#probably some stupid flow thing

[orbitular]

guys genuinely . how is Jack the same age in the new teaser as he is in the beginning of Locked out of Heaven because I KNOW ‼️ it's been at least ten years ‼️ Leda did NOT turn into Night Swan overnight she has her GIANT TOWER??? that Jack is literally confirmed to be INSIDE in the beginning of LOoH so how is this possible

[robotsprinkles]

okay.

so I don't have anything against warhammer 40k (from what I've seen it seems pretty cool).

and I don't know enough about the general fanbase to have a solid opinion on it

but the subset of wh40k fans who're obsessed with barging into any discussion of various sci-fi factions and declaring that wh40k or even just the imperium could destroy said faction/universe — or in some cases literally saying "don't be salty just cus all your favorite settings get solo'd by a space marine lmao" really drive me up the wall

like. shut the hell up.

that 80-90% of the time I see someone bring up wh40k in contexts that aren't about 40k it's to announce just how 40k is so so so so much stronger than every other sci-fi series and could wipe the floor with them really doesn't paint 40k fans (and 40k by extension) in a great light

also — and I'm sorry for bringing up the Alternity every time this happens but I mean. if people are going to be stupid then so will I — have fun beating the Hytherion when it travels billions of years into the past and eats your entire galaxy (or universe) before it even forms

(yes, transformers alternity is stupid as hell. fun thing to bring up in stupid nerdfights over whose universe is the strongest though.)

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

For consideration—

Danny is many things. Student, hero, teenager, tired. Teenager and tired are shared, student is what he wants, and hero is what he has to be.

So when he’s fighting Val—Red Huntress, as dubbed by the general populace—and they get interrupted from their highly dangerous not-quite game of hide and seek by the Justice League offering her all of the training and support any hero could ever want… well.

It’s a good thing he’s already hidden, because he has no idea what to feel and ghost faces are significantly more stretchy and allow for frankly horrifying face journeys. He could just be a kid. He wanted to have mentorship. He wanted Valerie to be a great hero. He hopes she’s not getting dragged into it. He’s been given an out, possibly.

Or at the least, as Jazz would put in during the video call later that night, he could take a vacation.

Her reasons were fairly pure. He overworked himself by necessity, and he deserved time and rest and the ability to go for his own hobbies.

Danny’s were very much in the petty revenge territory. Blob ghost populations would be outright swarms in about two weeks, and that’s if the ectopi didn’t start hunting them as prey, sending them into a tizzy. Any bigger threats—well. Red Huntress was the hero, the only hero, as Superman said in his little ‘join us’ speech. Clearly, she’d been handling it so far. She’d be fine. There was even Justice League backing and support for her.

He still hid during ghost attacks. Everyone always thought he was scared of ghosts anyways and the rogue gallery had no qualms about kidnapping or otherwise targeting him as a regular teen.

Things… quickly spiral.

For Red Huntress, that is.

Suddenly, her new ghost alarm system that Batman helped her build is going off constantly. She expected an uptick, but she’s gotten maybe five hours of sleep in about as many days. It was a good thing that one of the support benefits was a paycheck, because if she hadn’t quit Nasty Burger they certainly would have fired her by then. Her grades were slipping, even with her best efforts, and her mentors who were supposed to help weren’t listening to her.

It wasn’t them ‘challenging her beliefs’ and asking her to ‘really consider if ghosts are always your enemy’ that made her fights suddenly harder. It wasn’t some adjustment period to her new training. There was just ghosts, all the time, constantly, and she didn’t even know what to do with all of them. She always just ran them off, and she had assumed they went home. She hadn’t realized the reason Phantom always captured them was because otherwise they just would not leave.

And Phantom. He was one of her rogues, play acting as hero for people he’d just put into danger. Sometimes he did—kind of—help, but it seemed more coincidental. A giant bobcat in the yard keeping the bears away sort of situation. Still dangerous, still unknown, no matter how similar he looked to something or someone friendly.

But. He’d been MIA since their last fight. And she didn’t know why.

Sure, she could guess that maybe he had heard the whole acceptance into the Junior League, or whatever it was called, that had happened. And with his whole ‘hero’ shtick, he’d maybe be a little weird about it. Not emotional, ghosts didn’t have true emotions. No matter what Black Canary was currently researching on the topic, Valerie was sure of it.

Just like she’d been sure that she was actually helping Amity Park.

If she heard one more property damage assessment, she’d strap one of her ecto guns to the lecturer and let them have a crack at it. Ghosts didn’t care about material things that mattered to other people. They might have attachments to certain types of objects or things they considered ‘theirs’, but if that thing was a living human’s… it didn’t matter, it’d be taken or broken just the same.

Sam was, of course, leading a small protest asking for Phantom’s return. She and Danny had at least three fights about it, and it wasn’t pretty.

Paulina had a different approach to the same issue, asking for recognition of her ghost boy.

Tucker was egging both on, mostly to distract Sam from actually bothering Danny, but also because he loved a good cat fight.

Danny was getting so much sleep, and he’s getting caught up in school. Sure, the school is usually at least a little on fire these days, but he actually read the assignment book for Lancer’s class. That hadn’t happened like, ever! And his Doom stats were getting pretty high, since the only grinding he had to do now was against virtual enemies that didn’t try to snap his spine… Technus notwithstanding.

As these things usually happen, Valerie blames Phantom for all of her woes, again. The Fenton Parents, being thoroughly exhausted at this point as well, completely back her.

And Danny has had a lot of time to rest and think on the actions of himself and others.

He’s been declared a menace, again. And he’s kind of tired of people not realizing that if he WANTED to be a villain, he could be. He wanted his town safe, and honestly, the ghost populace explosion was getting annoying. Red Huntress’s last “big fight” had nearly killed someone.

… He wouldn’t be Dan, oh no. He wouldn’t cause damage, he’d prevent those from being hurt, and he would generally look at the Hero Guideline Handbook he had… temporarily borrowed and copied from Val’s backpack. He’d be campy and totally not serious to anyone who didn’t realize he actually was just playing around. And him actually taking on ‘big fish’ persona in Amity Park’s ‘little pond’ should help get rid of at least some of the lower level guys.

It’s not like it’s be hard, honestly. He’d get to make his own hours, at least. And since Valerie saw Fenton as someone to protect, someone that he well knew she broke up with to ‘keep him safe’, she wouldn’t think of him twice as being Phantom. Danny wouldn’t use their friendship against her, but he could easily admit that it was a little scummy to do. But. Well. He’d always fought a bit dirty, and she had literally tried to kill him. Multiple times.

If Red Huntress was going to be a villain-like Hero, then it was simple.

Phantom just had to be a hero-like Villain.

