Love

Masterlist

(AN: isn’t he just gorgeous, also ty for all the love on this story!! I really appreciate it)

(Blue bold is narration from drive to survive! Which I will label for you)

Elena POV

Charles and I arrived at the paddock together this time. But we were ready to face everyone. For once I didn’t care about the drama it would cause. We were both happy.

“Good morning Netflix” I said waving to the camera. “Good morning Elena” the Netflix crew said. “It’s race day and I’m super excited” I said. “Maybe Elena will let me win” Charles said shutting the trunk of his car. “Hmmm never Leclerc” I said.

We both walked in together holding hands.

“So is this the newest it couple of formula one” the producer asked. “I guess we are” I said. “We definitely are the best couple” Charles said. “What not me and April” George said walking beside us. “It’s a straight tie I think” April said. “Lies” I said.

“Alright my love I’ll see you after the race” Charles said. “Yes I’ll see you” I said kissing him. “Woooo finally” Kika said I laughed. “Kika oh my god I missed you” I said hugging her. “I missed you too” she said smiling.

“We gotta catch up after qualifying” I said. “Absolutely good luck today El rooting for you” Kika said. I then walked into the Mercedes paddock. “Ah there she is” Toto said. “Hi everyone” I said. “So you and Charles” Lewis asked.

“Mmmh” I said. “Shame” he said. “Why’s that” I said. “Kinda had a little crush on you but” he said I laughed. “Sure lew” I said. “You’re gorgeous and talented Elena any guy would be lucky to have you” Lewis said. “But I guess I’m glad it’s Charles out of anyone” he said I smiled.

“Thank you Lewis” I said. “Always” he said smiling.

Later on after qualifying

It was interview time and I knew people would ask about my relationship with Charles. My team said to try to answer some. But avoid the bad questions about it.

“So we have with us Miss Elena Verstappen you got P2 today how are you feeling” the interviewer asked. “Uh it was a great qualifying im glad it didn’t rain today” I said smiling.

“How’d it feel to be beaten once again by Max your brother” he asked. “I think my brother has a great car you know but I do believe I’ll beat him again” I said. “So you feel as if your the better Verstappen” he said I smirked.

“Oh I know I am” I said.

I then went on to the next interviewer. And this is where things took a turn.

“Elena I do have to ask about your relationship with Charles LeClerc” the press guy asked. “He and I have been best friends for years.. and you know now we are dating” I said. “That’s great I guess what I’m asking is who’s next” he said.

“Sorry” I said as Charles looked over. “Well first Daniel Ricciardo and now Charles LeClerc” he said. “What are you suggesting” I said. “I’m just wondering which guy you’ll get with next” he added. “Seeing that you can’t really win many races but you can sleep with men in the paddock” he said.

Charles walked over.

“What’s your name mate” Charles said. “Ah of course she can’t defend herself” he said. “Listen asshole I hope you enjoyed your time in F1” I said. “Cause now you’ll never have another job here or anywhere” I said with a smile.

“Get him out of here” Charles said and security took the guy away. “God what a dickhead” I said. “All good guys” Max said. “Since when do you care” I said walking away. “Elena I do care” Max said following me. “No you don’t Max just let it go” I said.

“Elena look I’m sorry about your Mom you know I’m nothing like Joss right” Max said. “Then where were you all those years I wanted a brother” I said. “You were absent just like him Max” I said. “I mean I thought after I joined racing we’d be close” I said looking at him.

“But you didn’t want any of that you just wanted to prove you are better.. than everyone” I said. “Including me so I don’t know what you want from me” I said looking at Max. “Is that how you really feel” Max said. “Oh there’s more but I don’t wanna waste the champs time” I said walking away from him.

Producer: Do you think you’ll ever fix your relationship with Max?

Me: All Max cares about is winning on that track he’s a different person. And off the track he is too. Max doesn’t do nice things unless he wants something

Producer: Are you saying max is playing mind games with you??

Me: Max is always playing mind games with everyone in the paddock. But the difference between me and the next racer is that I can beat Max. I will be the next world champion

Producer: Well good luck to you he’s hard to beat.

___

“Elena may I borrow you for a second” Christian asked. “I guess so” I said. We then walked into the Red Bull building. I went upstairs and into his office. He shut the door. “I know your feelings on Max but I think they you could be very dominant here” he said.

