#i want to see the Marty that almost was

[astonmartinii]

fresh out the slammer [guilty as sin part five] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x sainz!reader

no court cases, no ferrari PR jail... i'm sure nothing will happen, right?

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,289,405 others

tagged: olliebearman, francocolapinto & pepemarti

f1: THERE IT IS!!! The 2025 grid is set with Ollie Bearman at Haas, Franco Colapinto at Williams and Pepe Marti at Sauber.

view all comments

user317: HOLY SHIT

user318: i hate to celebrate someone losing their job in this economy but FUCK THAT MAN WOO HOO WELCOME TO UNEMPLOYMENT CARLOS SAINZ

olliebearman: can't wait to get started (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

user319: when are you going to recruit pepe and kimi to the leclerc family agenda

pepemarti: y/n has been my celeb crush since i was like 13 (sorry charles) so trust me idc about the spanish guy

olliebearman: he fully doesn't play about y/n, he even tries to read poetry (key word being tries)

pepemarti: you can shame me all you like but i think y/n would appreciate the effort

yourusername: you would be correct !

pepemarti: OMG ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

charles_leclerc: i'll take you in if you promise you're over your crush on y/n, it would be very inappropriate

pepemarti: I AM I SWEAR

user320: i know carlos gotta be sick seeing the spanish youngster freak out more about his sister

yourusername: i fear he has bigger fish to fry right now

user321: @carlossainz55 BOO! did i scare you? i'm a job application

user322: being on the internet as a sainz fan gotta be torture at this point

user323: former delusional carlando fan here! he brought this upon himself lol

maxverstappen1: evil may be conquered but these three and kimi look like prime candidates to join the united front of hating

yourusername: we gotta get them started while they're young

charles_leclerc: i fear we don't have enough room in the house for all these kids

francocolapinto: do we really need the aussie?

oscarpiastri: i was here before you ???

yourusername: we can get bunkbeds?

olliebearman: does leo really need him own room

charles_leclerc: WATCH THAT TONE

kimiantonelli: i'm quite small if that helps

yourusername: looks like we have a new favourite

pepemarti: ????????

user324: see? carlos loses his job and suddenly all is good in f1 again... coincidence? i think not.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 1,945,209 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, olliebearman & kimiantonelli

yourusername: and the pieces all fall into place ...

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user326: this is a level of motherism we have yet to see in f1

user327: and mother in a literal sense these ones take her up to like five grid kids and one dog

maxverstappen1: don't erase her cat godson and goddaughter

yourusername: leo is almost fully cat trained ( ≧ᗜ≦)

albonpets: do not even think of coming for our brand

yourusername: which one am i talking to?

albonpets: HORSEY

yourusername: ... okay then

charles_leclerc: seriously?

yourusername: i'm not going to fight a (my favourite) albon cat charles, i may have the sainz last name but i'm NOT carlos

charles_leclerc: it'll be leclerc before you know it

yourusername: (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶)

user328: no because at this point i can fully picture carlos having an argument with a cat

albonpets: we're down to tussle for y/n

user329: i'm dying, carlos lost so bad ALBON PETS ARE SHADING HIM

user330: guys are we ready for monza tho? y/n and charles fully back, the united front of hating back, italy don't play about charles... carlos girl i'd sit this one out it doesn't even matter that you're driving the red car

maxverstappen1: at least it won't be me being booed for once

carlossainz55: i'm not a bitch. if people want to boo me they'll only expose themselves as sheep

oscarpiastri: BAAAA

olliebearman: BAAAA

francocolapinto: BAAAA

kimiantonelli: BAAAA

pepemarti: BAAAA

charles_leclerc: parenthood is so precious

carlossainz55: you think i care that these little runts like you guys? they'll be out the sport faster than your other little pet american

logansargeant: at least i'm pretty

francocolapinto: sorry i can't hear you over my williams seat - you really thought that was gonna be yours huh 🤔

user331: obsessed with how carlos has just resorted to name calling because his only 'ammunition' against y/n is that she always wanted to marry charles and didn't want to work

user332: if that's illegal LOCK ME UP BABY

yourusername: they nearly did 😭

user332: oh yeah my bad g

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 4,398,400 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: fresh out the slammer

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user333: LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO

francocolapinto: VAMOSSSSSS

user334: this was actually insanely poetic, ferrari i'm still angry at you but thank you for this genius strategy

user335: today you are excused, tomorrow we go back to hating

user336: the north remembers

yourusername: never in doubt starboy - i love you, you deserve this so much

charles_leclerc: i love you more, this win is for you after everything we've been through

yourusername: you're too sweet - it's all you baby and the win is all yours, my prize is being. yours

charles_leclerc: so glad we could have all of our REAL family around us today

yourusername: i love you all ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oscarpiastri: i guess if there's anyone to lose to here, it would be my grid dad

francocolapinto: if you don't want the P2 i'll gladly take it off of your hands

yourusername: okay babies let's calm down and celebrate that we ALL scored points today

olliebearman: thanks mum and dad

pepemarti: did you guys see my F2 podium (๑>◡<๑)?

charles_leclerc: we did!

yourusername: well done pepe :3

pepemarti: hehehehehehheheheheehehehe

maxverstappen1: oh boy got out of ferrari jail and now we're ALL being subjected to the conjugal visits

charles_leclerc: stay outta my business

maxverstappen1: BROTHER 4 MILLION PEOPLE IN YOUR BUSINESS

yourusername: and four million people know my man is off limits

yourusername: @carlossainz55 stop paying instagram models to flirt with my man

charles_leclerc: @carlossainz55 what money are you using for this i had to close my DMs

user337: HE'S PAYING INSTAGRAM MODELS TO TRY AND FLIRT WITH CHARLES THE VERY GUY WHO HAD HIS CHILDHOOD RIVAL DELIVER LOVE LETTERS WHEN HIS PHONE WAS TAKEN ???

oscarpiastri: we never said carlos was smart

f1tea

liked by user339, user340 and 11,943 others

f1tea: the ramifications of the sainz civil war may be a lot worse than previously feared. carlos sainz does not have a seat for the 2025 f1 season and doesn't look like he'll be chosen for a reserve role either with bridges with red bull firmly burnt. however, one of the biggest effects of this 'war' has been on those who still choose to associate with carlos. it's been reported that mclaren have had to turn down a number of sponsors after they asked that it is only run on oscar's car and that lando norris is not seen with the brand. do you think we'll see lando jump ship from carlos or will mclaren become a safehaven for sainz?

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user341: mclaren? a safe haven for carlos sainz? the same mclaren that houses the first child of y/n and charles? i'd like to see them try

user342: finally the carlando PR spin is dead

user343: they way they both thought that was their ultimate get out of jail free card and now it's like incriminating

user344: isn't this all getting a little petty now? like y/n and charles are together and carlos doesn't have a seat? what's the point of keeping all of this drama going?

user345: tbf this 'drama' was never going away the moment they exposed themselves for trying to use their daughter/sister as bait to further carlos' career

user346: if that wasn't downright criminal then unlawfully suing your daughter/sister for everything she rightfully earnt WAS

user347: yeah just because 55 fans and the sainzs themselves want to bury that loss doesn't mean it's not like one of the first things that come up when. you google carlos - of course sponsors are not gonna want ANYTHING to do with that

user348: poor lando getting caught in the petty crossfire

user349: i mean he was shit slinging at y/n after austria and that girl has levels of voodoo only taylor swift can better

user350: he's also a grown man who has seen this all go down behind the scenes so he's made his bed and has to lie in it

user351: the way the sponsors are just piling up for charles as well karma really is doing a number right now

user352: his charm is so universal that oscar is becoming one of the most marketable drivers as well

user353: no but as someone who was on the ground at monza, it's BAD like people were wearing their sainz merch with the 55 or spanish flag covered up

user354: oh he got them acting like middle aged football fans it's BAD

user355: at least they haven't started burning stuff yet

user356: if he takes out charles i fear it won't take long

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,452,097 others

yourusername: my new poetry and letter collection, the alchemy, is out today and you guys already made it a new york times bestseller. my heart is so full! the last couple months made me feel like i would never get to love so thank you for showing me that everything is possible x

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user357: ma'am i am in love with you

user358: get in line buddy

charles_leclerc: i will run all of you over

maxverstappen1: thank you for the dedication, it was a traumatic time for us all

yourusername: you simply could've not read my private letters to my lover?

maxverstappen1: and where's the fun in that?

yourusername: a pigeon wouldn't have done this to me...

maxverstappen1: yeah well a pigeon also hasn't been your best friend for years and doesn't have a couch and cats to comfort you

yourusername: you make a good point

user359: she's really out here making me believe in love

charles_leclerc: the most talented woman in the world, i'm blessed to be on the receiving end of such words

yourusername: writing is so much easier with a muse like you

charles_leclerc: you're making me blush

user360: sure if my boyfriend was a greek god i'd also write good poetry

charles_leclerc: no you couldn't, not like her

yourusername: (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

lewishamilton: congratulations y/n, what an achievement! however, i do think the real achievement here is getting this grid to read a book

georgerussell63: excuse me?

alexalbon: ... you got me but i wanted the tea ☕️

charles_leclerc: APPRECIATE THE POETRY PEOPLE

alexalbon: funny how the letters were back and forth... but none of yours made it to the book

yourusername: ALEX :(

charles_leclerc: i didn't want my sad ramblings to drag down her shine - i thought you would get that seeing how bad you are at golf compared to lily

lilymunhe: oop.

user361: where are the children

yourusername: eating my cake :(

maxverstappen1: they're actually being really cute and are all sat in a circle reading it (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

charles_leclerc: gotta make sure they can read none of us finished school

f1

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 2,309,450 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & carlossainz55

f1: LAST LAP SHUNT! Carlos Sainz takes Max Verstappen out in baku and the two did not mince their words on the radio

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user363: not to be dramatic but that's lowkey attempted murder

user364: at this point carlos is trying to ACTUALLY recreate that list of crimes meme

user365: let's get his ass in JAIL then

oscarpiastri: if i speak i'm in big trouble

carlossainz55: speak it big man - if you wanna act like a big guy back it up

oscarpiastri: okay you are a narcissistic misogynist who can't bear being told no. you are a talented man but without your name you would be nowhere but you lack the selfawareness to be grateful for where you are which is why you don't have a job. you are reckless and dangerous and the very few friends you have will drop you when you no longer serve a purpose in f1

user366: oh shit babe came out swinging

oscarpiastri: i'm hearing a lot of CRICKETS?

oscarpiastri: exactly - pussy.

user367: thank you franco colapinto for bringing back drivers with zero media training

user368: once again i am asking for proximity chat in f1

user369: the sweet souls on twitter would NOT be able to handle it

yourusername: bro tried to assassinate my best friend but i'm the problem

carlossainz55: stop being so dramatic, if anyone was to purposely hurt someone it would be max - look where he came from

yourusername: first of all FUCK YOU

yourusername: second of all, max is stronger than you ever will be, how dare you try and use his childhood against him when you know he's nothing but a gentle soul

yourusername: thirdly, by this logic the reason i'm such a 'gold-digging back-stabbing whore' is because of YOU GUYS

user370: i am absolutely losing it at the fact that carlos is furiously typing these at the fia HQ

user371: i know his PR officer is TIRED

francocolapinto: sorry our uncle got sniped but we did also get points @olliebearman

olliebearman: JUST TO SAY WE WENT TO SEE MAX AND HE IS OKAY BUT YES THANK YOU FOR THE POINTS

yourusername: guys lets keep the inside thoughts inside

francocolapinto: so you're not proud of us (╹ -╹)?

yourusername: I AM, I AM, WE ARE (charles is on the podium he'll tell you later)

francocolapinto: ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

olliebearman: ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,387,300 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: i lived bitch

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user372: they're gonna have to do a little more than that to take down the united front of hating

user373: 50g can't stop the grind for these dudes

maxverstappen1: i would call that man a bitch with my last breath

user374: them celebrating the end of carlos' career by doing a mukbang is killing me

user375: when the funeral food be good as fuck you be forgetting who died

carlossainz55: you guys really are so pathetic

maxverstappen1: i didn't try to pimp out my sister, make her homeless then sue her but that might just me be

maxverstappen1: also the data will prove what we all know btw

carlossainz55: that you're reckless just like your daddy?

maxverstappen1: at least i can admit my dad is an asshole and i distanced myself, your dad is just as much a bitch but you gotta parade him around because no one else can bear being around you

carlossainz55: the only bad thing my dad ever did in his life is help bring the spawn of satan into the world

maxverstappen1: whatever, enjoy your race ban bozo

user376: is max suggesting ... it was on purpose

user377: if it was carlos might just be as dumb as they all say because fool was about to get a podium

yourusername: THEY CAN'T GET RID OF US BITCH

maxverstappen1: you're a sick motherfucker if you're enjoying this sainz disasterclass well i only just got out of the medical centre 🤧🤧🤧

charles_leclerc: no but deadass we're sorry you got taken out

maxverstappen1: someone had to be the mercutio to you people's romeo and juliet

maxverstappen1: PLEASE DO NOT KILL YOURSELVES AFTER I'VE GONE THROUGH ALL THIS SHIT FOR YOU

yourusername: we can't leave you with all these kids

charles_leclerc: yeah that's a lot of kids to inherit

user378: christian horner i hate you but you gotta get on your zoom

oscarpiastri: where's my congratulations 🤨

maxverstappen1: @yourusername @charles_leclerc yeah you can keep your kids

charles_leclerc: we're proud of you oscar (don't beat me again)

yourusername: well done oscar (your verbal takedown was particularly impressive as well)

oscarpiastri: 🤭🤭🤭

fin

note: lol i'm back. i was busy with work and then in hospital. but we all love guilty as sin? will get to tagging soon one sec

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you. 

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

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

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile. 

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that. 

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

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

Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely. 

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now. 

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns." 

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now. 

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day. 

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

"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

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

I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[pha55ed]

You and I | F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type ::fluff tw/cw :: fem!reader for all :( contains :: kimi!, ollie, paul, pepe request :: you and i w kimi ollie paul & pepe plsss (literally my top 4 drivers LOLL im surprised by how many f2 requests there are) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Being one of the only girls in F2 meant that you were basically shipped with everyone on the grid, no matter if you ever talked to them. It was odd, but you expected all the ships to die down eventually, which most did. Except one ship: you and Kimi. It made sense, since you both are teammates after all.