Prompt

The justice league FINALLY investigates Amity, and realizes that they’ve made a grave mistake by letting a burgeoning hero shoulder a large problem without any training or support. They rectify this immediately by offering a position in the JL along with an assortment of mentors and other teen heroes to bond with. 

Red Huntress receives this invitation in front of Phantom, while actively trying to hunt him down.

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 6: Where…?

The first thing out of your mouth when you wake is a low, discontent groan as your hands fist the blankets around you. Your head and eyes throb. For a good several minutes, you remain completely still - no motivation to move from your semi-comfortable position. You really can’t drink like you used to, huh?

Eventually you work up the courage to crack your eyes open. At least the curtains are closed. The room takes a minute to focus, and the first thing you notice are the incorrectly colored sheets - lacking the usual floral print. You frown, grunting as you sit up. The second thing you notice is the t-shirt and sweatpants you’re currently wearing - not yours and easily a couple sizes too big. They have to belong to someone wide and tall to not be fitted on you. You don’t remember going home with anyone…

You take a moment to look around. It’s a decently sized room with minimal decor. A few art prints line the walls and the closet is in perfect order - separated by type and color. Though, most of it appears to be black. The bed is huge. Tall, too, you realize as you slowly slip your way out of it, nearly tripping on the long fabric of the sweatpants you’ve been dressed in. Glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the wall, you realize your makeup is gone and your hair is braided. There’s a dark wooden dresser and a matching desk with a laptop and sketchbook neatly placed on top. You wander over nosily, squinting down at the book. Oh shit! Oh shit, that’s Simon’s sketchbook. You’d recognize that collection of skull pattered stickers anywhere.

The sound of clinking pans and the scent of bacon slowly registers. Did… did you somehow end up going home with him? There’s no way, right? You remember asking him to dance, you remember him being surprisingly good and… and… that’s about it. On top of the dresser is your outfit from the night before, neatly folded with your bra tucked underneath. Your face heats and you cover your chest.

After a quick self inspection (and a nervous check for condoms in the trash) you decide you’re pretty sure you didn’t fuck anyone. Probably. Hopefully. What happens if you did? Would Simon tell John? Should you tell John? Will it make things awkward? Will he fire you? Oh, you really don’t want to lose this job. It’s the best you’ve ever had and you really, truly love all your boys so much. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes both to soothe the ache in them and to bite back tears.

You’ve always been such a stupid girl.

After giving yourself a few minutes to sit on the bed and properly freak out, flapping your hands in an attempt to get that nervous energy out of your system, you decide it’s time to face the music.

You slip your bralette back on before slowly cracking open the bedroom door. The short hall is mostly shadowed, lights off and the sun drifting in from what you assume is the living room. The door across from you is closed and to your left is a rather nice, spotless bathroom.

You peak your head out into the living room. It’s large and open, flowing into the kitchen as hardwood becomes tile and an island with stools between the two. Simon is the source of the clinking, apparently, moving around the stove like it’s second nature. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised he can cook - he’s a grown man - but there’s something about the way he arranges the plates, the from-scratch ingredients, that tells you he does actively enjoys it.

It’s cute.

Johnny and Kyle sit on a well loved couch just a few feet from you, both focused on some TV show you don’t recognize. A slow frown forms on your face, turning into shock as the door beside you opens. You nearly jump out of your skin as John appears beside you in a robe and plaid pajama pants.

A soft smile splits his face. “Mornin’, dove.”

“Och, she’s awake!” Johnny grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face you.

You blink dumbly, head pounding and gut churning as you step closer to stand beside the couch. Without thinking you blurt, “You all… live together?”

“Course.” Kyle pipes up, looking at you as well. As if you were supposed to have known that already.

You melt to the floor in a hungover heap. “Oh, thank god!”

Johnny laughs. “Why thank god?”

“I was so scared I did something stupid…” Your voice cracks as you press your cheek to the cool hardwood. You didn’t fuck anyone, you didn’t embarrass yourself, you were simply taken care of. The relief alone almost makes you want to cry. Though, that’s probably the hangover more than anything.

“Oh, love.” Kyle reaches down to soothe a hand over your hair. “We wouldn’t have done anything like that, yeah?”

You nod.

“Sorry it scared you.” John murmurs, crouching to set a mug of coffee on the floor beside your head. “We didn’t feel comfortable sendin’ y’home alone.”

You nod again, slowly pushing yourself up to grab the mug. The bitter taste of black coffee makes you cringe, but it wakes your system up and seems to push your hangover down to a tolerable level.

“I should go home…” You sigh, not moving a single muscle off the floor where you currently sit.

“Not before you eat somethin’.” Simon calls from the kitchen.

You take the opportunity to look around the living room. The sun has been mostly blocked out by barely cracked curtains. There’s a little bit of each of them in it - artwork scattered across the walls. A few photos - one of John and Simon that looks like the opening of the shop. The leather pride flag sticker stuck on what looks like a toolbox doesn’t escape your notice. Probably John’s. You’ve never seen another man with such well cared for boots and leather coats. Maybe that’s assumptive. There’s a game boy and a PS5 behind the 4K television. Your eyes follow the rather extensive sound system to a massive CD organizer. There’s a short hall on the opposite side of the apartment where you assume the other two rooms are. Everything is so… homey. Comfortable.

“Wait, who’s clothes are these?” You ask suddenly, staring down at the oversized t-shirt and tightly tied sweatpants that pool at your feet awkwardly.

“Mine.” Simon shrugs, setting a plate on the coffee table for you before handing two more off to Johnny and Kyle.

“Comfy.” You hum, eyes zeroing in on the large breakfast in front of you - plate piled high with bacon, sausage, and waffles.

“Ye can sit up here wit’ us.” Johnny pats the empty couch beside him.

You think for a moment before shaking your still aching head. “Don’t think I should stand up yet.”

The food is even better than it looks. For a Brit Simon actually knows how to handle his flavors.

You groan as a particular rough throb stabs at your temple. “I don’t remember drinking enough to be this hungover…”

“Johnny can be very convincing.” Simon rumbles, stabbing a piece of sausage.

“What do you remember?” Kyle leans forward a bit to reach for his coffee.

You shrug. “I remember dancing. That’s kind of where it stops.”

“At least you got to skip the part of the night where Johnny starts rantin’ about chemistry math.” Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Och! Ye love my chemistry talk! It’s the structure of the universe! It’s-“

“Yap yap yap.” Kyle opens and closes his hand in a mocking ‘blah blah blah’ motion.