“But you already have Addie here” I said. “That is true but Addie has decided to part her ways with us.. she’s going to be racing along Lando next year ” Christian said. “But with that being said I have a seat to fill and we want you here” Christian said.

“But I’ve been with Mercedes for a long time” I said. “We understand that and before you were with us at alpha tauri” Christian said. “What are you offering me” I said. “A two year contract with Red Bull racing” he said sliding a folder towards me.

I opened it and looked at everything. He’d be offering me more money than the Mercedes one. But would I really wanna be teammates with my brother. Knowing that he’s there number one.

“I know it’s a lot but you have a lot of talent Elena and it’s getting sidelined because of Russell” Christian said. “This is a wonderful opportunity I just don’t know” I said. “I do know Mercedes only offered you one year and Ferrari two” Christian said.

“Yeah I just need a minute to discuss this” I said. “With your boyfriend” Christian said. “Yeah.. I guess it’s just him now huh” I said. “I do want you to know that we’d be your family here too Elena” Christian said. “Yeah thank you I’ll uhh look this over” I said.

I then walked back downstairs and outside. Charles was waiting for me.

“Ah did they kidnap you” Charles said. “We need to talk about something” I said. “Yeah sure” Charles said. “Later at the hotel and off camera” I said. “Everything alright” Charles said.

“Yeah this is just a lot and I need someone to talk to” I said. “We can do that love always” Charles said.

We finally made it back to our hotel room after countless interviews. And filming. Now I had to bring up the Red Bull offer to him.

“Christian pulled me aside today” I said sitting on the bed. “Oh did he I mean everyone wants you in there car” Charles said. I handed him the folder. “Yeah they do” I said. He looked over the deal then looked back at me. “What char” I said.

“This is an amazing deal love but what about Mercedes” Charles said. “They haven’t offered me as much” I said. “But they are your family.. and el” Charles said. “What” I said. “Do you really wanna be in Maxs shadow” Charles said.

“No” I said. “You’d be there second choice not there first he is” Charles said. “I just..” I said. “I know love but you deserve to be chosen first” he said I smiled. “I love you” I said he kissed me. “Whatever you decide I will be there to help you” Charles said.

….

Days later at a press conference

“Elena who have you decided to sign with the upcoming year” the interviewer asked. “I have been given many amazing offers and I really appreciate that” I said.

“But I’ve narrowed this down to two one being Mercedes and the other is Red Bull” I said. Everyone in the room gasped. “Now you said Red Bull offered you a seat next to your brother” he added. “Yeah they did so now I will tell you all my decision” I said.

“This wasn’t the easiest choice I’ve ever had to make but..” I said. “I have decided to continue my time at Mercedes” I said everyone cheered. “I do appreciate the offer from Red Bull but Charles put it best I deserve to be chosen first” I said.

“And Mercedes has always put me first and well they are my second family” I said smiling. Char put a hand on my back. “That’s really great news to hear” the interviewer said. “We are glad she’s sticking around with us” Lewis said.

“I agree she can be a bit annoying but she’s definitely an amazing driver” George said. “Honestly Red Bull better watch out because this is my year” I said.

[bitedownme]

In the last two actual art pieces, now lovingly called “My puppet, your vessel” and “Maestro”, I put a lot of thought. Maybe a little too much as you’re going to see now, because we’re talking about the first one! The latter is making me confused as well, but maybe one day I’ll make similar rant. Or maybe not, better not.

This entire piece does not need context, but, hey, everyone here is being “normal” about SK and Jeser in particular. I have to put my own share of thoughts and I am putting them now, at *checks notes* 2AM. Someone has to be as normal about HK and Ambassador as people here are about SK! And if no one will be, than I WILL BE!

I still need to explain how we got to the image of Ambassador lovingly holding Hanged King’s face. Can I just *places the cut* there we go.

The lyrics I chose for this image should probably speak for themselves, although I have to elaborate that they’re said from Ambassador’s perspective.  They are one of a kind, this is no doubt, as both King and Ambassador are probably a duo you won’t see anywhere, with the first being feared by many for valid reasons and the latter having a reputation of literally speaking and acting on behalf of their King. Ambassador acts like a “Vessel” for a King’s will because the King, while still remains their “Puppet” as everyone here has a role, don’t you dare fuck it up, is not powerless. There we go, an explanation for lyrics choice. Sounds good?