Kimi doesn't know how to react to the shipping. Because on one hand, he knows it's inappropriate since you're teammates but on the other hand, he has a huge crush on you so he doesn't really mind it. So he's stuck in the middle, not sure what to do when asked anything about you.

When people ask him things like, "Have you seen the (Y/N) x Kimi fans?" or "Have you considered dating (Y/N)?" he just awkwardly laughs. Which is the worse option he could have done, since it just fueled the fanbase even more because he wasn't outright denying it.

But, he might have planned that: since he does love seeing all the edits of you two together :)

Ollie Bearman | 87

Since he's one of the most popular F2 drivers, he's already experienced being shipped with other people often. But usually he's shipped with boys, and he's comfortable with his sexuality to not get offended by the shipping since he knows he's not gay. The only issue now with being shipped with you is 1. you're a girl, 2. he does like you.

Whenever he's asked about you, he gets slightly flustered. It's clear to many that he might have a crush on you, but thanks to his delusional fan girls (I'm one of them) they spam Twitter and Instagram stating that you're just platonic soulmates with Ollie.

But Ollie is secretly basking in the ship edits of you and him. He doesn't want to be your platonic soulmate, he just wants to be your soulmate, period. Since he scrolls online so often to keep feeding his crush on you, he accidentally likes one of the ship edits.

This sends twitter into a meltdown, tons of moms and teen girls sobbing over Ollie basically confirming that he likes you. But thankfully, they gaslight themselves into thinking he thought it was a platonic edit. He knew damn well what he liked, but he's not allowed to say anything since it's a risk for PR and contracts - having two drivers date each other can get messy so fast. But he'd be ready to risk it all for you.

Paul Aron | 17

He's surprisingly bashful about the ships of you two, it's cute to watch him turn slightly pink in the ears and cheek at the mention of your ship name. Whenever he's asked about you, he can't help but try and lead the interviewer on - yet never give them a full answer of your relationship.

Your team won't allow you two to date, due to the high stakes and PR damage it would do. Especially since you're both so sought after - Paul being wanted by every girl, and you being wanted by every boy. But Paul didn't care for any girl besides you, you're all he wants and he's determined to get you. Most likely by dating under the table, hiding it from the world.

Whenever interviewers ask him things about his love life, he always hints that he has his eye on someone. Or whenever he's blantanlty asked about you, he can't help but smile a little and give a cheeky shrug, since he can't speak much on the matter.

As your teammate, he does try to flirt with you - but not in a douchebag way. Which is surprisingly, since his Instagram posts and friends scream frat-boy, he's different from them. He tries to take it slow with you, not wanting to scare you away by being seeming like a weirdo or asshole in any way.

Pepe Marti | 21

Being shipped with you made him happy and he's unable to hide that. He's naturally super smiley, so when he hears your name - it's almost as if you can see his tail wag at the mention of you. Just like a puppy, he has major puppy-love for you.

But he tries his best to not feed into the ships due to it going against the contracts and policies in place. His face just can't hide it though, he's grinning ear to ear when asked if he would ever date you. Only for him to reply, "Only if I got the chance to :)"

Basically: he makes your PR team work overtime to ensure the audience that you two are JUST friends. But it's hard to do when Pepe straight up tries to hold your hand in the paddock. Or when he posts on Instagram that you're visiting his family for dinner.

Thankfully, the PR are great at manipulating the public to believe you two are just friends - which you are technically,,, but you both know you're so much more than that.

[flaggermuser]

They Took My Sunshine Away

1,146 words || Fluff, Spoilers for Season 4 Episode 4, Hurt/Comfort, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Childhood Trauma, Parent & Child Relationship, Parent & Child Attachment, Codependency, Platonic Love ||

The first two Tawny fics: When You Loved Me & Home Is Where His Heart Is

A/N: The general consensus for Tawny is that they are a woman but I will continue to write them as gender neutral

Thank you to @hom3landr for being my beta

Homelander wakes with a start, sitting up and trembling, breathing fast in panic. He was back in the incinerator again, watching all the scientists while he cried and screamed from the pain.

Warm hands cup his cheeks, trying to ground him and he looks at you through blurry eyes.

“You're okay, you're okay. It was just a bad dream. You're here in my house, in the bed in the spare room.”

He nods slowly, the information slowly working through the swirling thoughts dominating his mind until it properly sinks in, bringing a sense of calm.

Your hands fall away from his face once you see that he's settled, taking his hands and squeezing tight. You've come to his aid just like you did when he was a child.

A parent comforting their son.

“I killed them.”

The words slip out before he can stop them, admitting to only one of his many crimes but one that was relevant to you. He searches your eyes for a reaction, fully expecting you to demand that he leave and never darken your door again.

“You were going to kill me too.”

It’s a statement, not a question - as if you’ve resigned yourself to the truth before he can confirm or deny it. He wants to hang his head in shame but he can’t, his eyes fixated on your face, trying to prepare himself for your reaction.

“It wasn’t a coincidence that you showed up at my door,” your tone is indistinguishable. “It was only a matter of time.”

You knew. You knew why I was here but you still let me in.

“Vogelbaum, Edgar, Barbara. One had to be careless enough to leave the tiniest scrap of information about me. Usually, all records would have been scrub-”

“There was an old file,” he interjects, cutting you off. “They’d probably forgotten to destroy it.”

You hum a thoughtful yet morose noise, only adding further to Homelander’s anxiety. He’d lost you once, had you almost completely erased from his memory but now that he’s found you again, he won’t let you go.

He can’t.

“Frank? Marty?” You start to list various names, only for him to nod in response. “Barbara?”

“I left her alive,” he hesitates, scared to reveal the details. “I locked her in that room, with what was left of them.”

You tighten your grip on his hands, your jaw tight and eyes downcast. You lick your lips, clearly preparing to say something but with each second you remain silent, his chest tightens, making it uncomfortable for him to breathe.

“What did she say to you?”

“That you… all of you. That you were all scared of me, from the moment I was born.”

You’re looking him in the eye and it feels like you’re looking straight into his soul.

“I was never scared of you John,” the words are laced with honesty, spoken with conviction. “You were just a little boy. If you hurt me, hell, if you even killed me back in the lab, it would only have been in self-defence.”

Your grip is like a vice, not uncomfortable or painful to him - it’s as if you refuse to let go just in case you lose him again.

He swallows, “She said that I could have broken out of there anytime I wanted, that they couldn’t have stopped me. That I stayed because I couldn’t stand the idea that they’d all be disappointed in me. My need for approval and love.”

You’re trembling now, he can hear your heart beating a mile a minute. He can see it, written all over your face. You’re upset but differently - you’re angry, even more than that, you’re furious.

This is pure unbridled rage.

“That fucking bitch,” you seethe. “You stayed because you couldn’t stand the idea that they’d all be disappointed in you? That entire lab was built to withstand a nuclear blast and, in that room, there was damage around the door where you tried to punch your way out. There was no way you could escape.”

It all boils over, your body slumped as the dam breaks, the tears you’ve kept inside for what must have been years spill forth, cascading down your cheeks and neck, dripping onto the duvet beneath you. 

“I should have taken you.”

Now it’s his turn to comfort you as he pulls you into a hug, trying his best not to crush you with his strength but wanting to hold you tight enough so you can truly understand how much you mean to him.

“Oh John, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

He's heard those words fall from your lips so many times yet they've not lost their sincerity. Every time, you seem more genuine in your regret.

This is your penance.

“Can you stay with me? Not until I fall asleep, for the whole night. I don't want to dream about the lab again.”

“Of course I can.”

He releases you and you get into bed, lying back with your head on the pillow and arms open, allowing him to cuddle up to you.

His head is pressed to your chest and, although he can hear your heartbeat from a mile away, hearing it up close unlocks a memory.

Sitting on your lap, his head against your chest while you wrapped him up in your arms, singing to him as you rocked him.

The gentle beating of your heart then, as it does now, soothes him, and reminds him of how safe he is with you — a security blanket in human form.

He almost wants to ask for you to return to the Tower with him, to live permanently in his penthouse where you'll always be within easy reach. 

But it's a huge ask - you'd be uprooting your life, leaving everything you've ever known to start anew back at the company that fired you for caring about a scared little boy. Yet there’s something comforting about knowing that he can just turn up at any time of the day and play pretend, that instead of growing up in a lab, he grew up in this house with you.

He grew up with someone who loved him.

“I’ve missed you so much,” your voice breaks, prompting him to cuddle closer. “You have no idea how happy I was to see you again. It was like I was given a second chance, to be there for you, to love you like my own son.”

Like my own son.

That confirms that you feel the same as he does, that the love between you is strictly platonic, the love between a parent and a child.

“I love you, Tawny.”

“I love you too, John.”

You were my sunshine, my only sunshine

You made me happy when I was afraid

They must have known then, just how much you loved me.

So they took my sunshine away.

[httpiastri]

sunrise serenity – jmm21

your first morning with pepe, after your first night together...

genre: fluff + a little little suggestive

pairing: reader x pepe marti

warnings: hmmmm a few suggestive mentions but that's it i think

word count: 1.3k (like, exactly 1300.... kinda freaky actually)

requested: again not rlly lol but there have been asks abt more pepe stuff soooo :)

author's note: hehe a little more pepe love <33 idk thinking about waking up and seeing his gorgeous tanned back- 😶 it makes me freak a little ngl. anyway. hope u all have a lovely weekend <3 also i *just* realized that i forgot to use any spanish in this lol hope u still enjoy :)

f2/f3 masterlist

‎‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎

the room is so light, way too light, when your eyes finally flutter open. keeping them open is a constant battle, with the rays of sunlight peeking past the blinds stinging like you're staring straight into the sun itself. you just want to roll around and bury your face into the pillow underneath you, but something about the feeling of the pillow against your skin feels unfamiliar... and that's when you realize.

right. this isn't your own bed, or your own apartment – it's pepe's.

your eyes are fully open by now, butterflies waking up in the pit of your stomach as they roam across the room. seeing a pile of your boyfriend's clothes folded up on a nearby chair, the pictures of his family and friends hung up on the walls, all of the other little quirks that just scream pepe; it's all so unfamiliar, yet so comforting and heartwarming.

this isn't your first time being in this room, but it's the first time you see it in this light. the first time you wake up in this bed, the first time you're in his room at this hour of the day. you and pepe have been dating for a few months now, and you've been planning for the first time you stay overnight in his apartment for quite a while. last night, it was finally time – and you've probably never had as good of a night's sleep before in your life. from the fact that he cooked you a very fancy dinner, to the way that his fingers danced across your skin when you lied next to him in bed; everything was just perfect. and going grocery shopping together, helping each other clean the dishes, brushing your teeth side by side…

it was hard not to imagine what it would feel like to spend all your days like this. it all became so real, so domestic, and you never want to go back.

the sound of pans clinging together along with a quiet swear reaches your ears and you can't help but let out a chuckle, finally pushing yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed. you reach for the first piece of clothing you can see, which turns out to be the oversized shirt pepe wore last night, and you pull it over your head before rising from the bed. your body is still a bit sore, but the sweet aroma of pancakes meeting your nose gives you the energy to keep going.

you stop in your tracks when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror right by pepe's bedroom door – or, more exactly, the sight of your neck.

the trail of lovebites your boyfriend left stretches from your jaw and down under the collar of your shirt, and you know you'd be met by many more if you looked underneath it. the artwork is so mesmerizing that you have to shake your head to bring yourself out of your trance, slightly embarrassed by the way your stomach flips just at the sight of some hickeys.

when you eventually make your way into the kitchen and your eyes land on your boyfriend, you almost swoon. the sight of him from behind is just gorgeous; his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his tanned, broad back practically calling out for you to come and kiss it. you're not sure if he's heard your footsteps or if he can just sense your presence, but pepe shifts slightly after a few moments. "good morning."

"good morning," you cheer back, beginning to stroll over to him. when he looks over his shoulder and takes in the sight of you, the way the hem of his shirt reaches the middle of your thigh and your slightly messy bedhead, a little laugh slips past his lips. your eyebrows pinch together. "what?"

"nothing," he says, arm wrapping around your shoulders once you reach his side. "you're just cute, that's all."

you coo playfully at him, hand reaching up to cup the side of his face before getting on your tippytoes. pepe meets you halfway, lips sealing against yours with ease.

"slept well?" he asks when you pull apart, his hand dropping down to your hip and pulling you in closer. his other hand works on flipping the pancake in the pan, a hint of a smile on his lips as if he already knows the answer.

"really well. you?"

pepe nods before leaning his head against yours. "you were out like a light yesterday," he says with another chuckle. "i swear, the second your head hit the pillow..."

you let out a groan. "i'm sorry."

"no, don't apologize!" he interjects immediately. "we had a long day. you looked so peaceful, it was adorable." he pulls his head away, looking down at you with a grin. "seeing that calm side of you was interesting, honestly. it's a far cry from how you are when you're awake, i'll tell you that."

"hey!"

your exclaim is followed by a press of your elbow into his side, which he answers with a quick kiss to your temple. you wriggle out of his embrace, to which his eyebrows shoot up – but when he watches you push yourself up to sit atop the counter next to the stove, legs dangling from the edge and feet swinging in the air, he relaxes again.

pepe places the pancake on a plate by your side, before pouring a thin layer of batter into the pan. "do you usually have pancakes for breakfast?" you tease, biting back the smile that wants to spread across your lips when your boyfriend's free hand lands on your knee.

he shakes his head, thumb drawing circles into your skin while he spreads the batter out evenly in the pan. "i wish." there are a few moments of silence before he turns to you, a slight smirk on his face. "though, i know something i'd rather have for breakfast every morning..."

tender fingers brush a few strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear before resting right below your jaw as pepe leans in, nose nudging yours to draw out a giggle from you. and then he kisses you, his smile pressed against yours as your eyes flutter closed. your hands come up to rest on his shoulders, the feeling of his warm skin and the strong muscles beneath it sending a shiver down your spine.

pepe tastes faintly of toothpaste with just a hint of sweetness, as if he's already had a sample of a pancake. when his lips part, yours follow his lead, and you can't help the sound that leaves the back of your throat as he licks into your mouth. your arms wrap around his neck for stability and his hands reach for your waist, pulling you forward and into him.

when his kisses begin to travel along your cheek, your legs wrap around him almost out of habit. you sigh, the way his lips move down the side of your neck making your head spin. but your skin is still so sensitive, and the little whine that escapes from your mouth has him pulling back. he blinks down at you, but it doesn't take long before he understands.

one of his fingers traces along the marks he's left down your neck, a content and proud smile on his lips. "i'm sorry," he says, though you both know there's no sincerity in the apology.