Kyle helps Simon clean up. You try to insist to let you help as well, but they won’t hear of it. John offers to let you stay the day and sleep off your hangover but you shake your head, wanting nothing more than to take a burning hot shower in your own bathroom - as fun as hanging around with them all day sounds. So, you slip into Simon’s room to change back into your own clothes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kyle rest a hand on Simon’s lower back. A light touch, but solid. You don’t have the wherewithal to think about it.

You peel off Simon’s clothes and put yours back on with a wrinkled nose. There’s something so gross about it, not that you’re clean right now anyway. Thank god you had the foresight to not wear underwire. You order yourself a car on your mostly dead phone as you wander back out to the living room. Your skirt suddenly feels far too exposing for the daylight.

You chew your lip. “My driver’s five minutes out… so, I’ll see you guys Wednesday?”

“I’ll walk you down.” John grunts, pulling himself up out of the arm chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” You pause when he gives you that look you’ve come to recognize as ‘don’t argue, I’m doing it anyway.’

You give a round of goodbyes to the others who make no movement to get off the couch, fully sunken in. Johnny has sprawled over the L part of the couch with an arm over his eyes and a water bottle in hand.

“Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry if I got too, uh, sloppy or whatever.” You murmur as the elevator makes for the lobby.

John chuckles. “No more than Johnny ever does. I’m glad you came. Lookin’ forward to the next one.”

You heart skips as you nod. “Me too.”

John leans forward just as your driver pulls up, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Your back stiffens and your stomach flutters - face hot as he pulls away.

“See you at the shop.” He nods, sauntering back into the building like he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

Bonus:

“No, ye need an oil cleanser first.” Johnny slurs. “Tha’s how ye get the - hic - the makeup off.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t teach you everythin’ you know about skin care y’muppet.” Kyle snipes back as he digs through the drawers under the counter.

“Workin’ on yer John impersonation, I see.” Johnny snickers. Kyle bats at his arm.

You just giggle, seated on the toilet in Kyle and Johnny’s shared bathroom and swaying back and forth. Simon leans in the doorway, watching as the two drunkenly try to help you get your makeup off. All three of you bursting out into another fit of giggles when Kyle squeezes your round cheeks to make a fish face. It occurs to him that he’s never seen you bare faced. None of them have. Not that you come in everyday with a full beat but even so, there’s something intimate about it. To him, at least. Something about you perched in their apartment, in his clothes, having Johnny smudge moisturizer over your face while Kyle braids your hair to keep it from tangling overnight.

The three of you fit together so well…

John puts on a stupid action movie. Something to distract everyone as you wind down and sober up before bed. You snuggle up to Johnny, unsurprisingly, tucking yourself under his arm with your head on his chest. He’s practically Pavlov’d you into constantly touching each other. Just like he did with the rest of them. He jumps a bit when you press your socked feet to his thigh, humming comfortably. There’s a stupid grin plastered across your face.

“Alright, off to bed with you.” John chuckles as you snore comfortably on Johnny’s chest. The Scot is equally asleep, your chests rising and falling in an asynchronous rhythm. John loops his arms under your back and knees, just as strong as he’s always been, carefully cradling you against his chest as he takes you to Simon’s room.

Simon follows, glancing sideways at your clothes in his dresser. You groan as John lowers you but don’t wake up - well and truly passed out.

Simon pauses for a moment before following John out, staring down at you. He’s no better than the others, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions. So, he reaches down, and swipes a thumb over your slightly parted lips. Just as soft as he thought…

He settles into John’s bed, the frame creaking under their combined weight. Neither of them are particularly slight, after all.

“Glad y’danced tonight.” John mutters, reaching over to turn off his lamp.

Simon just grunts.

“She’s good for you.”

“She’s good for us.” He blurts, immediately wanting to shove the words back down his throat.

To his surprise, John just nods, turning to sling an arm over Simon’s waist. “She is.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for enjoying this series with me, it means a ton! I’m sorry I’m not very good at responding to replies/asks but I really do love and appreciate you all!

Hope you’re pumped for the next part bc I am

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 14 ] || [ Chapter 16 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.9K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: white-knighting johnny.

Chapter 15: Mo leannan

Johnny isn’t stupid. 

Or blind, for that matter.

Since the first time that Ghost went on that ‘date’, he’s noticed how different he’s been acting.

And weeks ago, he caught him and Gaz leaving base together in civvies. Civvies that neither of them would wear to go out for just a pint.

And either way, if they were going out for a pint, they’d have invited him and Price to go with.

No, this was different.

Personal.

And when they came back, and for the days after, he caught them sneaking glances at one another.

They’d exchange this sort of… look, that he couldn’t quite decipher.

But he could swear Ghost was smirking behind that balaclava of his…

And Gaz would bite his tongue before looking away.

It kept happening… The two of them disappearing for the night over the course of a few weeks, and coming back just in time for morning training.

Both of them way too glued to their phones…

His brain filled in the blanks as best as it could… 

And it decided that they were in love, Ghost and Gaz. 

That they were sneaking off base to get together in secret…

That they would text each other sweet nothings…

That they would exchanges glances to signify ‘I love you’s they couldn’t say aloud.

And, well, it was none of his business…

But it kind of stung a bit that he wasn’t trusted with it.

So, he tried probing.

Just a little.

Going up to Gaz during training and sort of nudging at him, poking him to see if he could get a reaction.

He made up some lie about having a date and asking Gaz if he needed help finding one too. The other lad said no with a decisive head shake.

Then, another day, he told him a story he heard of some sergeant, their age, who was caught in a relationship with a superior in their direct chain of command. And he didn’t miss the way Gaz’s eyes darted away before he muttered how stupid those soldiers were.

But Gaz didn’t fess up to anything…

And Soap wasn’t about to go up to Ghost and try the same… 

So he froze his investigation for a moment.

And he picked it up right. now.

As he stands on the next aisle at the corner shop, getting a few snacks to stock up on, he hears Simon’s distinct voice… it seems to be coming from a phone.

Peeking over what does he see if not you, listening to a voice memo with the butt of your phone against your ear, thinking the volume is low enough not to bother anyone else.

And it is low, but Johnny has good hearing, and could recognize his L.T.’s voice anywhere.

The audio is long and you’ve been listening to it for a while and giggling at it occasionally as you put things into your basket that hung from the crook of your elbow.

He’s sure you’ve been listening to the audio for like 4 minutes now, just a constant flow of Simon’s voice into your ear, probably telling you some sort of story.

Now there was something Soap hadn’t considered.

An extra piece of the puzzle…

He recognizes your face from a couple months ago on Tinder, when all four of them matched with you and, jokingly, Johnny said to Price, Gaz and Ghost that he did all the work in getting you with Price…

There was no way Ghost and Gaz were meeting up with you, was there?

Could they just have a new friend? Or… could you be more?