It’s about to get worse, because the part of the song, despite being about Venom and I didn’t know it for two weeks, I associate way too much with them both. This.. is not related to the art itself, so if you don’t want to hear it - I give some more stuff about the piece after the image. Anyway.

For starters: "Thought I was one of a kind, but I'm nothing special / What's under the pantomime? A puppet, a vessel?": Who the hell is Ambassador, really?

“Lights off, anybody home? / Through the window, saw you in there / Hear me knockin' 'cause I'm awful cold / The long road got me winded”: Shocking, but they’re not from King’s kingdom and most likely to be called a traveler of some sorts.

“I'm from another part of town, but we're kindred”: Listen, I don’t know why, but I am 50% sure that at least somewhat Ambassador is not from god knows where, unless it is literally from the place called “God-knows-where” and God definitely doesn’t know about it. Like, somewhere nearby because Kingdom is fucked up to the end. Here it is Neverland, there it is Neverwhere. Wait…

Or you can ignore that and just assume that, they’re both immortals at the very least so that checks out enough. Plus they did got his trust pretty quickly.

“Trust me, if you shut me out and lock the door / The big, bad wolf will blow it off the hinges”: Don't even want to think of the implications of that.

We'll ignore the "Don't tell anyone about me / Hope you're good to keep a secret" part because it... it doesn't... fit.... unless! (NO)

"I can show you worlds without the boundaries / When you're broken, I'm moldin' all the pieces / Lost your better half, want to get it back? / I'm the better half you thought you never had / Drop whatever plans your conscience ever had / Stop pretendin' that you're not already bad": I like how it just makes Ambassador into a trusted Advisor from the start, but slowly degrades into manipulating a God into believing their schemes. Not that They would go against the King… obviously… Do I need to remind that Ambassador technically hanged him themselves? No? Good, because it gets worse.

"Let me in / I wanna crawl under your skin": HELP

I am in the middle of writing this post and I probably look like this after explaining the lyrics. I feel like this honestly.

“I’ve connected the dots” “You didn’t connect shit” No, I did, you just need to be in my place, I am losing my mind!

Anyway, about an actual art piece. I tried too hard to show off some weird things, but I am very proud of it in the most wicked way possible. Hanged King’s face and tentacles are darker than the darkest shadows around (the majority at least). I also tried to show his face as hollow, although you can see if you look closely that the tentacles actually come from inside, wh-…whatever that inside is.

Each eye looks forward, directly at the camera - at Ambassador, who’s holding his head so he looks at them. And he does, WITHOUT HATE. Each this small eye, this small remaining glimpse of his divine power looks forward with no negative emotion. Longing? Curiosity? Or maybe nothing at all! After all the entire exchange or whatever happened after he returned to his throne with the help of Ambassador (who was watching his execution and him till the day he got “free”), so he probably is numb as hell. Or he just doesn’t have anything to feel anymore, not yet at least, he needs to recover before he can get violent.

And after that? After they retract their hands carefully away, the last remaining corporeal evidence of Hanged King’s existence just disappears. Every single eye, that spark of his divinity (remember his Unhanged form? These all-seeing eyes he used to watch over his realms? Yes, them), closed one by one. Tentacles move back into what is now a “hole” in his existence. And he just… leans back in immense fatigue over somehow coming back to life, or never exactly dying at all. Who knows! I don’t know! I AM THE AUTHOR OF THIS INTERPETATION OF THEIR CHARACTER AND I DON’T KNOW! He fucking hates them and yet couldn't do anything about it moments after he was brought to this! I swear I made their relationship more confusing than it should have been!

*INHALE*

I am done.

[sneezingfetishftw-fics]

Why is it Always 1/8 of a Sex Thing?

Blitz and Striker fic is finally up! This is chapter 1, I'll probably do more chapters eventually but it takes a long time cause this is my first time writing fight scenes (hopefully all the googling paid off lol).

Story is set some time after "Oops" (season 2 episode 6) and before "Full Moon" (season 2 episode 8).

Warning: The following fic contains graphic violence, strong language, sexual themes (no explicit sex), as well as rampant messy sneezing... so yes, it's intended for mature audiences.