"don't be, they look good," you start, leaning forward to seal your lips again. "and they felt really good, too."

the groan that vibrates from his chest has you smiling against him yet again. "you can't just say that. you're gonna have to stay over way more often now."

"deal."

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 3

Little birdie got caught. Konig is simply too excited to let you go. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 AO3

TW for the chapter: Light blood and gore, dead bodies, mentions of drugs, spanking, kidnapping

— Those fucking bastards killed Karen! Don’t you care?! 

Shouting at your friends was never your forte, but you expected that it would come out at some point in your unwilling journey, You never knew it would because of the psycho killers on the loose, wanting nothing more but to make a nice set of decorations from your bones and eat your liver. 

You try to scream some senses into Chad’s tough skull but, just like his name suggests, this is a useless endeavor and you would be far better off running for your life, abandoning your friends, and hoping that killers would be satisfied without your sacrifice. But, you’re too nice. But, you have a bleeding heart and a death wish – and you feel guilty over not feeling guilty that Karen is dead. This is a new, overwhelming feeling for you, the one that almost revamps your whole essence. There are changes occurring, and you would rather die than acknowledge those changes. 

— Listen to me, goddamnit! We’re all going to die! 

You must be looking horrible – mouth covered in blood like you just ate a bunch of raw meat, smelling of dirt and fresh guts, hands shaking and your face resembling the horror mixed with anger – even Marty is surprised to see the resident mouse behave like this. God, even you are surprised to see just how horrified you look, screaming at them in the hope of saving at least someone. 

Marty drops a hand over your shoulders, pulling you to the side. You try to resist, but his clanky figure is surprisingly grippy and strong – you are being pulled to the nearest tree branches, just out of the range of the group. You spend the previous few hours trying to find them and yell some senses into their heads – and the only thing that they advised is that you should stop drinking for today and that stealing pills from Marty’s stash isn’t very nice even if he kinda doesn’t care where his junk goes. Still, you are fucking trembling. 

Marty pushes you to the tree, whispering in your ear – you feel his hot, deranged breath on the side of your face, making you wince. Even compared to the killer’s smell of sweat and blood, they still were nicer to be around than Stale-Beer-And-Cheap-Weed-Breath Marty. 

— Hey. Heeeeey, doll, what was happening back there? 

— Karen is…

— Nah-nah-nah, this is where you should shut up, yeah? Karen isn’t dead. I mean, I’m glad you think she is, it means my prank is fucking awesome. 

Prank? Her fucking head was chopped off and then tossed over to the nearest creek when the shorter killer decided that he wants you to perform a blowjob on his knife, making sure that you are licking all the blood away. You don’t think that there are ways to fake this – and if there are, then your friends and their hired goons are no better than actual killer psychos anyway and you’d still want out. 

— I saw her! 

— Sure you did, hon. Listen, I’m really glad you were the first to notice and everything, but keep it down for now, yeah? I have this sick mask and I was actually planning to prank the group later at night, but if you found it first…

— Prank?! There are two actual killers on the loose, this is the worst time to do pranks! — God, you’re annoying. This is why I fucking asked Jenny not to invite you. There are no killers, alright? Karen agreed to partake in the prank, so she is hiding somewhere in the forest until I’d pull out that sick knife and fucking scare everyone shitless. You were probably hallucinating from booze. 

— I saw her severed head!

— Sure you did. Listen – you can help me, yeah? Just rile everyone up a little, then you will come back and say that…hmmmm…that Marty was taken! Everyone panicking, screaming, crying, and then I show up with this big-ass knife and…

You never heard the last of his amazing, perfect, simply brilliant idea – because before he could finish it, his head was impaled with…oh, no. No-no-no, you can’t do this anymore, not so soon after Karen is dead, not when you are still shaking and can barely think straight not when you are far away from others because Marty fucking led you to another secured place just to get his stupid head impaled with a fucking crossbow bolt – something that you only saw in video games or historical dramas. 

This was completely silent – the quiet music of the bolt flying through the air, a small grunt that escaped Marty’s lips before he fell to the ground beneath your feet. You didn’t even manage to see from what direction this thing came from, too disoriented to observe the world around you properly. You feel the adrenaline running up again, probably breaking the record for you in the whole year – you jump from the body on the ground, tears dwelling in your eyes. You can’t do it, you can’t do it, you won’t do it, you were never a fighter, the freeze-fight-flight instinct always coming up to curling down in a small ball and sucking on your thumb. 

Some people are simply not built for survival – this is a natural order, something that Darwin was talking about. Soft, weak humans are meant to die, meant to be the food for stronger predators, for monsters dwelling in the shadows. Some creatures are never meant to exist – fleshy cute creatures, the ones that melt at the slightest touch, someone like you – when your first answer to a threat is to roll on your back and show your belly to a mountain lion, you just knew that evolution never meant for you to live past the crib. And yet, civilisation allowed you to survive. To thrive even, before you were put in this fucking forest. 

You run before everything else can kick in – at least some of your instincts are working properly, adrenaline running through your veins as you are leaving Marty behind, not even bothering to check if he is still breathing or not. The man was never thinking with his head – not the upper one anyway – but you doubt that he would survive a bolt shot perfectly between his eyes, separating his brain in two perfect halves. Like a fucking apple. 

You ran 

 ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎   ‎‎      ‎    and you ran ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎  ‏‏‎  ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎      and you ran some more

And you ran right into his chest. 

Wall of muscles, no less – you aren’t even sure if this is a human’s body, too sturdy and hard and perfect to belong to something less of a Roman statue. You feel tears running down your face, panic not even bothering to settle in – you know you would be dead in the next few moments, brain tragically easy saying goodbye to being intact. A pathetic sob escapes your throat as you are caught for the second time in this night – lady luck might be smiling upon you the first time, but you doubt you can be her favorite for long. 

— I thought the rule of escaping was to run away from danger. 

This is the tall killer – low voice, secured by the mask, making it almost unrecognizable. You shake as a big, glowed hand goes on your back, laying there heavily. Even more pathetic sounds are produced from your lips, and you are almost ready to beg him for a quick, painless death – his hand is big enough to cover your head and you don’t want to think of the implications that he might crush your skull with just his fingers. 

König listens to your sobs, doing nothing but keeping a firm hand on your back, securing you in place. You sob and whine and tremble in his hold – and he was never more hard in his life. What an adorable, pathetic little creature you are. Helpless in his hold – even squirrels can fight, scratching and biting. You were sobbing in his hold like the perfect kleine prey you are, and he could almost pretend this was a hug. 

— Tshhh, Hase, don’t cry. I won’t be able to let you go if you’d proceed with those sweet noises, ja? 

His revelation only makes you squirm more. You finally try to get out of his bear-like hug – only to realize that all of your little movements and struggles fit perfectly with the enormous, pulsating bulge in his pants that can probably be considered a murder weapon on its own and shouldn’t be concealed since this is an obvious threat to…ah, on second thought, running around from a serial killer who has his monstrous dick hanging out would be worse. Much, much worse. 

— Let me go! 

You squirm one of your hands, punching his chest. Feels like punching a marble statue – the only thing you are hurting is your own hands. You try to resolve to a different form, jerking up your knee to land a blow on his crotch. 

He fucking moans. 

— Never knew you were such a fighter, Schatz. But I warned you, aren’t I? 

You don’t understand what he is talking about before he suddenly lifts you in his hands, dropping you on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. You are crying, trying to get away, [unching him with your legs and your hands, all the adrenaline in your veins working solely for the purpose of inflicting as much pain on this enormous figure as possible. 

You tug on this weird hood he is wearing – if you are going to die, at least you would die exhausting all possible options, not feeling like you gave up without a fight. This is still a journey of self-respect and deep insight searches for the mysteriously hidden backbone of your body – maybe, yoga classes would be more effective and less dangerous but, unfortunately, you’re not a rich white housewife in her thirties, so not like you have money for a guru who would spend hours trying to convince your ovaries to stop dying on the inside. 

— Let! 

You punch him on the back, a multitude of well-served punches right into his back. He laughs, spreading his shoulders, cocking his chest forward like you were giving him a massage. With a groan, you made a very deliberate punch right in the middle of his back – and he moans from satisfaction, probably releasing some pent-up tension that he got from killing grandmas and destroying hotels. 

— Me! 

You tried to kick him in the chest, your legs working overtime as you cosplayed a rabid rabbit – only for him to laugh even more, his arm securing you holstered across his shoulder like your punches meant nothing. They probably didn’t – he is literally still holding a fucking crossbow in his other hand, managing to secure it on his side while moving towards…you only assume it to be a murder cabin because of course those freaks would have a murder cabin, why the hell not – probably with some cool classy furniture made out of bones. 

— Go! You finally manage to secure hold on the edge of his hood, yanking it upwards in hopes of actually revealing who the fuck is he – a dirty businessman who doesn’t like those damn kids and their dog to ruin his plans for burning down the forest to create a shopping mall? A nice old man who showed you the road when you were lost, but he is actually on a spree to get revenge on all young people for killing his pet chicken in 1997? One of those creepy guys at the corner store who was weirdly obsessive over you, talked like a serial killer, and was constantly and also came in pair with the guy whose height and manner perfectly resembled a pair of killers that are after you now? 

Probably the grandpa. 

You yank the mask up and…

Ah. 

Of course, he is wearing a freaking balaclava. The only thing that you managed to see were his eyes – blue, icy, pretty, filled with anger as he pulled the hood down, concealing his features again, without you even managing to take a closer look. You gulp loudly, preparing to die. 

He smacks your ass with a power that would be enough to break a bone – your only saving grace is that the flesh of your butt provided some cushion, instead leaving a nasty bruise and inability to sit for at least a few days. That is if you would even survive long enough to have problems sitting on your backside. You won’t have such problems if you’re dead, right? 

— Quiet, Schatz. I already breaking the rule for taking you too early. 

— Br…breaking a rule? Do you have a freaking hunting pact? 

— I promised Tiger that we’d let you roam around a little. Make things interesting. 

Ah, yes, because letting you go the first time was such a brilliant idea on their behalf. The only reasons you didn’t go straight to the police is because A) You don’t speak rural Austrian German, B) Your phone can’t connect to anything, and C) You don’t even know in what part of the forest you are. Also because you’re scared that the police are going to turn out treacherous people, just like in horror movies, and that it would fucking destroy your trust. 

— I can roam around. I can roam around just fucking perfect, ass…

Another loud smack on your ass makes you feel like a misbehaving kitten. He grips your ass through your jeans and you whimper a little bit, starting to cry again as his hand goes straight for the bottom, gripping your cunt through the tough layer of denim. You thank every god you know for making you wear ugly, but protective and thick jeans. Every time his hand goes to cup your most intimate parts, the fabric of your jeans protects it – you don’t even feel too violated when he pushes his fingers even more, desperately trying to get a reaction out of you. 

— Language, Hase. Don’t make me discipline you, ja? — Fuck you! — Very gut then. That’s what you will do very soon.

Oh, but the rough material grinding over your delicate, thin panties and the sensitivity of your cunt really makes you feel…something. You won’t want to admit it, he smells like blood and sweat(still better than Marty, but you shut down that thought before it was born because fuck the new abortion laws), and he spanks your ass only to grope your pussy right after – and he also has masterful fingers that are working at the hem of your jeans, making the fabric press even more against the sensitive skin and…

You try to think of something – anything. 

Dead bodies, dead bodies, a lot of dead bodies, and there are some dead puppies too and everything is gross and smelly and…ah, it’s not working. 

König touches your lower parts with a wide grin under his hood – you’re fucking perfect, a nice addition to their house. You bite when he needs a little fight and you shut up when he touches you – perfect birdie, adorable birdie, Horangi will probably be bitching about spoiling the fun since you’d be stuck with them without a proper chase like he wanted, but the tiger would come around once he’d emptied himself on your warm body just once. 

You squirm under his touch, moan and cry and tremble and he can’t stop imagining you in millions of different positions. Stuck in the basement of their house, on your knees like a good girl you are, maybe with some branding or a collar – it’s more of a Horangi’s thing, even though König hopes he won’t have to break you too much until you’d call him daddy – pushing you to their shared bed, making sure that you’re nice and stuck in some open positions, allowing them to take you without much repercussions. 

— Let me go. 

— Nein. 

— Please? 

— I like your begging, Spatz. 

— It means you’d let me go? 

— Nein. You will tell your little friends, and then you will run to the police, ruining our fun. You are not going anywhere. 

— But, um…your culprit will be mad, no? 

As cunning as you can, you’re trying to seal the seeds of destruction among them. You’re trying your damn best not to act too charming or too fake, just so he won’t fall in love with you for real and would try murder-suicide you, but also with enough charisma checks so you’d actually convince him. 

But, it’s not really working – maybe, you aren’t as good at spreading havoc as you thought you were. 

— He’d live. We would get to hold you in your house, little one. It’s enough to make him understand my reasons. 

It’s definitely enough to make you want to puke. He is fast, not even bothering to check on the body of your friend as he goes past it – he just marks it with something that resembles a piece of torn fabric and pushes some leaves and sticks on the body, probably signalling to his friend to come and get rid of the body – and then he changed your position a little bit, securing a hand on your ass he goes deeper into the forest. 

You’re trying to remember the location, maybe counting the trees and every bush that seems like a good mark – but you, a city girl raised on a cocktail of Google Maps and a constant internet connection, have already grown tired of trying to remember everything. Every tree is the fucking same, every turn feels like the one before and, at some point, you were sure that he is actually going in circles to make you understand the location even less. Your blurry vision obstructs the goal even more – you cried so much, it feels like your very eyes gave out. With a sigh of defeat, you metaphorically roll over to your back and present your belly to the predators. 