Thinking of approaching you and asking you directly, Johnny only catches on too late that someone is beelining right for you.

A tall, lanky bloke, maybe 6ft1 or 6ft2, with a look like he’s ready to kill someone stops grabs you by the shoulder and spins you around.

Your eyes double in size and recognition. “Who do you think you are?” He asks you.

“What the fuck do you want, Ethan?” You complain as you tap around on your phone, probably pausing the voice memo and sticking your phone in your pocket.

“What do I want?” He asks you with a humorless laugh. “I want to find out why the fuck you’re suddenly having multiple other blokes over at the flat for the whole night.” He replies.

Johnny’s eyebrows raise as he watches the scene from around the corner into the aisle.

“Since when is that any of your business? And how do you even know? Have you been spying on me?” You ask him, taking a step back.

“Spying? No. But multiple times now I’ve gone to your flat to get the rest of my things and when I was in the elevator got surprised by seeing a bloke going in or out of there.” Ethan reveals.

“Oh, piss off, Ethan!” You retort.

“You’re not denying it.” He replies. “That’s it, innit? You decide to break up with me, saying how you “deserve better” and you’re “not happy” and now you’re going around with a bunch of other blokes?” He says and chuckles dryly again.

“Oh, you’re such a knobhead!” You insult him, your feelings slightly bruised. “How dare you, honestly?! I’m not-” You add.

“You selling yourself now, ‘s that it?” He asks mockingly. “There was an old one leaving in the morning a couple months ago… now there’s black one too… And I’m pretty sure I saw one with a mask the other day. Your clients’ too embarrassed to show their faces around you, huh?” He taunts you.

“I’m sure if I went back tomorrow I’d find another bloke slipping out the door, wouldn’t I?” He continues, his words venomous. “I saw three so far, but I’m sure there’s been more. How many, hm?”

“Oh, my, God… You’re disgusting!” You tell him as you take a step back again, your fingers tightening around the handle of your basket. “I’m not selling myself, not that I need to justify anything to you! Now get away from me!”

“What’s wrong, lovie? You’re embarrassed to say that the break-up was all just an excuse for you to go around and be a whore?” He continues taunting you.

Johnny ses the panic in your eyes and before he can think about it, he’s standing behind this ‘Ethan’, who seems to be your ex. 

“They said ‘Get away from me’, I think that’s your cue, mate.” Johnny remarks with disdain dripping from his voice. Ethan turns and looks down to find Johnny. 

Johnny’s a palm shorter than him, at only 5ft10, but he’s built like a brick shithouse. Big, beefy arms, broad shoulders, strong pecs… Not to mention he’s in full military garb, minus the vest and pistols. 

His appearance is more than enough to strike a bit of fear in men taller than him… And Ethan is definitely intimidated.

“This doesn’t concern you. I’m talking to my partner.” Ethan tries defending himself.

“I don’t think so.” Johnny replies and stalks around him to your side. “Way I see it, they’re my partner.” He bluffs easily while snaking his arm around the small of your back.

He prays that you play along, silently hoping that you remember him, if nothing else, from Tinder.

“Yours?” Ethan sputters and glares at the two of you. You look up at Johnny like he’s your saving grace and lean closer to him, as a sign you recognize him and appreciate the help.

“Aye, mine.” Johnny replies with a curt nod. “This is that Ethan you’ve been telling me about, mo leannan?” [my love] Johnny asks you as his hand gently rubs your back.

Looking up at Johnny, you end up nodding in agreement. “Yeah…” You say softly, knowing that you can’t quite lie, because Ethan knows you well enough to pick up on it.

“I figured.” Johnny says as he looks at Ethan again, playing the part of the overprotective boyfriend pretty well.

“All these blokes ye’ve been ‘seeing’ out of their flat are my mates.” He explains and forces a crooked, not-quite-nice smile on his lips. “They were making sure they were alright, safe and sound, while I was overseas.” Johnny gestures to his outfit.

The realization that you are ‘dating’ a serviceman seems to extinguish whatever revolt was inside Ethan’s body immediately, like a candle that has been blown out.

Johnny lies like it’s second nature to him. His pulse and his breath are not wavering… And you can tell, because the way he has you pressed against him, you can hear both.

You finally realize what Simon told you months ago about “lying enough” while on the job and striving for honesty when he’s out of it… These soldiers are trained to lie like it’s nothing.

“And frankly, now that I saw ye accostin’em like this in a public place, I’m glad I didn’t skimp out on asking my mates to keep an eye on m’eudail.” [my darling] Johnny continues. 

“Now, if you don’t mind. We have shopping to do before we go home. So how about ye piss off?” He concludes and smiles politely. “Or else this is gon’ get very ugly.” He adds and his eyebrows shoot up in a silent lunge of a challenge.

Ethan doesn’t seem to quite believe the lies, but at the same time he’s intimidated enough to not try and argue. So he grumbles under his breath, throws his hands up in an exasperated groan and turns on his heel to walk back out of the store.

Only when he’s fully out of sight and Johnny’s sure the coast is clear, does he unwrap his arm from around you. “Ye alright?” He asks you. “Sorry for the sudden manhandling, could tell ye needed a hand… and had to get ‘im away from ye somehow.” He adds, apologetically.

You nod and look away a bit sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” You say softly as you fix your grip on your shopping basket.  “Just never thought something like this would happen.”

Johnny nods as he looks at you, noticing your face seems extremely stressed, set into a grimace that he does not like. You’re clearly shaken up.

“Hey, it’s alright. He’s gone.” He tells you calmly and taps you lightly on the shoulder. “Do ye need me to walk ye home?” He suggests.

Nodding softly, you force yourself to smile. “I think… I think that’s a good idea.” You end up saying.

Johnny nods as well. “Want me to call Simon and Kyle to meet ye there?” He asks.

Your head snaps up to look at him and your eyes widen. “You… you know?” You ask him in surprise, your breath catching in his throat.

“They’re not as discreet as they wish they were.” Johnny says, once more lying through his teeth. 

He would never admit it took him the better part of two months to realize Simon and Kyle were ‘together’, and that it only clicked they’re together with you right now… the confirmation having come from your stalker-y ex.

“Oh…” You say sheepishly and clear your throat awkwardly.

“It’s alright, I promise.” He assures you. “I’m not judgin in any way. They’re my mates, ye ken?” He adds in a surprisingly gentle tone. “Just tryin’ to help.”

From the stories you’ve heard out of Kyle and Simon, and even Johnny’s own bio on Tinder, you’d never have guessed he was so tender… They always described him as an anger-prone, grown-up class clown… And yet here he is.

Gulping down a breath, you nod. “Yeah… Please.. And I can… I can tell them what happened when we’re home.”