———————————————————————————

When Blitz opened the door to the warehouse, he locked eyes with a certain cowboy who’d been lying in wait. Blitz’s amused smile met Striker’s menacing grin, and for a moment, neither spoke.

This certainly hadn’t been on Blitz’s agenda for today. No, he was just stopping by to pick up some bullets because IMP’s supplier in Wrath was “understaffed”. Whether that was a ruse or an unfortunate accident, Blitz was beginning to think Striker had something to do with it. Striker bared his teeth, but didn’t attack immediately.

He was savoring the moment, basking in the anticipation. Blitz had defeated him one too many times and he would not stand for this humiliation. This was going to be the end of this stupid fucking feeling of incompetence. Or was it? Until the fight started he was both winner and loser. And he needed to be only a winner. He pulled out his guns, and in an instant Blitz was mirroring the movement.

“You again?” Blitz laughed at the cowboy. “You’re wasting your time, we both know how this ends.” “You don’t know shit,” Striker taunted, lassoing the imp and pulling him closer. Blitz raised an eyebrow. “What, you’re gonna tell me I got it wrong and you’re actually here to make out with me?” Striker growled as Blitz wriggled free of the rope, but before Blitz managed to go anywhere, Striker dipped the point of his tail in some powdery substance and stuck that point up Blitz’s nose.

A split second of confusion flashed across Blitz’s face, quickly replaced with a smug smile. “Ooh, not a commonly chosen hole, I gotta give you points for creativity! But really, if you wanted inside my holes so bad, you coulda just asked!” “You won’t be laughing for much longer. I reckon that stuff should kick in about 3…” Blitz gripped his gun and looked around, no obvious signs of danger. “2…” He did a mental scan of his body, no obvious signs of poison. “1.” “Heh’tsschew!”

Striker smiled, and Blitz rolled his eyes. “Look, I love a good release as much as the next guy, but I’ve got places to be, so let’s wrap this up.” He pulled out his gun and aimed at Striker, but before he could pull the trigger his focus was thrown off. “Hit’schhhue!” The shot went wide, and frustration flashed across his face. Striker chuckled. “Now you’re getting it.” “If by it, you mean fucked in a new hole, then yeah! You know, they say a sneeze is 1/8 of an orgasm. Wanna find out?” He winked. Striker sighed. “Seriously? You’re gonna make this one a sex thing too?” Blitz laughed. “Come on, you should know by now,” he said, aiming his gun again. “I always make it a se… eh… eh’TSCHEW! I always make it a sex thing.” Another missed shot, but this time Blitz didn’t let his smile slip. “I’m 3/8ths of the way there! Aren’t you getting excited?”

“Just shut up and let me capture you already, bootlicker!” “Oh, you wanna add some more kinks in there huh? I hope you know that costs eh… eh… eh… extra,” he said, holding off long enough to actually hit Striker this time. It was only his non-dominant arm, which didn’t seem to deter him much. But still, that was at least closer to target. Wait a minute, what was that about capture?

Blitz felt the lasso pulling him closer again. He was about to try wriggling out when he suddenly had a better idea. “HEH’TSCHIEEEW!” Striker recoiled in disgust as Blitz drenched his face, providing Blitz the opportunity to escape. “What the fuck?” “What, don’t wanna get a little wet? I thought that was the point?” Blitz said, flashing a grin as he leaped away.

His escape was short-lived, however, as he soon found himself frozen in the throes of another sneeze. “Heh’heh’hetschue! Itschh! Hah’tschew! Hit’SHEW!” That was enough time for Striker to tie him up and drop his gun to the ground, so Blitz resorted to his usual methods. “Ohhhhhhhh! Oh God that feels so good! I guess it really is true!” Blitz writhed and moaned underneath the rope.

And honestly? It did kind of feel good. Not the sneezing, necessarily, though he didn’t hate it. But the thrill of the fight. One doesn’t get into the business of assassination without some appreciation for the adrenaline rush. And his opponent had given him a new toy to play with—a challenge. It seemed like a detriment right now, but was there a way he could use it to his advantage? This would be fun.