After a hike that felt like hours, but was probably like 10 minutes long – this guy has long legs and the determination of a dog dragging a really cool stick home and, before you know it, you’re standing in front of a…house. Nice house. Expensive house, a big house, something less of a mansion, but more of a shed that you thought he was going to live in because he is literally a serial killer. 

Even serial killers made good property investments in the respective years – and you were too busy with useless stuff, like learning how to walk or trying not to choke yourself on a piece of carrot. 

— Welcome home, Schatz. 

He gently lets you down from his shoulder, allowing you to take a closer look at your surroundings. Normal living room – literally nothing weird. Maybe a bit too much hunting trophies, maybe a lot of guns lying around, some overly manly decorations, and very questionable art pieces but if you’d see that house advertised on the property website, you wouldn’t even consider it too weird. You were expecting…something. Blood on the walls, furniture made out of human flesh and skin, a devilish feast for imps and every like them…

You saw nothing as König punched the back of your head, putting you to sleep. 

You fucking hate forest trips. 

[turn3tifosi]

VII. andante, andante

pepe marti x classmate!reader

a highschool crush turns into a slow and steady relationship

series masterlist | main masterlist

It all began with your friends’ relentless teasing during lunch break. You were laughing, completely oblivious to the underlying reason for their constant jibes and hints.

“Honestly, how can you not see it?” your best friend Mia said, exasperation lacing her tone.

“See what?” you replied, genuinely puzzled.

“Pepe Marti! He’s totally into you. He’s always watching you in class,” Mia declared, her voice lowering conspiratorially.

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Pepe was a famous guy in your school. While you guys were spending hours in classrooms learning history and algebra, he was out racing in different countries, and he was doing pretty well. You’d always admired him from afar but never considered the possibility that he might notice you, let alone like you.

“No way,” you said, shaking your head. “He’s got so much going on with his racing. Why would he be interested in me?”

But the seed had been planted. You couldn’t help but replay moments in your mind—Pepe’s lingering gazes, the shy smiles he directed your way. Maybe your friends were right.

Days passed, and the idea that Pepe liked you began to feel less absurd. You started noticing him more, catching his eyes in class, and each time, he’d look away, cheeks slightly flushed. 

One day, after an extremely boring English lesson, you found yourself alone, gathering your books slowly. You glanced up and saw Pepe standing by the door, seemingly hesitant.

“Hey,” he said, his hands playing with the strap of his backpack.

“Hi!,” you replied, almost too quickly for your liking.

He stepped into the classroom. “Can we talk?”

“Sure!,” you were in no actual mood to talk with anyone, but you were curious about what Pepe wanted to say.

Pepe took a deep breath, and for a moment, he thought about just running away, too scared of your rejection. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now,” he began, his voice gentle. “I like you. A lot. I know it might sound crazy because we don’t get to spend much time together, but it’s the truth.”

You stood there, stunned into silence. Pepe’s face fell, interpreting your lack of response as rejection. He turned to leave, but before he could take another step, you rushed forward and grabbed his arm.

“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling. “I like you too, Pepe. I really do. But…can we take things slow? I don’t want to rush into anything and risk losing you.”

Relief washed over his features, and he smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his entire face, and yours in return. “Of course. I’d love that.”

From that moment on, your relationship blossomed slowly but beautifully. You’d steal moments between classes, share quiet conversations, and text each other late into the night. Pepe’s racing schedule was demanding, but he always made time for you, even if it was just a brief call from a different time zone.

One evening, as you sat together on a bench in the park, you found yourself lost in his eyes.

“There’s a shimmer in your eyes,” you murmured, as he looked at you curiously. “Like the feeling of a thousand butterflies.”

Pepe smiled and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You make everything feel like that,” he whispered.

Despite the growing closeness, a part of you remained fearful. What if the demands of his career pulled him away from you? What if the whirlwind of his racing world left no room for your quiet moments?

“Please, let’s take it slowly,” you’d often say, your voice betraying your insecurities.

Pepe would always hold you close, his embrace reassuring. “We will. I’m not going anywhere,” he’d promise.

Your relationship became a delicate dance, balancing the excitement of new love with the caution of taking things step by step. Pepe continued with his racing career, and you got into university, majoring in mechanical engineering.

And in the moments after the race, when he’d return to you, exhausted but elated, you’d see it in his eyes—the same shimmer, the same butterflies. He was yours, and you were his, moving forward together, one gentle step at a time.

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 1

Here is it is. Book 2 of The Boy With a Bat and I'm posting it on the anniversary of the first chapter of "Can Anybody See Me?" I couldn't pass up the opportunity do so, you know? If you haven't read that yet, I would recommend it.

This one starts up almost immediately after the last one ended. And I do have four chapters written.

This story will go through to the end of season 3.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

The weather started to warm and the Harringtons were away for longer and longer stretches of time. So to say that Steve was happy would be an understatement.

He used that open period to do his homework so that he had more time to practice his swimming. It was inevitable that Eddie would cotton on to the glaringly obvious gap in Steve’s swim practice. As in despite having a large pool of his own, Steve would practice at the school or on the weekends at the community center.

At first the excuse of it being too cold to swim in the outdoor pool, that fell away to the warmer weather. Thankfully it was the last meet of the season, and the team had gotten to state.

Steve hadn’t even bothered to tell his parents that the swim team had a chance at nationals. That they had been that good. Nope. He told Wayne Munson and Claudia Henderson though. Those were the adults he really wanted to see there. Not Clint and Marilyn Harrington. Of course Joyce and Hopper were told, too. But Claudia had become more like his mother and Wayne, the father figure he had always wanted.

Eddie had avoided the swim meets for the most part. Not because he didn’t want to support Steve. He did. The problem was the *ahem* uniform for the boys’ swim team. It consisted of one cap, one pair of goggles and the tiniest Speedo known to man. Or at least known to Eddie. He could barely handle his boyfriend in the booty shorts the basketball team wore, the Speedo was just too much for his poor developed teenaged brain.

But through begging, bribing, and blow jobs, Eddie was at that meet.

Thankfully he wasn’t sandwiched between Uncle Wayne and Claudia Henderson. Nope, Marty and Janice had come, too. The rest of them couldn’t get out of their classes to come but they all told Steve they were rooting for him.

Steve walked out in the green Speedo (being the ‘away’ team) cap. The white framed goggles perched on his head. He spoke briefly to coaches Hall and Hastings. And then turned to wave at the enthusiastic crowd. Claudia had gotten Dustin excused from school and Nancy and Jonathan were there as members of the school news paper.

All in all not a bad turnout for the boy who thought that 1985 was going to be as bad as 1984 had been. He thought he was going to end the year with no girlfriend, no friends, and no future. But that all changed with Eddie Munson deciding he was worth having. First as a friend and then as a boyfriend.

The boyfriend thing was still being kept on the down low as they were still in high school and Steve’s dad was just too big of a wild card to tell people that might get word back to him. Steve felt bad. Because it meant that Dustin and the other kids didn’t know about him and Eddie. Well...he was pretty sure Max had figured it out and maybe El, too. But everyone else was told that they were strictly bros.

A lie Eddie was surprisingly okay with. The last thing he wanted was Steve to get another concussion and if Billy and his gang scented blood in the water before, it would be a literal blood bath if Steve was even hinted at being in a relationship with another boy. Tommy and Billy could taunt all they wanted as long as there wasn’t any proof, they were fine.

It made Steve itch. But even he knew better than to scratch it.

He took a deep breath and stepped up to the starting block. He got in position and lowered his goggles. Out of the corners of his eyes he could see the other competitors look at each other, sizing each other up. But Steve was focused. He put his head down and took a deep breath. He loved the butterfly stroke. It worked his shoulders in a way that helped round out his strengths.

The whistle blew and they were off. Distantly he could hear people screaming his name and cheering him on every time he broke the water. He smiled and doubled his efforts. He touched the pad and the whistle blew. He then looked around at his competitors and saw to his satisfaction that he had definitely finished first.

Steve could hear Dustin freaking out in the stands. He pulled the goggles off his eyes and placed them on his head. He wiped the water out of his face and he looked to the stands.

Wayne was asking Claudia a question and she was explaining it animatedly. Steve grinned. He pulled himself out of the water and listened to the judges give the times. It was no record by any means, but it was much faster than his peers.

He stood up and Coach Hall raised his hand up. All his team members came up to him and cheering excitedly. Even the ones that he had beaten.

Steve sat on the sidelines and waited for the relay to start. That was his final event. He was first, followed by two other boys, Lyle and Nick, and then Ezra. Steve and Ezra were the teams two fastest swimmers and bookended the relay team.

Finally they were up. He looked up at the stands again. The most important people in Steve’s life were up there cheering him on. He got into position and pulled his goggles down. He zipped through the water like an otter and was soon tapping out for the next swimmer. He quickly got out of the way and was shocked to see that other team wasn’t even close. As each boy popped out of the water and looked at how far they were in front of the other team, they would start to jump up and down excitedly.

Soon it was the three of them waiting for Ezra to finish. There was no doubt they won. The question was whether or not they had beat the state record. Ezra tapped the board and hopped out of the water.

They waited in silence as the other team finished their run and got out of the pool. The judge must have had a flare for the dramatic as he read the other team’s time first. Steve and his team wrapped their arms around each other as they waited for the time.

Finally it was read.

“A new state record!” the judge called out.

Steve and his team started screaming and cheering.

“And thereby qualify for the regionals that will be held in Chicago this year in two weeks!” the judge continued.

They made it!

Steve looked up at the stands and the entire section that held the Hawkins fans were on their feet. Even Eddie had been lost in the sea of fans screaming their lungs out.

*

After he had showered and got the chlorine out of his hair, he walked out to all his friends waiting for him. They were holding up signs and cheering. Even Nancy and Jonathan were waiting for him.

“Steve, that was amazing, man,” Jonathan said. He snapped a a couple of pictures that left Steve blinking from the flash.

Nancy hugged him and then straightened out her skirt. She cleared her throat and said as professionally as possible, “Weekly Streak, as co-captain of the team, how does it feel making regionals for the first time in the school’s history?”

“Me and Ezra Wincott are both proud of how well our players did,” Steve said after shaking his head a little. “We’re disappointed that no one in the individual events made it, but grateful that we made it to state. It was an honor to compete.”

“Will the school be raising the money for the team to go?” Nancy asked.

Steve covered his wince with a half smile. This was a hotly contested subject between them about where school funds went. She thought that more money should go to arts like theater and the newspaper, of course.

“I wouldn’t know,” he said and pursed his lips. He licked a stripe over his upper lip and Eddie winced.

Eddie wondered if Nancy was familiar with Steve’s tell that he was seriously annoyed. Judging from her expression, probably not.

“It’s up to the administration where the funds go,” Steve said, dryly. “However, if it will help Lyle or Nick have the chance to go, I’m sure my parents would be willing to pay for me to go regardless of the school’s ability to fund the trip.”

Nancy and Eddie both scoffed, but they didn’t say anything.

“Any word on elections for next years captain or captains?” Nancy asked.

“We’ll be holding them after nationals,” Steve said. “Coaches Higgins and Hall have opted to continue with the co-captains as they have in the past few years.”

“Are you disappointed that none of the girls made it to state?” Nancy asked.

Eddie and Steve exchanged a glance over her head of exasperation. “Co-captains Laura Gilbert and Denise Portman led the girls to a great season. It was unfortunate that they went against better teams. The hope next year is that they are getting six new members next year that will freshen up the team.”

“And how many boys will be joining the team next year?”

Steve crossed his arms and licked his upper lip again, and it sent a not nice shiver down Eddie’s spine. He could tell that he was getting upset with Nancy’s questions.

“Not as many,” Steve said, knowing that was exactly why she asked. She was gloating that the girls were getting more players next year. “Only four. Which considering we’re losing six this year is quite the blow.”

“Just one last question,” Nancy said a sneer on her face. “Who are you celebrating with tonight?”

Everyone went dead silent. Steve wasn’t sure if she was being obtuse or if she was trying to out him, but it wasn’t appropriate by any stretch of the imagination.

“Friends and family,” Steve said with a sinister smile.

Nancy turned of the recorder and stuck it in her pocket. Both Eddie and Steve opened their mouths to protest, but Jonathan beat them to it.

“What the fuck was with that last question?” he growled as he packed away his camera.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “The school’s student editor is one of Tommy’s ilk and wanted me to ask it off all the people I interviewed, but especially Steve.”

“You do realize that only seven people in the whole school read the school newspaper, right?” Eddie asked. “Like everyone I know tosses it the second it gets handed to them.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Well maybe you guys should. It’s not just sports you know. The debate team also made it to state. The drama club got invited to perform at the drama conference with ‘Yours, Yours, Yours’ and a dozen other things that you would know if you read the only paper in town that cared about that sort of thing.”

Steve and Eddie looked at Marty and Janice and then back at Nancy.

“You do realize that that last example was a piss poor one right?” Steve asked, waving his hand to include Eddie, Janice and Marty. “We were all part of the play in some way. Of course we knew about the invite.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Okay, so that was a bad example. But you know what I mean.”

“It’s not the end of the world, Nance,” Dustin said. “You’re destined for greatness at some big name paper.”

Nancy blushed. “Thanks!”

Eddie smiled. “Come on, sweetheart. Uncle Wayne and I have celebration plans for you, big boy.”

Steve grinned. “Is Wayne going to barbecue like he’d been teasing all winter?”

Wayne laughed. “Not quite warm enough for that yet. I promise, once it is, I’ll blow your god damn mind.”

Steve laughed.

“No,” Claudia said with a smile. “We’re going for milk shakes at the diner. Best celebration there is.”

Steve high-fived Dustin.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @counting-dollars-counting-stars @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

[strawb3rrystar]

Hey, are you gay?

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x Popular! Fem! Reader

Summary: One message can set down a path that could determine the rest of your high school life, or get you a really sweet partner.

Warnings: Reader is a rich girl, mentions leaked nudes, slight angst, not proofread

Word count: 2.8k

✰Masterlist

'Hey, can I ask you a question?'

The first message read. Quite unassuming, except for the fact it came from you, one of the most popular girls in school. Now, you wouldn't describe yourself as the typical mean girl, or cheerleader. You just knew a lot of people, and most of them really liked you. Well, Dave Lizewski was one of those people, which is why he felt like his brain was exploding when he saw that message pop up on his Myspace. His heart raced, hands feeling clammy as he typed out his response.