“Alright.” Johnny replies. “Ye wanna finish yer shopping first or d’ye wanna just go?” He asks you carefully.

“I… I’ll just get what I’ve already got in the basket… I want to get out of here…” You add as you shuffle toward the one register counter of the small corner shop.

“Right behind ye.” Johnny remarks as he follows after you.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[leonkennedygvrl]

My father loves me with every inch of his manhood.

real dad leon x virgin reader

🌹 warning: 18+, p in v, oral (m recieving), creampies, incest, size difference, dead dove, tummy bulge, squirting, rape kink, baby trapping, murder, gore, leon’s gross and weird so beware! and enjoy :)

divider credits to @firefly-graphics

Oh, what a mistake she was! Leon felt a fool for thinking she was the one, maybe the sex was satisfying at first but God slicing through her felt even better. Her pussy was never tight enough anyways, and he’s a man with needs. That’s why he made you watch. Pretty little daughter, hardly resembles her whore of a mother. You’re trapped in a cage down in the basement, watching your daddy straddle your mommy.

And flesh was ripping. Audible. Blood was everywhere, flowing. Her eyes were wide. Just like her wounds as he slowly plunged the knife back inside her body. Again, again, and again. Ignoring your muffled cries, stupid silly girl. It’s okay, he had plans for you.

“Dad—daddy, please stop! She’s dead! Mommy’s dead!” You screamed with all your might, but it only earned a raspy chuckle. You were just… so shocked to be disgusted by your father. And even more so when he stood up and grabbed your mother’s hair, shoving her face against the glass you were behind. A gasp leaving your lips, her face was fucked up. You didn’t want to look at it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, hiding behind your palms as you turned away.

“She’s prettier like this, baby. No? You don’t think so?” Leon asked, her neck was slit. A gaping cut, multiple stab wounds over her décolletage. Blood coating her jewellery that he bought her, maybe he’d pass it down to you. That shit was expensive. Plus, you liked pretty things. Pretty girls did. And you were very, very pretty. That’s why he was hard, and it was not because he’d murdered your mother.

Okay, maybe a little bit. He liked the control. He watched you sob, back hunched over that he could see your spine in the cute dress you wore. You were such a sweetheart, your closet consisted of a fashionista’s dream! Heels, frilly socks, garters, purses and accessories. Much better than your mom, she was just basic. At least to him.

“Baby, it’s alright. I love you, that’s all that matters. You don’t need mommy.” He cooed, releasing the grip on her hair and kneeling down, watching as you meekly peeked through to look at him. Soggy tears all clumped together and your lips pouted. He felt his stomach flutter. “Yeah, attagirl. Cm’ere, I’d never hurt you.”

You always wondered why you were just a little bit fucked up in the head, yes mommy’s death hurt but daddy was just so much more important. Mommy couldn’t protect you, her press-ons would probably fall off if she even tried. But daddy was strong and he’d tear down anything to help you. Your shaky hands touched the ground, crawling over to him and pressing your palm against the glass.

“But you hurt mommy.” You doubted. Foolish, right? You expected him to be irritated but his eyes were soft as he looked down at you, but there was something in there. Something dark. Something that wanted to ruin you. He pressed his own palm to the glass, so much bigger than yours. “I miss mom, please… she—she…”

“Shh, don’t worry about her. You gonna let dad come in there with you?” Leon asked, he was dirty with blood but his dick hurt the longer he looked at you. In his eyes, you were perfect. You just needed a little tweaking. His dick could do that.

You looked at your mother’s limp body, wanting to puke. You should’ve hated your dad, but you couldn’t. You actually think you hated your mom a little more, she wasn’t the greatest individual.

Little feet of yours pattered on the ground, you were just a toddler in need of some love. Dad was never around, at least not much. He was gone for weeks at a time, so you’d always go to your mother but she was busy as well. On the phone, talking to Katie. Katie was her best friend since university, and as much as you stood by her legs, grabby hands wanting to be picked up, she paid no mind to you.

“No, no, no. I told her she couldn’t just nitpick about everything, Katie! She just doesn’t listen, and now she wants my advice? That’s not happening.” Your mother scoffed into the phone, hardly sparing you a glance as she shooed you away and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Honestly, I’m glad Mark cheated on her. Maybe that would teach her a lesson.”

Or another time when you were a little older, just beginning elementary school. You were scared. You were never good at socialising, and as your mother opened the car door she ushered you out quickly, still on the phone.

“Oh my, really? That’s great news, I’m sure Graham is a nice guy. Is the ring good? I mean, if he isn’t emptying his wallet on you then he’s probably not going to be a great husband Katie.” Your mother chatted, and you looked up at her, hoping for at least some reassurance.

No, she didn’t care much about you. You were just an annoying addition to the family because Leon wanted children. That’s when she got a little turned off, but she stuck with him because he gave her cash. And while he was off on missions, you observed everything.

Also, the first day wasn’t great. You got bullied.

Teen years you were a little smarter, always eavesdropping on your mother. But she started getting a little TMI with Katie, and you figured it was just the best friend privilege. You didn’t have much of that growing up, kids avoided you.

“He’s perfect, Katie. He has it all, you know? I don’t know why I even bothered with Leon, he’s such a prick sometimes. He doesn’t make any time for me and it’s just frustrating! Like, you know that italian restaurant I told you about? A few months ago, they had an all you can eat and I told him about it and guess what,” your mother rambled, openly admitting her afair. This is where you held a dislike for her deep down because how dare she? “He went on another goddamn mission!”

You thought back to all of that as you stared at your mother’s dead body, maybe dad was right. She deserved this, you don’t know why you felt guilty. So you nodded, and the grim smirk that had crossed his face made you a little uneasy.

Leon stood back up, digging into his pocket for the key to the cage and once he entered, he almost orgasmed in his pants at the sight of you looking up at him from the ground. He shoved you back against the glass, eliciting a little confused noise from your lips before his bulge was in your face and you felt sick.

“Oh, baby. You didn’t think I was going to come in ‘ere and pamper you or something did you?” Leon asked rhetorically, not much care in his tone as he unzipped his jeans and pulled his dick out of the confines. Big, bigger than the ones you’ve seen in porn. Except they were all circumcised and bare to fit standards but he wasn’t, his pubic hair was shaggy and he pulled his foreskin back.

“D—dad, no! This is wrong!” You exclaimed, feeling the bulbous tip press against your lips making you tilt your face to the side.

And now the softness was gone as he grabbed the hair atop your scalp, tugging hard and straightening your head. It hurt, your lips parting in surprise.