“I don’t think you’ve had enough,” Striker said, dipping his tail once again. Blitz did a spit take that had far too much actual spit (and snot) for Striker’s liking. Striker shook himself like a wet dog and poked the powder-coated tail into Blitz’s other nostril. Blitz gasped. “Deeper!” Striker pulled out with a glare. “Shut yer trap,” he drawled. “Make me,” Blitz replied, sticking out his tongue. “I already did,” Striker said, his arms crossed. “Heh’tschh! Heh’itschuu! Hah’TSCHIEEEW!” “Kind of hard to talk when you need your breath for something else,” Striker retorted, smirking.

“Ok, are you sure you’re not trying to flirt with me?” Blitz asked. “Cause you seem pretty determined to insert some innue… eh… eh’tschieu! Innuendo.” Striker sighed. “Flirt with you? I’d rather fuck a cactus.” “Ooh, you like it rough, huh?” Blitz was contorting himself in all sorts of positions, trying to find an angle that would let him get at the knife in his boot.

Striker rolled his eyes, which meant his focus was diverted just long enough for Blitz to get that knife out… except it wasn’t there. Fuck! When did he lose his knife? Had Striker somehow taken it when he was distracted? Was Blitz really losing his edge that badly? Ugh, he should have listened to Moxxie’s pitch for the kind of knife that was built into the boot instead of just a pocket. And with that reverie, Blitz had lost his opening. Striker began pummeling him.

One hit for every time Blitz had hurt him. One hit for every time Blitz had wounded his body, or his pride, or… just a lot of hits, okay? And some kicks too while he was at it. He wanted this man bruised and bloody, but just conscious enough to remember how he’d lost. To remember who really was superior. Those rich assholes and the ones who supported them needed to remember their fucking place. Blitz wasn’t worth the dirt he walked on.

Blitz groaned, his mood as dark as the new bruises that were forming. He was going to need a new escape route. As he took in Striker’s ferocious grin, he remembered that sharp teeth could be quite good at cutting things. After a few chomps on the (disturbingly mucus-covered) rope, he realized this wasn’t going to get him out any time soon. Especially given that he had to keep pausing to sneeze. No, he would have to be smarter about this.

“Hey, cowboy! You haven’t seen my knife, have you?” “Oh, you mean this knife?” Striker waved his tail, brandishing the knife with a smirk. “Yeah I’ve seen it alright.” “Thanks!” Blitz replied cheerily, slipping out of his now cut ropes. “What the hell?” “You must be in love with yourself, cause you sure are blind!” Blitz chuckled. He knew he could count on Striker’s ego to overlook the obvious consequences of holding a knife close enough for Blitz to press the rope against it.

No, this wasn’t happening. He was Striker, goddammit! Fearsome assassin and skilled cowboy and whatever other shit that annoying little band liked to sing about him. He didn’t make mistakes. And he wasn’t going to lose! Certainly not to a pathetic little pissbaby like Blitz.

Blitz reached for the knife, but Striker had already backed out of arm’s reach, continuing to put distance between them as he resumed shooting. Blitz picked up his gun in return. The same gun that was trembling with every hitching breath. Fuck. How the hell was he supposed to aim like this? He ducked down for another sneeze, which worked out rather conveniently as another shot from Striker sped through the air where his head had just been.

On second thought, maybe Blitz didn’t need to aim at all - he didn’t need all the shots to hit, just one of them. He tried shooting more rapidly this time. The bullets were coming close, but not close enough. And he still had to keep leaping out of the way and hoping his nose didn’t betray him and give his opponent an opening. That exact betrayal happened a moment later, keeping him frozen for just long enough for a bullet to graze Blitz’s shoulder before he was moving again. Another shot from Blitz missed, but this time it gave him an idea. The shot went just over the top of a crate, one of many in the room.

“If you were half as good at shooting as you were at sucking blue-blood dick, you’d be out of here by now!” Striker sneered. “Pathetic.” “Says the man who had to level the playing field by fu… uh’tschh! Fucking me in the nose,” Blitz retorted, sniffling. This stuff was really strong. “Also, did you just compliment my blowjob skills? Are you sure you’re not hitting on me?” Blitz asked, clambering up the shelves. Striker hissed and continued shooting, but Blitz had squeezed himself in behind a box that proved to be surprisingly bulletproof.