'Yeah, sure. What is it?'

Your question came a few minutes after, not expecting him to answer so quickly, if at all.

'Are you actually gay?'

Dave stared at it for a few moments, his heart dropping in his chest. Of course that's what you wanted to talk about.

'What? No! Why would you even ask me that?'

'Well, all the girls are spreading a rumor that you're gay. Thought I'd ask.'

That truth made him feel sick. Sure, Todd and Marty had already delivered that news to him. But hearing it straight from the source felt like being run over again.

'Yeah, well that’s bullshit. I’m not gay.'

'Okay, cool.'

Dave didn’t reply straight away, he just stared at your message for a few moments, still feeling a bit bad.

'Why are they spreading that about me?'

'Fuck if I know. I try to stay out of that shit. Besides, they're all fake petty bitches anyways.'

That actually got a surprised laugh out of him, not expecting that kind of answer or vocabulary from you at all.

'Yeah, I guess they are. You know, I don't think we've ever actually spoken before. Funny, considering we go to the same school.'

'True, but we are on opposite ends of the social ladder.'

Dave leaned back in his chair with a smile. His attention now completely on this chat as he began to type a response.

'Oh, yeah. You are WAY out of my league.'

'You really think that?'

He paused for a moment, thinking of what to say next. A few seconds passed before he settled on a decision.

'Well, yeah. I mean, you're popular. You're attractive, smart, funny. And I'm, well, I'm just a loser nerd.'

'But here I am, talking to you.'

The two of you had fallen victim to softcore flirting. Even if neither one of you would ever admit that.

'Yeah, but... why are you talking to me?'

His response read as he furrowed his brow in confusion, wondering why someone as popular as you would even give him the time of day.

'Well, I thought it would be awkward to ask you out if you were gay.'

Dave was completely taken aback by that message, he had to read it over a couple of times to make sure he read that correctly before he responded.

'Wait, you wanted to ask me out?'

'Yeah.'

That reply left Dave a bit dumbfounded, why on earth would a girl like you, especially one he had never spoken to, want to ask him out?

'You're screwing with me, right? This is some kind of joke?'

'No, it's not. When are you free?'

Dave didn't have the faintest idea what was going on. A part of him was telling him that this was all just some kind of cruel joke. How else would he have gone from sitting on his computer being miserable and pathetic to being asked out by a pretty girl.

'Uh- well, right now I've got nothing planned.'

'Great. Want to come over?'

Dave's heart jumped in his chest, he was almost sure now that this was some kind of joke or prank or something. No way this was actually happening to him. How on earth had he gone from being the loner on the outside to being asked out and asked to come over by you?

'What... really? Like, now?'

'Yes, really. My parents aren't going to be home for the next few days.'

Dave was seriously tempted to check and make sure this wasn't all some kind of dream. He pinched himself under his desk to see if it was. It wasn't.

'Damn. Uh... yeah, okay. I’ll head over. What's your address?'

When you sent him your address he quickly pieced together that area as being where the rich people live. Big expensive houses and fancy cars, something an average guy like him can never afford. He had almost forgotten that you were rich. The realization that a rich girl was asking him to come over to her house, a loser like him, made this feel even more like a joke or prank. He was still a little skeptical and hesitant about the whole situation but he couldn't say no.

'I'll be there in 20.'

'See you soon ;)'

Were the last messages exchanged between you two. Dave spent the next 20 minutes getting to her house, it was the fastest he had ever cycled in his entire life. He was now standing outside of this gorgeous house, looking up at it in a mixture of awe and disbelief, in fact, he was completely in disbelief that this was even about to happen. Dave took a moment to compose himself before he marched up your front walk and knocked firmly on the front door.

As you open the door all of his doubts went away. You looked even better than you did at school, You were standing in front of him in a pair of short shorts and a crop top. For a few moments Dave forgot how to speak, until he finally remembered how to form words into sentences. "Hey.. I'm here."

"I can see that." You reply, Dave feeling very conscious of how dry his mouth was right now, his heart racing in his chest. "So... I can come in, right?" You nod your head, moving out of the way for him. Dave walked into the house, taking in the interior of it. It was very apparent how rich your family actually was. "Nice place you got here."

You shrug, closing the door and locking it "It's my parents. They want me out when I graduate college anyways." Dave's jaw almost dropped a little at the nonchalance in your voice. It was like a rich girl didn't even realize that she was rich. Even if your parents did expect you to leave once you graduate college, you really had nothing to worry about. You'll inherit the family wealth, you were set for life. It was then that Dave realized how different they were, you were the rich popular girl and he was the poor loser nerd. "They really want that?"

"Yeah. But it's whatever." Dave's eyebrows furrow at your nonchalance, that kind of stuff wasn't 'whatever' for people like him. He didn't have anything to inherit, his father was just a single parent, a middle-class factory worker struggling to make ends meet. He's not gonna inherit anything. That's probably another reason you picked him; he was below you. Regardless, he decided to change the subject. "So... what's the plan for today?"

"Well, what do you want to do?" That made Dave pause, he honestly hadn't thought that far ahead. He just thought that you would take the lead. After all, you were the one who invited him over. But, at the same time, he did have an idea in his mind. "I have a proposition."

"Oh? A proposition?" You grin, making Dave's cheeks flush a little. "Uh, yeah... but it's a little... weird." You nearly roll your eyes. As if you'd ever find anything he says weird. "Hit me." The smile you had on your face made him both anxious and excited, but also strangely helped give him a bit of courage. "Could we.. maybe.. cuddle?"

You smile, agreeing to his proposition. "Wait, really? Just like that?" Dave was a little shocked, you agreed a little too easily, he was expecting you to have lots of questions. "Listen, my ex liked taking me through the back door and getting bj's under the bleachers. A little cuddling is like middle schoolers holding hands at this point."

Dave's eyes widened as she said that, he couldn't help the images that started to run through his mind, images of her doing those kinds of things. "You really let him do that stuff to you?" The thought of doing this with her growing more and more real and more possible. "Wish I hadn't, but yeah."

You laugh a little at your own comment, then turned to head over to the stairs. Dave quickly followed after you, the feeling of excitement bubbling in his stomach once more. When you two first walked into your room, it was what he had expected. The room of a rich popular girl. It was filled with expensive things, makeup on the desk, a very expensive vanity and stuff. The room itself was a lot larger than his own back in his crappy apartment. "So... how are we doing this?"

"You've never cuddled before?" You question him. Dave freezes up, but nervously nods his head. You grab his arm and lead him over to your bed, instructing him to get on it. Once he's settled back into the pillow, you climb in beside him, leaning into his side. After a few moments of silence you decided to speak up. "You know, the real reason I invited you over was because I thought you'd understand what it feels like to have rumors spread about you."

That gained Dave's attention, his eyebrows perk up "What do you mean by that?" You sigh, leaning against him more "My ex spread a rumor that I cheat on him, then leaked my nudes as 'revenge.'" Dave feels his heart break a little as you say that. The idea that your ex had done something like that to you... it disgusted him. He gently hugs you closer to him, his hand rubbing your shoulder softly. "I'm so sorry."

You shake your head in response "No, I shouldn't trouble you with my stupid problems." Dave's stomach twists as he hears you say that, continuing to hug you closer to his chest, his hand moving to rub your back. "Hey... they're not stupid problems, I know they are serious to you, and that makes them serious to me as well. I care about you."

You look up into his eyes "Why?" Dave slowly brought both his hands up to your face, his thumbs gently brushing over your warm skin as he spoke to you. "Because you mean so much to me... more than you'll ever know." You lean into his touch, trying to fight off tears. You've never had someone care about you this much.

For a moment, he can't keep the nerdy, awkward part of himself from speaking up. He hesitates, before speaking in a soft, quiet voice. "Can I tell you something?" Dave takes another beat before continuing, his hands suddenly feeling clammy. "I've had a huge, massive, incredible crush on you, for years now."

"Oh, me too." you reply, as if it was nothing. Dave's eyes widen in surprise, he couldn't believe it. "Wait.. really?" You nod your head slowly. Dave's brain just can't compute it. He had spent so long being the nerdy loser that everyone made fun of and no girl wanted to pay attention to, but there was this incredible, beautiful girl confessing to having a crush on him. "For how long?"

"Since middle school." you admit to him. Dave tries to speak but his throat has gone dry at the revelation, the idea that you've had a crush on him since middle school was almost too much to process. "For real?" Your conformation sent Dave's brain into a spiral, it was just so unbelievable. This incredible, popular girl confessing to having a crush on him since middle school, it was like a nerdy guy's dream come true or something. "And you never said anything?"

"I think I was in denial that I actually liked you." You take a moment, then lean closer to him, whispering. "But I don't think I am anymore, though." Dave's breath catches in his chest when you lean closer to him, his brain feeling like mush. A few seconds pass as the two of you lay in each others arms. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." you echo, your lips hovering over his. Dave's heart thumps even faster in his chest, he was so close to what he's always wanted. "Can I... you know, kiss you... or something...?" You smile a little at him "You'd be stupid not to."

The comment has a smile tugging at Dave's lips as he looks down at you. He can't tell if it's confidence in your voice, or the fact that you're finally giving him permission to kiss you. But it doesn't matter... either way the fact you're practically giving him permission to kiss you, is enough to set the butterflies in his stomach in motion once again. Dave moves a little closer to you, so his chest is almost pressed up against yours. "Then I guess I'm stupid."

"Oh, shut the fuck up." You roll your eyes before crashing your lips onto his. Any thought, any idea, any witty, semi-confident comment goes out the window. Dave closes his eyes and kisses you back, wrapping his arm around you to pull you close. His lips eagerly press against yours, kissing you with fervor and passion. One of your hands travels to grab onto his shoulder lightly. Dave groans softly against your lips, he still felt as inexperienced and as socially awkward as ever in this moment, but he didn't care. Not right now.

He pushes his tongue against your lips as he continues to kiss you, gently running his hand up and down your back as he does. You part your lips for him, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. Dave pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring and licking every inch of you. One of his hands moves to gently grip your waist, while he pushes his body against yours, pinning you to the bed a little. You moan against his lips in response, making Dave nearly lose control over himself. A switch is flicked in his brain that wants to hear that sound from her over and over again.

You pull away from his lips a minute later, gasping for air. "Jesus Christ. I was starting to feel lightheaded for a second." Dave lets out a soft laugh at your comment, the fact that their kissing has left you feeling lightheaded, has him feeling smug and almost proud of himself. "Does that mean I'm a good kisser?" You don't want to feed his ego, but if you had to be honest, it was the best kiss you've ever had. "For a virgin, I suppose you are."

Dave's ears go scarlet at her comment, the idea of her calling him a virgin to his face "I... I'm sorry?" You tilt your head in confusion "For what?" Dave just looks down at her for a moment, the knowledge that you know that he's a virgin is both embarrassing but also kind of turns him on a bit. "For... you know, being inexperienced... I just... I don't want to disappoint you."

"Relax, we have all been virgins once." Dave takes a breath as he looks down at you, trying to calm his already thumping heart. He knows you're trying to reassure him, and it does work a little, but he still can't help the insecurities and the nerves that are running through his head. "I just... want to make you feel good... that's all I care about." You nearly scoff, finding him unbelievable. "Have you met my ex?"

Dave's expression immediately hardens at the mention of her ex, the fact you just brought him up is enough to ruin the moment a little for him. "Well, that asshole didn't ever make me feel good. He only cared about getting himself off. So, you're already like ten steps ahead." He feels bad that you were ever with someone like that in the first place, a pit in his stomach dropping. "Damn... the bar is really set low then, huh?" You place a kiss on his neck "You could say that."

Dave lets out a soft moan when you place a kiss on his neck, his body suddenly tensing up a bit at the feeling in a good way. He bites his bottom lip for a second as he responds, looking down at you, his voice softer now. "Is that all it takes? I just have to be better than your shitty ex?"

"Just.. do whatever feels right." Dave takes that in, staring at you for a few minutes. "Hm, well, I've wanted to kiss you for years. So I think I'd like to continue doing that." He says before his lips are back on yours.

Star's notes -> Decided to not turn this into smut because I thought this was cute on it's own.

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> No one yet | Send me an ask to be added to the taglist

[freedomfireflies]

iFall for Harry pt. 9

Summary: The ninth part to iFall for Harry

Turns out, destiny has other plans for you and Harry.

And you're taking a trip...back to the future.

Word Count: 2.2k

Grieving Harry is linear.

The moment the call goes dead, so does your connection to him.

Your heightened emotions dwindle down to nothingness. Your memories, your pain, your past. Every cheese pun, every sexy text, every word from his lips.

You erase them all.

You shut out a majority of the world. Revert back to a state of mind where you refuse to trust or engage with anyone. You protect yourself. Punish yourself for letting him get away. For being so broken. For being everything he doesn’t want.

And for making him everything you do.

You don’t work through the problem. You don’t even allow yourself to admit there is a problem. You simply tuck him away into the darkest corner of your mind…and you forget him.

Your friends are worried about you. They reach out, they plan dates, they arrange sleepovers. 

You decline them all.

You stay in your apartment, and you watch old reruns of The Big Bang Theory, and you pretend to laugh at the jokes you’ve heard a hundred times before. 

But most importantly, you pretend like Harry didn’t mention this was one of his comfort shows and that that’s why you’re watching it.

Two weeks go by. Nothing changes for you. You’re still a hollow version of yourself. Dedicating each day to wondering why you couldn’t have just…gotten over your fear. Gotten over what happened to you. And just…let him in.

Your therapist tries to tell you that healing takes time. Trauma lives within the body and no amount of cute boys and perfect scenarios will change that. Until you learn to forgive yourself, you will always be stuck.

 She might be right. But unsticking yourself now doesn’t bring him back.

Occasionally you’ll hear that he’s doing well. He’s on tour. He’s booked a new movie. He’s been caught making out with a model.

But it falls on deaf ears. Passes right through you like air. You’re indifferent now. Choosing to pretend as if he never existed to you.

Now he’s just that famous guy nobody will shut up about.

But on those late nights, when the fragility of your heart slips the crack of your apathetic persona…you pull up his contact.

You have it blocked. Nearly deleted it countless times so you’d lose the temptation to memorize his number and find a way to reach him.