“Shut up, pretty. Should be thanking me, mmm..” Leon cut himself off with a groan as he pushed into your warm, wet mouth. Your tears had come back, streaming down your puffy cheeks as your lips stretched around his cock. “Been working for so damn long, providing for you. Got you cute things to make you happy and I got rid of that fickle bitch.”

He felt your throat stutter around his dick as you gagged, making his abdomen clench. Tight mouth, tight pussy, pretty face and a cute body. It made sense though, he made you after all. And he knew that deep down, you liked this shit. You could’ve used your hands to stop him, but you didn’t.

“Hm, smart girl.” He praised, pulling almost all the way out and then shoving his hips forward. A warm and gooey sensation in his gut, he could’ve cum right there. Your mom didn’t like blowjobs, figured it’d give her wrinkles. As if she wasn’t boxed up on botox. That he paid for.

“You just need dad, I know you do.” Leon repeated the action, feeling your hands finally press onto his thighs but you made no attempt go push him off — instead your nails dug into his skin, your vision blurred with tears as you watched him, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

And his words, well, they made your panties feel wet. You didn’t know what it was because the only time it felt like this was when you got your period and didn’t realise you needed pads, you avoided tampons; doing enough research because ignorant momma didn’t want to teach you a thing, and you heard of TSS and it scared you.

Your throat was constricting the harder he thrusted, lips closing around his dick until your cheeks hollowed out. You were sucking his dick, like a popsicle. Because in a depraved way, you liked the taste. It was musky but clean, like he used soap on it or something. And your nose was buried in his pubes each time he bottomed out, different variations of grunts leaving his mouth.

“God, better than your mom. So much better,” Leon moaned weakly, tightening his grip on your hair as he thrusted with increased fervour. He just wanted a taste, he didn’t want to cum inside this pretty mouth. Save that for another day. “But you don’t need to breathe, right baby?”

“Ggmmph—“ You tried, feeling his fingers pinch your nostrils effectively suffocating you as he stilled his movements. Your throat was even tighter now, and he felt jittery, biting down hard on his lip. He always wanted to choke a girl this way.

When you started turning all blue, he pulled out of your mouth and grinned darkly, pulling his hand away as your mascara was running down your face and your nose was all snotty. Cute. He liked the messy type.

“Sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?” Leon asked condescendingly, putting his hands beneath your armpits and forcing you to stand up as you coughed and stuttered, feeling brainless and dizzy. You couldn’t reply, the world was spinning right now and your dad was about to rape you. And you were letting it happen.

For two reasons, you knew it was absolutely pointless to try and stop him and you didn’t hate this. You remember a few accounts on twitter that post incel porn and you would cum faster to that, rubbing your clit.

“Time to test your pussy, but I hope you don’t mind honey. Dad doesn’t have a woman now, you made me kill her.” Leon muttered, bunching the hem of your dress up at your hips and pressing his fingers against the soaking wet gusset of your panties, feeling your engorged clit.

“You little slut, you’re getting off to this. You’re wetter than ever,” He degraded meanly, pulling them to the side and rubbing the head of his dick against your slit, watching as you jumped and convulsed, head tilting back against the wall as you weakly protested. “Daddy’s dick is just crying for this pussy, baby. Be a good girl and take it, okay?”

You sobbed, eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his dick into your entrance and then shoved it inside, breaking your hymen almost instantly as you squealed from the harsh intrusion and immediately grabbed his shoulders.

“F—fuck, fuck! Dad!” You cried, hearing his shaky exhale as you clenched down repeatedly. He was too big, you could feel him in your stomach. You tried pushing him away, but then his large hands snaked around your hips, pulling you up and straight back down onto his throbbing cock.

“You’re… a fucking virgin?” He questioned, shaking his head and then laughing mockingly. His sweet girl was cursing now, that was new. He thrusted at a slew rate, one hand moving up your body, touching the bulge in your lower abdomen, ghosting over your breasts and then grabbing your chin.

He squished your wet cheeks together, pursing your lips like a fish as whined.

“Answer me, baby. Tell me you’re a sweet virgin.” Leon said, tightening his grip painfully when you didn’t answer making you flutter around his dick. Slick gushing down his heavy balls, the plap, plap, plap noises reverberating through the basement.

“I—I’m a… sweet virgin, daddy..” You whispered, eyes opening wide to look up at his reprobated face, though he looked a little red himself as he moved his hips rhythmically feeling your chubby pussy pull his dick in like a suction cup.

“Yeah, a sweet virgin turned whore.” Leon mocked, stilling his hips until his tip pressed against your cervix, watching as your expression contorted into a mix of pain and perverted pleasure. If he was a better man, he’d feel guilty. But the blood on his hands served to say that he was maybe a little, or a lot, deranged. And it’s alright because he knew you were too.

“Dad… please,” you moaned, feeling too full. You needed him to move, to touch your abandoned clit, to give you something other than the pain you were feeling. “Please just… move, just fuck me.”

Leon tilted his head, had he really corrupted your little brain? He hummed, resuming his movements and watching as your lips parted in a silent gasp, and then the punched out moans that escaped you. Yeah, he knew it. You were a perfect little thing, toes curling the harder he got, the frilly socks were a little stained and looked miniature in comparison to his boots.

“I am fucking you, honey.” He muttered, pressing a few kissed along your jawline as your head leaned up and your eyes rolled back when his fingers ghosted across your clit, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive bud. “Cute little pussy need a baby inside it, right?”

There you go, with a shaky scream you clenched down hard on his dick. The words were enough to bring a clear liquid squirting out of your pussy, his hips stuttering as he moaned, you were just convulsing, back arching into him as your breasts bounced until they were peeking out of your dress.

“Yeah, you do. Fuck, squirting around me like a goddamn slut.” Leon grunted, voice a little more hoarse at this point. He was nearing his own orgasm, and he wanted to fill you up completely. He wanted to do so much to you. He wanted to crawl up inside you and watch his sperm take, watch the entire beautiful process of conception.

He thrusted a couple more times before pausing inside, his warm and gooey cum filling your womb up completely until you felt like it would leak out of your mouth.

The beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead made the front strands of his hair a little wet as he watched you pant and tremble in his hold, his arms wrapping around the arch of your back and holding you against him. Yeah, he was a dickhead but he cared.

“You’re perfect, baby. Such a good girl.” He murmured, kissing the top of your face as you melted into his embrace. He didn’t bother pulling out. “Gotta keep you plugged up.”

A million times better than your mother, and speaking of which he’d need to dispose of her stupid body. Maybe after another round, and then a bath. And then a night of sleep.