How were Millie and Moxxie getting on? Blitz wondered as he took shelter. He thought back to earlier in the day when he’d told them he was going to pick up the shipment. They’d offered to come with him, but Blitz had insisted it was his job alone as the boss. “Just… stay home and fuck or something,” he’d said. Millie gave Moxxie a look, and Moxxie melted, nodding silently. Blitz hoped they were having fun without him. He’d find a way out of this eventually. He didn’t need anybody else.

Striker grabbed the box with his lasso and pulled, but it was heavier than he’d anticipated and it didn’t quite fall. Taking advantage of this momentary lapse in judgement (and Blitz’s momentary lapse in symptoms), Blitz executed his carefully planned shot. The box may have been invulnerable to penetration, but it was still affected by the momentum of a shot at point-blank range. The box hurtled through the air with alarming speed. Striker was so shocked by the absolute absurdity of it that his reaction was just a hair too slow. He jumped back and narrowly avoided being bludgeoned, but his guns weren’t so lucky.

Blitz chuckled. “I was hoping to crush your body,” he said, leaping down to meet his opponent again, “but crushing your spirit’s not bad, either.” Striker scanned the warehouse. There had to be more guns nearby, if he could just get to a crate…

Sweet victory, with everything I do. With each step he repeated the mantra in his head, trying to make it stick. He was a winner, nothing else. He would succeed. He was almost to a crate and by god, he was going to get those fucking guns.

Just as he took his last step to the crate, Striker felt the slam of Blitz shoving him into the shelving units. The knife dropped out of his tail from the force of the impact and slid across the floor. It seemed grabbing another weapon wasn’t exactly a viable option right now. No, that would have been too easy. But a little challenge would make the victory sweeter, he liked it hard. “I’m sure you do,” Blitz replied. Wait, had he said that last bit out loud?

Any revulsion or embarrassment Striker might have felt was pushed aside by the overwhelming sensation of Blitz pressed against him, wrists clenching with each hitching breath. Striker prepared his head to dodge, in case Blitz tried the same trick again - the cowboy was definitely not looking for a repeat spray.

What he hadn’t expected was for Blitz’s head to pitch so far forward that his horns dug right into Striker’s chest. As he felt his blood mix with mucus, he was seriously beginning to regret his life choices. He cursed his weakness as the disgust kept him paralyzed long enough for Blitz to rake his claws over his arms.

After a long and slimy struggle, Striker finally managed to tear free. Tear was definitely the operative word. Those gashing wounds were nothing to sneeze at (not like that would stop his opponent, though). Much as he wanted to lunge into a counterattack, he needed a moment to lick his wounds. No, not lick - he shuddered at the thought of how that would taste. But he needed to stop the bleeding somehow.

His expression soured even further when he realized what he had to do. He needed to stop the bleeding, and there were limited options available. He flung off his jacket. Blitz gave a long whistle that was cut off abruptly by a vigorous series of sneezes. As the imp tried to clear the irritant from his system, Striker removed his shirt and wrapped it around the wound in his chest. That still left his bleeding arms, though.

“Taking a break, huh?” Blitz taunted. “I knew you wanted to fuck me!” Striker growled, partially in response and partially in dread of what he was about to do. He dropped his pants, and Blitz’s eyebrows rose so high it looked as though they would launch above his head. Was he actually…?

Striker split the pants and wrapped one leg around each arm. Walking out of here at the end of this was going to be awkward. But he had more important things to focus on right now. He ripped open the nearest box in search of a gun, but it was only bullets. And there was no telling how long the powder would last—in his tests it seemed to vary quite a bit from person to person. He’d need to act quickly.

Blitz made a run for his knife, but Striker had gotten a head start. The cowboy pinned him to the floor. That same cowboy who was half naked. “So, did you bring lube or what? Hit’schhew! Never mind, I’ve got enough for both of—” Blitz’s remark was interrupted as Striker’s teeth dug through his neck. He avoided the throat, though. As much as he’d love to kill that bastard, Striker reminded himself that Blitz was of far more use to him alive. And besides, wasn’t the real goal to make his enemy suffer? He would say he was trying to humiliate his opponent, but that was rather hard to do with someone as shameless as Blitz. Still, seeing him helplessly sneeze over and over again did give him a certain sadistic satisfaction.