Still, you can’t resist typing out a message. You’ll pour out your heart, write him paragraphs of apologies and explanations. You’ll wish for things to go back. Wish for his happiness. Wish for everything.

And then, you’ll hit the delete button.

Erase everything you want to say, exit out of his information, and turn your phone off.

You almost don’t see the email.

You’re going through your inbox, cleaning it out, responding here and there. But mostly rifling through all the ads so you can delete them and create a bit more space.

The name Marty McFly is what catches your eye. And despite yourself…you click.

Back to the Future! One Night Only! Buy your tickets now!

Your local theater is doing a triple feature, one movie each night for the next three days. You almost don’t consider it. Almost click out of the advertisement and move on.

But then you think of Harry. Think of how you promised to take him, and your heart sinks a little as you stare at the painted poster of Michael J. Fox standing in front of the time traveling car while staring at his watch.

You decide to go. It’ll be nice to watch something that fills you with so much joy. It’ll be good to laugh again. And to revel in the opportunity to forget, at least for a couple of hours.

You think about it for the rest of the week. Countdown the days until you can finally make your way for the theater. 

It feels good to go out again. Feels good to have the sunshine on your face and the promise of a good time ahead of you.

When you slide up to the booth, you’re wearing a smile. A real, genuine smile.

“Hi! Can I get one ticket to the five o’clock showing?” you ask the ticket taker, who nods and accepts your cash.

With that, you’re waved through the doors, and your heart begins to pound. The smell of popcorn and promise washes over each sense as you grab your snacks, and look for your specific door.

After slipping your way inside, you take a look around the darkened theater.

However, the room is empty. At least a hundred seats without a single soul to use them.

Your brows furrow. “The hell is everyone?”

You walk along the aisle, looking for the best seat until you decide on the middle chair about halfway back. 

Snuggling down with your popcorn, you settle in, and wait for the opening credits. Truth be told, you feel a bit odd to be taking up a whole theater by yourself, and you have to wonder if perhaps you got the date wrong. Or maybe the time? Maybe you’re early? Although according to your clock, the movie should be starting any second now.

And then…someone else walks in.

You release a relieved breath as the dark shadow strides along the aisle similar to how you had, looking for a seat as well. Selfishly, you hope they don’t get too close.

Then, they turn down your row.

Shit.

Returning your focus to the dark screen, you pretend not to notice, instead studying the velvet red curtain that’s draping on either side.

The stranger stops right beside you.

Assuming that they’d like to pass by, you glance over, and begin to pull your legs in.

You make the mistake of looking up.

And your heart instantly sinks to the soles of your shoes.

Harry.

“Hi. S’this seat taken?”

The sound of his voice makes your stomach drop to your toes. Even in the dark, you can make out the familiar slope of his nose and sharp curve of his jaw.

You don’t know what to say. Don’t know if he recognizes you or if he knows what he’s even doing.

Either way, you swallow thickly, and nod once.

He smiles.

After settling down into the chair beside you, he sighs, and wiggles back into his seat to get comfortable.

You try not to look at him. Try to pretend like you can’t smell his expensive cologne wafting toward you. Try to pretend as though his hand isn’t right there, dangling over the armrest as if taunting you.

And then, the movie begins.

You try to get lost into the world of Marty and Doc. A world you’re already so familiar with.

But it’s nearly impossible with the way he continues to shift, or laugh, or snort beside you. As if trying to distract you.

You have half a mind to turn to him and hiss, “Shhhh.” 

Somehow…you resist.

“Doc…are you telling me…that you built a time machine…out of a DeLorean?”

Harry laughs beside you, chin resting in the palm of his hand, and for some reason…your chest swells with pride. 

You want him to enjoy this movie. Enjoy the lines you used to memorize as a kid. Want to be able to talk about it with him after and exchange favorite moments.

But the second you start to indulge in this fantasy…you remember.

And your smile quickly slips.

The rest of the movie is spent with your focus glued to the screen. You don’t sneak any extra glances. You don’t listen for his sounds. You don’t allow your peripheral to catch him. 

And when the infamous car flies toward the camera before disappearing in a flash as the title card explodes across the screen, you jump to your feet.

You don’t waste another goddamn second. You get up, you turn on your heel, and you book it toward the middle aisle.

“Wait…wait,” you hear Harry murmur as the dramatic score carries you out of the theater. “Ladybug, wait.”

The nickname nearly makes you flinch as you slip through the door and rush for the lobby. You can tell he’s following after you, the sound of the seats flipping up as he pushes by following you out.

You nearly reach the double doors before his large hand wraps around your upper arm and yanks you back. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, brows furrowed as your eyes meet his chest.

You can’t look at him.

“Listen, I know you wanna go, but I just need to talk to you for one second,” he continues, but his fingers won’t leave you. “Please.”

Your heart is hammering inside your ears. You can’t seem to look anywhere else but the buttons on his shirt.

It’s quiet for a long time.

Then, you nod.

He takes a deep breath. “Listen, I know…I know why this shouldn’t work. I understand the mechanics, and the difficulties, and the issues. I get it. It shouldn’t work.”

A beat of silences settles between you as you apprehensively allow yourself to travel your gaze up.

“…but it does,” he whispers, and your mouth goes dry. “It works, and I don’t know how, and I don’t know why. But I can’t fucking let you go and it’s driving me up the goddamn wall.”

You don’t know what to do. What to say, what to think.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he continues. “I don’t want to block you or remove you. I don’t want to miss you. Or have to remember you as just some fucking thing that happened. I want to talk to you. Wanna send you pictures of the sky and play games with you. Wanna watch TV and bitch about Sheldon with you. Wanna beg you to let me come just to have you do that little smirky thing you do that makes my fucking stomach flip.”

You take a deep breath. And then another. And then another, but nothing helps. Nothing seems to unwind this knot that’s growing tighter with each confession. 

“I can’t wrap my head around you,” he says, and his voice is heavy. And confused. Almost as lost as his expression. “I can’t wrap my head around this—us. I just…I fucking try to think about anything else and it always comes back to you. Every goddamn time.”

You know there are tears in your eyes. You wish there weren’t but they’re coming faster than you can stop them.

“And I know why you’re nervous,” he sighs, squeezing your arm once. “I know. And I can’t fix it, and I really fucking wish I could, but I…god, I’ll do anything to make your future better than your past. I will do anything…to keep you, Cheese Girl. Whatever it takes, whatever you want. Name it, and it's yours.”

“I don’t want you to do anything, Har,” you nearly whimper, head shaking quickly. “I never wanted you to feel responsible for my shit—”

“I don’t. I don’t, I just…you can’t carry this alone. And I can help you—”

“But why should you? You have your own life, and your own trauma, and you deserve the fairytale ending—”

“Ladybug,” he breathes, cutting you short. “We met over text and now we’re here in a movie theater while I profess my adoration for you. Tell me how this isn’t a fairytale.”

Despite yourself…you smile. “Yeah, how…how did you even know I’d be here?”

He releases you now, but only so he can grimace and run a hand through his curls. “Okay, don’t…don’t judge me, but I just…I paid them a shit ton of money to let me rent out the building for…a day or two.”

“A day or two?”

“Well…I wasn’t sure if you’d see the email in time, so I had to keep sending it until you came—”

You rear back. “You sent the email?”

His nose scrunches. “I was desperate, all right? You had me blocked, and I figured you wouldn’t agree to meeting.”

Your lashes flutter as you work in this new information. “Shit, Har. That’s…that’s a lot of work to go through just for one person you barely know.”

He suddenly surges forward, palms pressing to your cheeks until he can take hold of your face and tilt it up. “You’re worth it. My god, Cheesy, are you worth it.”

“Cheesy?” you repeat incredulously, but your smile is big. “God that’s…”

“…cheesy?” he finishes for you. “About as cheesy as renting out a theater in hopes that the girl I like will show up and take me back?”

You nod quickly, lip between your teeth. “Yeah, but…cheese is kind of our thing.”

“It is,” he agrees, chuckling to himself as he pulls you closer, your chest brushing with his. “Listen, I can’t…I know this isn’t some sort of magic fix. But please…please let me try. Just…just let me keep you. For a little bit at least. Let me make all those puns worth it.”

Maybe you know better. Maybe this is a horrible idea. Maybe every red flag is waving wildly in your face.

And maybe…you just don’t care.

“What if I’m your destiny?” he finishes, and your heart just about breaks. “Or…density.”

You both laugh as he catches a stray tear that travels down your cheek, eyes pleading with yours. 

And when you offer the subtlest of nods…everything changes.

He kisses you before you can take a breath, his lips warm and full of promise.

You stand there in the middle of the lobby, trapped in his arms as the soft sounds of Back to the Future play on in the background.

Maybe he is your destiny after all.

One more part 🥹 Will be sobbing violently

Dedicated to @nof0odallowed for the original ask! 💞

Next Part:

~iFall for Harry pt. 10* (Final)

Previous Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 8

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist:

@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @cherryshouse @lydiarry @justlemmeadoreyou @tiaamberxx @yoruse

[blindmagdalena]

thoughts on ep 4?

ohhhh man this is gonna be really long and disjointed because i just finished the episode. i'm just gonna be focused on the homelander stuff here bc i feel like that's what we're all here for lol

the energy he brought to that whole situation gave me the most intense anxiety. i feel like not even he was entirely sure how all of that was going to go down, but as soon as he was there, all these memories that he had repressed started flooding to the surface. obviously his relationship with Ryan is causing a lot of his trauma to come to the forefront, and this is the culmination of that.

i think what caught me the most off guard was how run down the place looked. a concrete basement with shoddy computers and post-its everywhere. a bunch of techs. it was so small, and yet it's like homelander said. it was a lot bigger when he was a child.

it was their day job. it was his whole world.

that very first moment when Marty calls him John, and he corrects "Homelander," in that boyish voice, i almost burst into tears.

the moment where he's staring at the incinerator made me feel ill for him. i already knew what was coming, and it didn't disappoint.

"I had nightmares about that exact moment, and you can't even remember it."

i had chills throughout this entire scene. it was such a succinct way to lay out how dehumanized he was his entire life. that so many people stood by and were so desensitized to his torture. they tuned out his screams entirely and played little games to pass the time. all while he watched.

this time, when Marty calls him John, there's no quiver in his voice. "Homelander," he corrects firmly, smile tight and closed. direct eye contact, waiting for a challenge. but they won't. he knows no one will stop him. not just because they can't... but because they simply won't. they wouldn't save a child. why would they save Frank?

"You're sorry? Now?"

this whole scene is such an interesting parallel to his conversation with Vogelbaum in s1, where he asks, "You want forgiveness? Now?"

something he rightfully denied Vogelbaum. in this instance, however, we see Homelander enacting his vengeance and giving that forgiveness... but only once they're dead. only once they'd paid his price. once they've suffered as he did. I forgive you.

the only time anyone expresses remorse for what they've done to him is when they're faced with it. when the regret eats away at them not for the harm they caused, but the damage done to the world, or to their own safety.

immediately following that, we see him call Marty over and not just apologize, but very specifically he asks, "Can you forgive me?"

it's perfect foreshadowing for what he's about to do to him. can he forgive the same thing Homelander is about to?

the scene that follows is so profoundly uncomfortable i had a lot of trouble watching. the reality of Homelander's life and teenage years is something that we as a fandom have always been very cognizant of, but seeing it addressed so plainly on screen was both nightmarish and vindicating.

i remember being really squicked out by his comment regarding Ryan getting Zoe pregnant, but it makes total sense that raising Ryan is bringing a lot of his own childhood sexual trauma to the surface. there's SO MUCH to be addressed here that it could be it's own post. but what's great is when Homelander calls an end to it: it's the moment Marty says he's sorry.

"I forgive you, Marty."

this is all about Homelander accepting what happened to him. facing it and the people who were part of it head on.

speaking of...

BARBARA. i know she's public enemy #1 right now, and rightfully so, but i found her so profoundly interesting. did she know Homelander was there? she didn't seem surprised at all. why would she come without backup? how did they even contact her with everything shut down? i don't know, but whatever the case, i really got the impression she already knew what she was walking into. she made a real attempt to get Homelander away from the other scientists, but he wasn't going to be swayed. they were already doomed.

she antagonized him. They were just doing what I told them. It's not their fault. It's mine. Leave them alone.

it's very apparent to me that among his fractured personalities, she represents the kinder motherly one. she, like Stan Edgar and Vogelbaum, are elevated above the other scientists. she's a figure of authority and she spoke to him as such.

"They were scared."

"I was a child."

"They were scared!"

and he does recoil at that. we KNOW Homelander hates being feared. it was his trigger with Madelyn, it's what kept him from lasering that crowd, and it's a blatant, desperate lie when he says to Starlight, "...being feared is a-one okie doke by me."

"Everyone was terrified of you from your first breath."

she breaks his heart a hundred times in this scene. from the reveal that he killed his mother in the same way Vogelbaum told him his son did—the source of that lie?—to the statement that their greatest success was making him obedient by withholding love. by turning his heart into a pit of need.

a sharp juxtaposition to Vogelbaum's You're my greatest failure.

and then she says to him no matter what you do, you will always be human.

here's the thing about Homelander's humanity. he doesn't associate it with kindness or love. he associates humanity with all the worst things that have ever happened to him. cruelty. selfishness. betrayal. his entire life he's been used and abused by the people who were supposed to protect him.

of course he doesn't want to be human. doesn't want his SON to be human. look at what humans have done to him. they're vile, they're vicious, they're dirty.

in another life, that desire could have been his drive to be good. if he'd only had a single fucking example of it.

"I'm not human. And neither is my son. And I'm gonna raise him so that he knows it."

in other words, he'll raise his son the way they failed to raise him. Homelander wants desperately to raise his son with the love he never had. he just doesn't know how to.

ultimately, like Vogelbaum and Stan, Homelander can't bring himself to kill her. he tears apart the people she tried to save, and he leaves her to stew in her own fucking mess.

[yorshie]

I just read almost all your turtle relates work and i loved It! I was wondering how the brothers worked out having a poly relationship with the reader, the dynamics, what they think/feel about It, etc.

It can be headcanons or one shot, don't really mind, I just adore your work with them 👀

Thank you so much for your amazing storys💫

Thank you for the ask Nonnie!