[pacifierbby]

★ . . . . . 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

Summary , Lando is drunk, out of it and alone. Reader decides to help him out until he can find Max. They spend a lot of time together while she tries to help Lando out and eventually helps him find Max and they part ways The next day they meet at a coffee shop and Max remembers her and re-introduces them

| Lando Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Request |

The club was alive with music people dancing on the dance floor some on top of the tables you clearly didn't understand how they wasn't thrown out yet.

Your friends decided it was time to go out and what they say is "to party" since a new club has just opened in your town. Still, you were just more focused on spending your Saturday night tooked under some blankets and watching back-to-back episodes of Murder documentaries but your friends literally pulled you against that plan and told you to "go out more!" and here you are now with too many rowdy people and you knew that you were going to have to babysit these fools and make sure that they all got home safely so you weren't really planning to drink that much.

The night was slowly dragging more people walking in making it more crowded than it was before you were sure that they had capacity in these places and if they didn't then it was a little stupid since people more easily get lost from their friends and that what happened to you your friends left you to go dance and you haven't seen them since.

Walking towards the bar sitting down on the stool waiting for someone to take your order a young boy sitting next to you a beer in front of him looking in every direction seems to be trying to find his friend "Are you looking for someone?" you softly spoke the young boy turning towards you "yeah my friend left me to go to the toilet haven't seen him since" he slurred the words mixing a little but you understood him a little "what does he look like?" looking at the direction of the man's toilets to see if anyone was looking for someone but unfortunately no one was there looking back at the boy who you didn't get the name off just yet seeing that he was struggling with his phone "stupid thing" he softly spoke making you laugh a little "do you want me to help you?" he nodded instantly passing you his phone putting his past code in first making you a little surprised that he remembers it while drunk

Looking through all his photos the same man jumping out at you every time turning the phone around

"is this him?" you asked his attention elsewhere not even bothering to acknowledge you making you sigh "Excuse me" tapping his back a little

"uh sorry what" he began to tremble his eyes leaving the woman instantly his eyes looking at his phone he just nodded not really bothered about his friend anymore but the girl that on the other side of the club

"um well here's your phone hopefully he finds you soon" getting up from the bar stool and slowly grabbing your bag from the bar not really wanting to help the guy anymore which you still didn't get the name from since his attention is elsewhere.

"where are you going?" he began his attention fully on you now

"um, your attention was on her so I thought" pointing your finger to the exit of the conversation that you are in at the moment making you a little uncomfortable since you don't really know what he's talking about. but you can say that he is really cute you can definitely fight for that

"don't be stupid please sit back down she's a slut anyway" slurring his words a little but you kind of knew what he was saying but the slut part making your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

The conversations flowed instantly after that little thing you knew more about him he was an F1 driver and called Lando but you knew the F1 thing was probably to try and to impress you but you didn't want to hurt the poor guy. the drinks were coming more quickly than you hoped Lando became more drunk and one thing you hated was babysitting drunk people but for this cute lad, you would do anything. but one thing you did wish was for his friend to randomly appear.

"you alright mate" a voice came from behind you both the same accent that Lando has turned around to see the same guy that in half of his photo gallery "You must be Max" you began putting your hand out so he can shake it

"I am indeed, just want to say thank you for looking after this drunk lord was slightly hoping he wasn't dancing on top of the tables somewhere when I came back".

making you laugh, however, you really didn't have the guts to even ask where he wandered off to since he was a grown arse adult "well enjoy the rest of the night and looking after this one" you pointed next to you

"Think we going to head home actually thinks he drunk enough of his own body weight for one night" Lando just sulked knowing that the both of you was talking about it.

"thank you for looking after me beautiful" leaning in to kiss you on the cheek making you blush a little watching lando and Max walk out of the bar you slowly following from behind.

The next day came quicker than you hopped and the whopping headache followed making you instantly groan and promising yourself to not go out again which you swear this time you're actually sticking to it. However, the boy from the club instantly fogs your brain making you kind of regret that you didn't even ask for his number but you did remember that he told you he was an f1 driver quickly searching on Google F1 Lando a link and photos slowly popping on your screen making your mouth drop a little he wasn't actually trying to impress you you thought he was actually being genuinely serious.

You knew your day couldn't be frowning about the guy that you met and didn't get the number from so you thought on going to your local coffee shop and getting your favourite drink and food.

The coffee shop door makes a ringing noise when you open it Helen is behind the counter like every other day "You okay my dear?" she asked you loved Helen she was like a mother to you always finding some time out of her busy schedule to talk to you "morning and yeah just a small hangover" you laughed a little making her roll her eyes "wish I was your age again. anyway the usual? " making you nod.

The door rang again behind you to guys walking in with sunglasses on hiding their eyes from whatever they did last night even though you couldn't fully recognise them the face features do look awfully similar.

"Y/N is that you" the man spoke taking his glasses off that's how you knew them you thought its the same people from last night

"uh that's me" you spoke Max touching Lando's shoulder "This is the lady that looked after you last night" Lando taking his glasses away from his face

"thank you hopefully I wasn't that hard to look after" making you laugh a little the same feeling from last night instantly coming back

"honestly no trouble Lando you defiantly kept me entertained"

"well um I uh um" he spoke softly the nerves getting the better off him a little "Can I get your number just in case I need another babysitter" making you laugh a little the nervous from lando instantly forgotten about but making your heart swell passing him your phone both off you exchanging numbers

"well I'll defiantly see you around" making you blush a little you nodded watching them leave the café the same way that they did last night

"I sense some romanceeeeee" Helen spoke behind you grabbing your order from the counter "maybe you can be the bridesmaid" you both laughed.

You and Lando met once again the energy from you both pulling you both in making it a romance story the one you always wanted.

[elliesdoll]

idk why i keep thinking abt angsty loser!ellie… she is my baby

nsfw! just ellie masturbating n crying (me) 𝜗𝜚

pts 2 & 3 already posted!

a wonderful anon said my fic reminded them of this song and they r so right… listen to it rn

daily click! do not buy tlou free palestine 🇵🇸

ellie was so in love with you. she is so in love with you.

you are her light. your smile, your laugh, your everything. she just couldn’t get enough of you. being friends with you was probably the best blessing god could ever gift her, yet also the worst punishment.

she knew she could never have you.

not in the way she wanted, anyway.

you talk ellie’s ear off almost everyday, and ellie never gets tired of it. your sweet voice that felt like pure honey and warmth being poured into her ears. so sickly sweet. she swore you were a siren of some sort.

you were so perfect and you didn’t even know it. you would tell ellie about your escapades and little ‘situationships’ as you’d like to call it, and it made her sick. every last person you talked about seemed like shit. she couldn’t believe that you thought that’s all you were worthy of.

she would worship you if you gave her the chance.

she told you the same thing each time: “fuck them. you know you’re too pretty for them anyway.”