Striker forced himself to remember that as helpless as Blitz might appear, he was still a skilled opponent. He felt the imp’s body threatening to break free and knew he needed to raise the stakes. Striker stopped playing with his prey and moved the knife to hover over Blitz’s neck. His claws were nearby, ready to stop any attempts at an escape.

Blitz froze, trying to quell the hitching breaths. If his head pitched forward with a sneeze, he would be done for. Surely Striker had realized that, which made this threat an even higher risk. Was Striker genuinely prepared to kill him for this? Something about it just wasn’t sitting right with Blitz. Of course the cowboy had good reason to hate him, but would he really gain more from Blitz’s death than any other outcome? And if not, then why would he take the risk? “Ooh, that’s some nice edge play we’re getting into now! Real kinky today, aren’t we?” He fluttered his eyelashes seductively, but his body took the cue and his breath caught as the tickle he’d been holding back returned with a vengeance. Not yet, please! He just needed to hold out a little longer until Striker got bored or otherwise decided to change tactics.

Striker kept unwavering eye contact with his enemy. Fuck the plan. Fuck the bargaining chip. He wanted this man gone. It would be so easy. He was clearly powerless to escape in his current state. So then why hadn’t he slit Blitz’s throat yet? Why did the very idea feel so hollow? He would be happy to wipe Blitz from existence. But something was missing. Ah, right, the suffering. Death just wasn’t humiliating enough. And the possibilities for capturing Blitz were quite attractive: he could think of at least one person who’d gladly put himself in harm’s way to get his little “Blitzy” back. So, it was settled then.

Just as Striker had made up his mind to let Blitz live, Blitz’s neck got distressingly close to the blade. He could hold back the sneeze no longer, but the result surprised both of them. Instead of a knife coated in blood, Striker was instead holding a knife coated in mucus. Blitz must have taken the time during the buildup to figure out how to aim even with this strange angle. Striker somehow resisted the urge to drop the knife in disgust, but it didn’t matter. The knife was so slippery as to be impossible to control. Blitz leapt up and bit Striker hard in the shoulder. Striker shuddered from the unholy mix as Blitz sneezed directly into the wound. “I hope you get something real nasty, you piece of shit!”

This was not the plan. Goddammit! This was not how this was supposed to go. Blitz should be fully incapacitated by now, or at the very least writhing in agony. Instead, he was making a mockery of Striker. Even in what should have been his most helpless moment, he was continuing to fight back, finding new ways to inflict pain and humiliation.

This was not the plan. Christ on a fucking stick! This was not how he’d wanted his day to go. Blitz should be back at IMP headquarters by now, getting ready to blow humans’ heads off, or at the very least putting the merchandise away. Instead, his nose was making a fool out of him. He wasn’t quite helpless just yet, but his stamina was waning. There was no way he could win a war of attrition in this state, and yet he was grasping at straws to land a decisive blow.

Striker responded with a bite to Blitz’s hand, a decision that filled his mouth with snot and his mind with regret. He spat it out and hissed. “Ooh, somebody’s enjoying the bodily fluids! I got another one I can add to the mix for ya,” Blitz said with a wink as Striker raised his fists. He tried not to dwell on how the effort of smiling was actively draining. Instead he looked for an irritated reaction from Striker, taking that as his opening to flee.

As Blitz raced to the door, his mind replayed the fight. Why the fuck had he been so stubborn? Sure he could hold his own in a typical fight but this wasn’t a typical fight. As much as he’d love to wipe Striker’s smug smile off of his face and take him permanently out of commission, he needed to remember his primary objective: getting the fuck out of here. After all, what good was getting revenge on the one who hurt his friends if Blitz couldn't be there with his friends? So he kept running and running and running… god, this warehouse was huge! He hadn’t even made it out of the room and he felt like his lungs were going to give out. Sure, he was athletic for work, but it’s a bit different when your lungs are constantly focused on taking gasping breaths and forcefully expelling over and over and over again. Eventually, he had to catch his breath.

In the relative silence of his labored breath, his dulled senses picked up on a persistent beeping. He thought back to Crimson’s warehouse with Fizz and his breaths became shallow as panic set in. The realization came too late, for the forklift had already made contact with a shelf. As everything came crashing down, Blitz had one last thought: this sneezing was really fucking annoying.