I want to precede this by saying I don’t really have serious thoughts about how a poly relationship with all four brothers would work. I just started writing without worrying about the logistics of it, but I do keep some things in mind so it doesn’t turn into a Marty Robbin’s song.

So I went with head canon style observations and then added a little blurb that just hasn’t really fit in any one-shots I’ve written so far, but seemed appropriate in this context. I hope you enjoy!

Bayverse turtles x GNreader

Jealousy goes out the window. Who she? Oh, we don't know her. Brotherly squabbles still exist, but you are never the direct reason for the issues.

This relationship was definitely a slow burn, friends to lovers, where the lines blurred as love grew.

Mikey was probably the first one to start testing the friendship/boyfriend lines. His brand of flirting and physical affection makes him a prime suspect to see how far he could push and what exactly you would be comfortable with.

Donnie seems like the next likely culprit, certainly if he saw how openly you gave affection to his brother he might realize "hey, I'd like some of that", and proceed to tell you what he wanted next time the two of you were alone.

With the older brothers, it would definitely be Leo that has the next epiphany. With his love of listening, he'd probably get you talking and then slowly start scooting closer and closer, on the look out for any signals that you were happy with just two turtles' attentions. Finding none, you'd end up with a cuddle buddy anytime the two of you have a talk.

And Raph? he'd be the last, and he'd just show up with the others on one of the planned hangouts, hesitant and unsure but following their lead. Better not mention the red elephant in the room, or else he's likely to just turn into a roly-poly and scuttle away in fear of overstepping and ruining whatever friendship the two of you have and the luck his brothers stumbled onto. Just keep acting like everything is normal, and he'll bloom.

there's no hierarchy, other than brotherly ones that existed long before you. If someone wants/needs more time/affection, they simply ask for it. If you need time alone, you might have to lock a door or hang up a sign so everyone gets the message it doesn't turn into a revolving door of turtles checking in on you.

Date nights can be with one, two, or all four turtles. Only once was there a date planned while Donnie was shell deep in a project, and it was the one date that everyone agrees was a failure. After that debacle, Donnie gets dragged out of his proverbial dungeon anytime a 'four turtle date' is planned. While the brothers do plan one-on-one time with you, if you guys are hanging out in the lair chances are everyone will gravitate towards the commotion.

Sleep overs are probably the only time things can get complicated. You of course have the option to hole up in the guest room, and there's always sleep piles in the living area that happen often enough that Donnie went ahead and ordered extra mattresses to avoid the fuss of everyone having to drag half their bedrooms out into the Lair proper over and over, but sometimes you just want one snuggle buddy and you end up in one brother's room. It's the one time they'll get territorial over you, and it's an unspoken rule that if someone follows their nose to find you and ends up outside a personal space, they turn around and seek you out another time. It's the one rule not even Michelangelo tries to bend.

Turtle Pile

You woke up in the odd hours of the morning, the need to pee cutting into the bone deep contentment that had settled under your skin. You shifted, slowly, taking stock of where you were and how much wiggle room your turtles had allowed.

The lip of Raph's shell was a solid barrier over the edge of your hip and the line of one leg. He liked to have you up against him while he slept, the better to shield you in case something went wrong. He was laying the opposite direction of you, shoulder to shoulder with Leo, who had half draped himself over your lap and legs.

Leo's head was still tilted into the soft meat of your thigh where he'd been lulled to sleep mid conversation, breath slow and even, muscles twitching even in sleep.

Mikey had taken up your other side, arm snaked over your waist and leg hitched over what you were sure was suppose to be your closest hip, except Leo's shell was in the way. His face was propped close to yours, soft snores adorable, not quite as elevated as you were, and with no pillow to really protect his neck from Donnie's shell.

You were using the tallest brother as a pillow, as he laid out on his plastron, pining his legs and using the slope of his carapace as a make shift recliner. The reason you'd given him was to keep you safe in case someone shifted too much in their sleep, but the true intent was to keep him from sneaking back into his lab and half finished projects.

It was comfortable, safe, and warm, but the pressure in your bladder pinged again. With a soft sigh, you removed Mikey's arm and stretched, slinking up Donnie's shell to slide your legs out from under Leo.

His grip tightened, one sleepy blue eye opening to check on you. "What's wrong?"

It as more a rumble than words, but you understood , and whispered back, "nothing's wrong, just have to go pee."

He hummed, the sound low and familiar, and released you. "Climb back this way, you'll wake Dee."

"I've been awake, "came Donnie's clear, quiet voice.

You rolled your eyes, bracing a hand on one of the massive scutes on Raph's carapace and stepping over Leo's shoulder. "Make sure my pillow doesn't run off, Blue."

Leo gave a bare huff of sound, and you heard Donnie give an exasperated click in the back of his throat as Leo grabbed his brother's legs. "Yes, ma'am."

"Could be doing so much work right now." You heard Donnie grumble as you finished breaking free.

Your bare feet padded across the cool floor to the bathroom, soft steps not loud enough to mask Raph's equally irritated grouse:

"You'll have all weekend to work, nerd, now shuttup and sleep."

The door was just sliding shut when you heard Mikey's voice, the loud whisper practically a yell in the otherwise quiet space:

"Hey, where'd angel go?"

Followed by three sighs of various annoyance at the loud noise.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It has been too long since you heard from Bradley. Perhaps something went wrong. Or maybe he was avoiding you. Just when you start trying to accept that the last few months were too good to be true, things start to turn around again.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being sweet

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Days went by. With only two weeks left of Bradley's deployment, you weren't really expecting to receive air mail at school with your name on it, but you certainly did miss it anyway. Your students asked about him every morning, wondering if he'd sent a new email, hoping for another video with Marty. But you got nothing in either of your email inboxes.

He was on your mind almost constantly. What happened on his mission? Did the Navy decide it was okay to cut off communication right when you were completely attached to hearing from him? Did this really mean you had to wait until the aircraft carrier arrived back in San Diego? 

It was right before your students were due to arrive in your classroom that you had perhaps the most distressing thoughts of all. What if something went terribly wrong and he didn't survive? Or what if this was simply his way of ghosting you before he had to see you in person?

Jayden raced in ahead of the rest of your class, calling your name along the way. "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw write back yet?"

You pointed him toward his desk as you shook your head. "I already explained that he may not have time to respond before his deployment ends."

Jayden just bounced in place in front of you. "Then that means he can visit us when he gets back!"

Now a small group of your kids surrounded you, and you wished more than anything that you could tell them that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, their beloved pen pal, would definitely be visiting your classroom in a few short days. Instead you told them, "Please, take your seats so we can start our Natural History lesson."

This turned out to be your new normal. Every time you got an email notification, you jumped to unlock your phone, but it was never a message from Bradley. When you saw a box tucked in your mail cubby in the school office, you ran for it, only to find the science supplies you ordered weeks ago had arrived. You even forced yourself to go back and read some of the old emails from him, just to make sure it all really happened, but his words left you aching for more.

...I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies...

...You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?...

...Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head...

...And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when...

After nearly two weeks had gone by, you tried to figure out if the USS Theodore Roosevelt was back in port, but short of driving to North Island to see for yourself, you couldn't seem to find a solid answer online. And if you did drive there and found it at the dock, what were you supposed to do? Contact the US Navy? If they told you that nothing happened to Lieutenant Bradshaw and that he was perfectly fine, you'd be mortified. If they told you something in fact did happen to him in the last two weeks, you'd be devastated. That's assuming you could even get them to give you any information at all which was doubtful.

On Friday, you were on the verge of tears as you got ready for work. "You're being ridiculous," you whispered, and that fact made you want to cry even more. You tried to take the time to make yourself look presentable, thinking that may be the key to having a good day. Your outfit was cute. Your makeup looked nice. But you weren't smiling, and you didn't feel like doing so at all. 

You grabbed your bag, hoping the short ride with your favorite playlist would be enough to get your spirits up, but all you could think about was how you probably weren't cut out for life with a guy in the military anyway. Waiting around like this to see what was going on was making your stomach upset, and you weren't getting enough sleep. When you closed your eyes, you just pictured a very kissable face with a scarred cheek and big brown eyes.

"You need to focus," you scolded as you parked your car and headed into the school with your ID badge. You had eighteen kids who required your attention, and you'd once again give it to them, because you were fantastic at your job. 

This morning, Violet was the first one to mention Bradley in passing, and you had to shake your head. "Please find your seats. If I hear from Lieutenant Bradshaw, I promise I will let you know. I'm not hiding any letters or emails from you all, okay?" You tried to smile as you said, "I'd like to hear from him every bit as badly as you would. I can guarantee that."

You struggled through your morning lessons, often reminding yourself that you needed to focus on your students. Then you sat quietly at your desk with the classroom lights off during lunch, scrolling back through the dozens of emails you'd exchanged with Bradley on your phone. You pulled up the picture of the sun setting behind him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even though you tried, you couldn't find anything other than the most sincere expression on his handsome face.

Maybe he would text you this weekend, letting you know he was back and your date was on. You had to believe he would still contact you. When the bell rang, you counted to ten, and then your students came flooding back through your classroom door. They wanted to tell you all about how Jasper from Mrs. Wynn's class got in trouble during lunch, and you humored them before saying, "I'm sure none of you would misbehave like that in the cafeteria."

"No way!" Henry promised.

"That's what I like to hear," you told him with a forced smile. "Once you're all in your seats, we'll start our math lesson. Maybe I'll put a few aviation problems on the board at the end if you show me how well you can focus for the next twenty minutes."

You had just started copying the first fraction that you wanted to discuss from your notebook onto the board when there was a sharp knock on your classroom door. You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on the white board, knowing that another disruption would completely derail your kids after all the lunchtime nonsense. When you turned to face the door, they were already starting to chatter with each other. 

"Come in!" you called out, and every head in your room whipped around to see who was there and what they wanted. 

When the door swung open, the room went silent. The first thing you thought about was how peculiar it was to see someone in a khaki military uniform standing there. Then your eyes slid up that tall, muscular frame as your lips parted in surprise. As soon as you met his gaze, he smiled and said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

You couldn't speak. As he took a full step into your classroom and pulled the door closed, you finally noticed he was holding some pretty flowers. Then he was heading your way, his combat boots squeaking ever so slightly against the tile floor with each long stride. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't hesitating at all as he made his way directly to you while your students started talking again.

"It's Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

"I knew he'd come visit us ever since I asked him to!"

"Does this mean his deployment is over?"

"Why does he have flowers?"

He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of you, and the butterflies in your belly were fluttering so much, you were convinced you could float off of the floor. You weren't sure what else to say, so you simply whispered, "Bradley."

His smile grew as he said, "I love the way that sounds when you say it." You could only squeak in response, and his warm gaze flicked from your eyes down to your lips. At this rate you'd be a puddle at his feet in the next ten seconds. He swallowed hard, cheeks flushed as he leaned in closer, taking another small step forward until his boot gently bumped your shoe. His voice took on a raspier edge as said, "You told me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

He didn't stop slowly closing the distance, and when you reached out and let your fingers tangle with his, you whispered, "Please." Then you closed your eyes as his lips brushed feather light against yours. You gasped. He was here. Nothing had ever felt as good as this in your life. You opened your eyes to find him grinning right in front of you, and you chased him for another one of his dreamy kisses.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw kissed her!"

"I think they're in love!"

"They are definitely going to be girlfriend and boyfriend!"

Bradley wrapped his fingers around yours a little tighter as you and he laughed, and he ducked his head before looking up at your class. His cheeks were the most alluring shade of pink as he told them, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I decided to surprise you and your teacher."

"We don't mind!" shouter Oliver as he was practically sitting on his desk now in excitement. All of the kids were bouncing with anticipation, and you couldn't stop smiling as Violet clapped her hands together.

"Great, because I brought my responses to your last batch of letters, too. I can't thank you enough for being my pen pals for the last few months. You made my time away from home a lot more fun." He turned to look at you before softly adding, "And you made coming back home feel really good."

You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run your fingers along his scars and press your lips to his skin in their wake. You wanted to bury your nose against his neck and inhale the smell of his skin and his uniform collar. You wanted to feel his mustache on your lips. Instead, because every eye in the room was on the two of you, you told him, "I'm really happy you're here." You tugged on his hand so he was standing front and center, and you turned to your kids and asked, "What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?"

"Thank you!" they all shouted in unison.

"That's right," you told them. Then you looked up at Bradley, and he handed you the flowers with a crooked little grin, and that's when you noticed he had a small notebook in his hand as well. 

"Can I call each kid up to get their letter?" he asked, as if you would deny him anything at the moment. "Then I can put faces to all of the names."

You were still definitely at risk of melting. "You wrote each of them a personal letter again?" you asked him, holding your flowers to your chest and trying not to swoon.

"Yeah," he replied, opening his notebook to show you. He stood there, looking devastatingly sexy, tearing out a page for every kid. He called each of them up and talked to them for a minute. He remembered the name of Jayden's dog. He remembered that Violet loved neon-colored everything. He remembered that Henry said his grandfather was in the Navy. He remembered so much, and he was so willing to indulge all of their questions.

You just stood there with your flowers and watched this endearing man captivate all nineteen of you with his words. He let Oliver try on one of his insignia pins. He drew a diagram of an aircraft carrier on your white board. He met your gaze more often than not. He smiled at you every time he did. He told your students that the reason they were so smart was because you were such a good teacher. The butterflies were here to stay now.

When you looked around, you noticed that your kids were cherishing their personal notes just like you were your flowers. You didn't want this afternoon to end, and yet, as soon as the first bell rang at three o'clock, you jumped to attention. The sooner your students cleared out of the room for the weekend, the sooner you could hopefully have a few minutes alone with Bradley before he wanted to go home and rest.

"We need to pack up," you announced, finally setting the bouquet down on your desk while Bradly affixed his pin back on his uniform shirt.

"Do we have to?" whined Jayden. "Lieutenant Bradshaw like just got here!"

He had in fact been in your classroom for over two hours, but you couldn't blame them for wanting more. Bradley cleared his throat and looked at you as he said, "I could come back again?" with that sincere gaze you were already weak for. "Spend a few more hours answering questions? Maybe bring some engine parts with me?"

You bit your lip before you could whimper out loud, and he started to head in your direction. "We would love that," you told him.

"Yeah?" he asked you as your kids erupted into a rowdy mob, grabbing all of their belongings as the final bell rang.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, waving lazily to your students as they shouted their goodbyes to both you and Bradley. His steps had him reaching you right as the last few kids left your room, and you whispered, "You'll come back?"

He reached for your hand as he said, "I'll do anything you want, Gorgeous." He must have been able to read the needy look on your face, because when you tugged on his hand, he came all the way to you. His other hand ended up at your waist as his lips found yours, and this time, the feather light kisses deepened as you parted your lips. Bradley groaned softly, kissing you just right, and then he whispered, "I've been dying for this."

Your arms went around his neck, kissing him a little frantically, melting at his touch and the feel of his soft, wavy hair between your fingers. "Me too," you told him before pulling his bottom lip gently between yours. He backed you up until you bumped into your desk, and all you could think about was how good his weight would feel on top of you.

Your skin felt too hot when he finally broke the kiss, panting softly as you ran your thumb along his scars. "I didn't like not hearing from you the past two weeks," you told him, and his brown eyes softened even as his hold on you tightened a little bit. "It was... kind of scary."

"I didn't like it either," he told you. "And I was going to text you immediately when we docked this morning, but then I decided to just come here instead." He grinned as your fingers crept back up into his hair. "If they didn't let me sign in with my military ID in the front office, I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to see you."

You kissed his chin and said, "Usually I hate surprises. But this one was perfect."

"Okay, see, that's good information to know," he rasped. "I only got a ride home long enough to throw my duffle in the front door and hop in my Bronco. I stopped for the flowers, and then I just wanted to get here with my notebook."

You tipped your head back and whispered, "How am I supposed to deal with how sweet you are?"

"Oh! That reminds me," he muttered, rubbing his hand along your back before releasing you and strolling over to where he left his notebook on Oliver's desk. The way your body wanted you to follow him was surprising, but it gave you a chance to look at him again from head to toe as you stood next to your desk. There was nothing out of place on this man, and you pressed your lips together as his bicep flexed against his shirt sleeve. He tore another sheet of paper from his notebook and said, "I have one more note to deliver."

He walked back over to you, and when he held it up with a hopeful look, you took it from him and read.

Hey, Gorgeous. I couldn't wait one more minute to see you. And now that I'm here, I don't want today to end. Is there any way I can convince you to let me take you out for our first official date tonight instead of tomorrow? Bradley

When you looked up from the page, his eyebrows were raised, and that crooked little grin was hovering close to the surface. "I know I said to plan for tomorrow, but I can't fucking wait that long."

You bit down on your lip, shocked by how much better today turned out to be than you could have ever imagined earlier this morning. "Yeah. You've convinced me, Bradley. Tonight sounds perfect."

With that, you were treated to a little smirk beneath his mustache. He carefully took the sheet of notebook paper from your hands, set it down next to the flowers on your desk and proceeded to kiss you senseless.

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

He's going to make me hyperventilate. Those kids were SO excited to have him in their classroom, but they were nowhere near as excited as Gorgeous! He's home! And he wants to have his beach picnic and takeout and makeout sesh immediately. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[pha55ed]

Love | F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type :: fluff tw/cw :: none contains :: kimi!, pepe, paul request :: Heyy can you do the first kiss fics with pepe? It's up too you qnyway if you want to make it sligtly smut of fully fluff! (so many pepe requests!!! makes me so happy :D also i added paul as well ) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Nervous, sweaty hands, and a thousand thoughts were in his head: he was gonna shit himself. Although he's been with girls before and has experience, he's still so nervous for some reason. He prepared for this moment, thinking of it basically the entire day.

He took you out for a nice date, simple but still cute. It took him a few days to plan, but he was dedicated. It started with him picking you up, making sure he got you to wear something comfortable and cute. He took you around the city, making sure to drive past all of the best places to sight-see so you could take as many pictures as you wanted. Which was perfect since the sun was setting, hitting everything with the most beautiful light with a pink sunset.

He took you to eat dinner with him, eating your favorite food - something he made sure to note down in his notes app. The dinner was filled with laughs and stories. Ranging from stupid race gossip he's heard to your crazy classmates, he loved every bit of it. Talking to you made him forget all his worries for a moment.

After the dinner, he was right back to his old self - nervous and sweaty. He took you out to a sight seeing spot that only he knew, it was beautiful. It was high up on a hill yet there was a bench there, perfect for the two of you to look out onto the ocean. As the stars shined, something you rarely saw due to all of the light pollution in the city, you could only stare in awe.

But Kimi was staring in awe at you. The way you looked so effortlessly beautiful despite just spacing off and looking at stars had him mesmerized. He was completely enchanted by you, a spell that he didn't even want to break if he had the choice.

So as you silently stared at the stars, Kimi reached over. One of his hands resting on yours, making you stop looking outwards and turn to face him from the sudden touch - perfect. As he surprised you with a kiss.

He pressed against your lips, yet it was still sweet. As if you could tell everything from it, all the dots connected in your head. The reason why he seemed so anxious yet still so excited - all just for you. And you couldn't have felt more honored.

Pepe Marti | 21

Something about planned first kisses seem odd to Pepe, he's always thought that you just had to wait for the moment. So, he stuck with his belief, avoiding the hectic and anxious planning that Kimi does. Instead, he continues as usual whilst dating you, going on your third date.

He could tell that you were too nervous on the first date to kiss. He could also tell that you were too busy talking to him about your special hobbies that it would be impossible to stop you to kiss you. So, on the third date he finally saw the opportunity to kiss you.

Instead of the usual day time dates you went on, he took you out for a night date. The stars were out whilst you two ate dinner together, eating and talking about your lives. It was if you two were made for each other, there was never a pause in the conversation. And if there was a pause, it most likely to catch your breathe or just laugh.

So, after the date, he was confident that he wanted to kiss you. Almost as if he felt a strong NEED to kiss you to satisfy himself. His car drove up to your house, and before you could open your mouth to try and say goodbye - he kissed you.

Gentle, yet passionate. As if he was telling you how much he liked you whilst reminding you how he wanted to be gentle with you. His hand cupped one of your cheeks so easily, as if his hand was made to perfectly fit on your face. As he continued to kiss you, he couldn't help but smile. His lips didn't leave yours, instead spreading into a smile whilst pressing against your lips lightly. As if it was a disease, you couldn't help but smile too.

Paul Aron | 17

Being the youngest in his family, he's seen exactly what not to do - thanks to Ralf and his sister. Ralf is a gentleman now, always aware of how women feel. But that's all thanks to their sister, who has had a handful of bad encounters with men - all of whom she's complained about to both of her brothers.

Once Ralf was older and got busy with work, that meant that their sister could only complain to one brother: and that was Paul. Every bad thing she's ever experience was a quick lesson for Paul, no matter how simple it was. From a guy forgetting her name to a guy not respecting her dreams and hobbies, Paul learned that women weren't really that hard to understand.

So when he was with you, he wanted to make sure to never be like the gross guys his sister was with. When he took you out for your third date, he wanted to take things slow with you. But he couldn't stop this urge in him to want to kiss you.

Seeing you laugh at his stupid jokes, watching the sun hit your face and light it up, and seeing your cute outfit - god he wanted to just smoother you in kisses. But he knew he wasn't able to unless he did one thing: ask you first.

While you were laughing at yet another one of his jokes, he suddenly looked at you with a slightly serious face. You stopped laughing, seeing his mood shift. "Is everything okay?" You asked, confused on how he stopped smiling so quickly.

He then gets closer to you, making your breath get trapped in your lungs for a split second. Although he towered over you, you felt safe with him being so close to you. You knew he would never do anything to hurt you. He gently reaches out to you, his hand hovering on your cheek. He looks into your eyes, as if asking permission to hold your cheek - which you give a slight nod to him. Only after that nod does he touch you.

"Uhm... Well, I had a lot of fun and I really think you're beautiful and uhm." He says, gulping as the words get stuck in his throat. "I uh... Can I kiss you?" He says, his pointer finger sweeps a loose hair away from your hair and pushes it behind your ear.

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh. The way his face was lightly blushed and the way his spare hand was fiddling with his jeans was adorable. You looked up at him, once again giving him a small nod, to which he instantly beamed at.

He leaned down to kiss you, gentle and soft. Barely any pressure was applied to the kiss, as if he was scared to break you. You've seen him kiss his trophies more aggressively. As he pulls back, he pulls his hand back too. He can't help but smile, but he tries to hold it back as he tries to read your expression.

As he sees you smile back, he can't help but be glad that you liked it. He lets out a sigh of relief, the nerves from finally having your first kiss together was off his shoulders. You look at him and feel your mouth turn into a smile against your will, as a laugh escapes your lips.

For someone that's 5'11 and super buff, his bicep was almost the size of your head, he was still so sweet. He was the definition of a gentle giant when it came to you.

[ahaura]

Bones and All (2022) dir. Luca Guadagnino

Hélène Cixous, The Love of the Wolf

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

Maud Ellmann, The Hunger Artists

Catherynne M. Valente, The Bread We Eat in Dreams, “The Red Girl”

Marty McConnell, The Best American Poetry (2014) ed. David Lehman & Terrance Hayes, “vivisection (you’re going to break my heart)”

Start Web Weaving Text & Image IDs:

[Image ID (1 out of 6): Maren is eating Lee; the shot is focused on Maren. The shot is in black and white. End ID]

Hélène Cixous, The Love of the Wolf

[Text ID: I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow. End ID]

[Image ID (2 out of 6): Maren is clutching her father's father's coat to her chest on her bed as she cries, shortly after he abandons her. End ID]

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

[Text ID: I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it—to be fed so much love I couldn’t take any more. Just once. End ID]

[Image ID (3 out of 6): Maren and Lee sit across from each other in a diner; Maren is not looking at Lee and Lee is looking at her as he drinks coffee. End ID]

Maud Ellmann, The Hunger Artists

[Text ID: Since sexuality originates in seating, it is always haunted by the imagery of ingestion, having neither an object nor a territory proper to itself. Yet eating, in its turn, exceeds the biological demand for nourishment, for it expresses the desire to possess the object unconditionally. The infant sees his stomach as a safe in which he hoards his loot, thus learning his first lessons in private property. The genesis of secrecy may also be attributed to eating, for it is well known that the best way to keep a secret is to eat the evidence. {Highlighted} The stomach is a place almost as private as the grave. {End Highlight} End ID]

[Image ID (4 out of 6): In the dark of night outside of their blue pickup truck, Lee holds Maren's face in his hand. His face is bloody; he is shirtless. Maren's face is not visible to the camera. End ID]

Catherynne M. Valente, The Bread We Eat in Dreams, “The Red Girl”

[Text ID: I love you but there are things older and murkier than love. Things that live not in the heart but the entrails. I don’t want you to see me with the wolf. I don’t want you to see what he does to me. I don’t want you to see what I do to him. End ID]

[Image ID (5 out of 6): In daylight, Maren holds Lee; the viewer cannot see Lee's face. End ID]

Marty McConnell, The Best American Poetry (2014) ed. David Lehman & Terrance Hayes, “vivisection (you’re going to break my heart)”

[Text ID:When I say eat me I mean suck the bones clean, leave nothing

for the waiting, nothing for the vultures or the travelers to come. End ID]

[Image ID (6 out of 6): Maren is eating Lee; Maren's face is out of the shot but the viewer can see her hand on Lee's face as he screams. He is holding her hand to her face. The shot is in black and white. End ID]

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[httpiastri]

❣️I dont know if this is really a prompt, but could you write “aha!” moments for Paul, Pepe, and Ralf? Like when did they realize they wanted to date their person, what made them have that “aha!” moment. Thank you for considering this request.

❣️ – send me a prompt and one/a few drivers and i'll tell you how i think they would react!!

paul aron

paul's "aha!" moment is when he realizes how comfortable he is around you. it usually takes a lot for him to open up, and he doesn't do it with just anyone, so the fact that he feels so naturally relaxed with you makes him understand his feelings for you.

the exact moment comes one day when you're just casually spending time together at your apartment after he has come back from a race weekend. he's exhausted, his body aching with sore muscles and his mind crying out for some rest. usually, he would prefer to just be alone at home and sleep it off – but for some reason, he has come to enjoy being with you instead. there's just something about the way that you cook your signature dish for him without him even having to ask, the way you brush your fingers through his hair as he's snuggled to your side... the way he lets himself laugh so wholeheartedly to all of your jokes (even the not so funny ones). he realizes that he can let his guard down around you, which in turn makes him realize how special you are to him and how much he wants (needs) to keep you in his life.

pepe marti

pepe can be a whole baby when he's sick. it's not something he himself has realized before, and he hasn't believed his parents or sisters when they told him so. but when he's sick and he suddenly has you there to take care of him, he realizes how annoying and childlike he must be.

it's in one of these moments that pepe realizes his feelings for you. he's been sick with a fever for days, barely able to eat or do anything other than sleep. but oh how much better his life became the second you stepped in through his door and told him that you'd help him out. you cook for him, you help him take his meds, you keep the apartment clean... all of it despite the fact that he's clinging onto you like a baby 99% of the time.

he feels so guilty because you're spending so much time just on him when you have millions of other things you could do for yourself; but at the same time, he loves it and he almost wishes he could spend the rest of his life like this.

ralf aron

the thing that makes ralf realize that he likes you is the fact that you seem to get along so well with the people in his life.

he adores the way you act around his family; the way you became friends with his siblings in no time, the way you play around with his niece and nephew like they're your own younger siblings, the way you're so polite yet relaxed around his parents. he loves the fact that his mom loves you, and he's thankful that his dad approves too, because his family is important to him and he needs someone who fits right in.

the first time he brought you along to a race, he was so relieved to find you fit right in there, too. if you're someone naturally extroverted, he's thankful that you show off your bubbly personality on the side of the track aswell. and if you're naturally more introverted or shy, then he's pleasantly surprised to see the way that you seem so comfortable around his team despite how nervous you were before. the fact that you chat to his teammates without any issues, that his engineers and other team members adore you, and that the first thing he wants to do is search for you in the crowd when he's done racing...

the way you look so natural by his side, like your part in his life is no big deal, no matter where or when. seeing you in his life, he realizes that you're the missing puzzle piece to fit right into his side.