and you were always grateful for her. who else would remind you of your worth? you needed her, she was your rock. your fidgety, awkwardly nerdy rock.

she was always the shy type. or she was around you, at least. she was never too bashful, but sometimes she’d slip and show you just how nervous you make her. her freckled skin would turn all pink, her eyes avoiding your gaze. she’d have an awkward, thin-lipped smile, and you could feel the clamminess of her hands if she was touching you. you’d find it cute, how she’d just melt if you two were touching or you’d give her a compliment on literally anything.

but what you didn’t know, is how she hated herself for it.

after anytime you two hung out, she’d go home, stomping to her room and looking down at her feet. “so fucking stupid.” she’d mutter to herself, thinking of all the times she stuttered around you or got all warm in the face. but without fail, each little mishap would lead to her in her bed, a string of curses leaving her mouth while pathetically fingering herself to the thought of you.

one particular night, she had shown up to your house unannounced. knocking at your door, leaning back on her heels as she waited for you to open up.

she doesn’t normally do this. she never does this. but she thought maybe you two had gotten close enough. just enough for her to show up at your home anytime she felt like seeing you.

so when you opened the door, and she saw your hair a bit disheveled, your cheeks flushed and what appeared to be a hickey below your jaw, that thought quickly went away.

“fuck, els. i’m sorry but… really bad timing.”

you said with a light chuckle, giving her an apologetic smile. she just stared at you, eyes wide and her cheeks red.

“fuck. i’m sorry, shit. i don’t know why i showed up here— i wasn’t thinking. sorry.”

she mutters, stuttering over her words. she hated how her tummy got all fuzzy and how her boxers suddenly felt all warm and soaked. all while having the biggest lump in her throat.

before you could say anything back, she was already speed walking away from your front door, down to her car. she got in and drove away, not even bothering to see if you were still there, watching her.

she felt so fucking stupid. her vision was blurry as she drove home, speeding until she finally parked in her driveway. who the fuck was in your house? which one was it fucking you? did they even love you like she did? she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

she swung the door open, then slammed it behind her as she ran to her room. she closed the door and locked in, and let the tears flow. she kicked her beat up converse off, and aggressively rubbed her cheeks to get rid of the wet tears that rolled down them.

“fucking idiot.”

“why the fuck would i?— god.”

“what did i think? she doesn’t love me.”

she mumbles to herself, all through hiccups and stuttered breaths. her pretty cheeks are wet with hot tears, her eyes red and watery. even her poor nose is all stuffed up, making her sound nasally as she dumbly insults herself.

one by one, she removes her clothes. she fiddles with the button of her jeans and undoes it, hooking her thumbs under the band of her boxers at the same time, and kicks it all off. she then moves to her hoodie, messily taking it off and cursing when it gets stuck on her little bun. she even takes her sports bra off, which she never does.

fully naked and vulnerable, she turns all the lights off and crawls into bed.

she sobs into her pillow, feeling like some pathetic idiot. she doesn’t know why she ever thought you’d feel for her the way she feels for you. she felt so fucking perverted too— getting wet over the idea of you getting fucked. getting wet over your smile, your touch.

she sniffles, her slender hand slithering down to her pussy. she sighs as her middle finger lightly swipes by her clit, feeling just how wet she is. she brings her ring finger into the mix and circles her clit, gathering all the wetness from her clenching hole.

she moans, quietly. ellie isn’t typically a moaner, but she is right now. she is for you. she rubs her clit rapidly, the sounds of her squelching pussy filling her dark room. she closes her eyes, not wanting to cum too quick. she stars to think about you, and her fingers go to plug her hole.

she imagines you below her, giving her that sweet smile as she made love to you. she wanted to love you so bad, it hurt.

“oh god— shit,” she whined to herself, legs spread and feet planted on her bed, knees bent as she mercilessly fucked herself to the thought of you. she wanted to make you cum by her fingers, mouth, cunt— whatever the fuck you wanted.

her imagination switched to your mouth on her pussy, lapping at her clit and eating her out like you’d die if you didn’t. she let out a shaky whine, imagining that her fingers were your tongue, moving in and out of her as your nose nudged her clit.

ellie’s breath sped up, her eyebrows knitted upwards as she felt that hot, sticky feeling in her belly just come flooding out. her cunt pushed out and clenched around her fingers, as she cums with a strangled cry. her body covered in a thin layer of sweat, and her thighs trembling as her slick came gushing out of her, staining her sheets below her.

she slowly pulled her fingers out, catching her breath. she could feel her heart in her ears. but the ache never left. she’s still crying, just not as theatrically. she doesn’t even bother cleaning herself up or her bed, just turning to the side and hugging her pillow. she shoves her face into the plush pillow, her wet face dampening the fabric. and there, cum sticking her thighs and pussy together, naked, she fell asleep.

and she’ll never move on, either. you haunt her, even in her dreams. doomed to love you in every reality.

aaakkk i dunno how to end these 😖 this is my first fic(?) drabble thingy ever so pls be gentle haha lol ☺️☺️☺️👍

this is so rushed bai 😑

[serotonins-stuff]

3 am preggy cravings

Jjk men ° • . • ° •

------------ ------♥︎--------- ----------

♡︎Sypnosis: You wake up in the early hours of the morning craving your favorite snack. Luckily your husband is always there to help you.

♡︎Featuring: Gojo, Toji, nanami, Geto and Choso

♡︎Warnings: none just, fluff and kisses

------ -----------♥︎------------ -------

-----• ° • .-----

Gojo

It was rare for the both of you to be up like this, at three am with Satoru staring at his paperwork in the bedroom.

You told him that you were just going to go to the bathroom, but then a sudden craving for ice cream hit.you like a truck.That's how you found yourself sitting on the kitchen floor, teary eyed as you stared at the freezer vacant of any sweet treat.

This was probably the most heartbreaking thing you've experienced this week. Tears turned into sniffles which then led to soft whimpers, and not long after your despair you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen.

He was worried out of his mind that something might've happened to you, but he was confused when he could not sense any kind of threatening aura.

"Baby?"

His laid eyes of your slumped figure and jumped into action, craddling your trembling figure in his warm arms.

"Hey" he cooed, wiping your tears away and lifting your chin up to look at him. You were in perfectly good shape, so if he had to take a guess, he'd say it has to be some sort of pregnancy thing. "What's wrong sweets?“

"Toru" you wailed, wrapping your arms around his neck. He could feel goosebumps rise on his skin from the contact of your chilled flesh. The freezer was open, displaying the broad selection of different meats.

"You wanna cook?" He asked and you shook your head. He pondered for a bit, a hand rubbing your back soothingly while you cuddled up into him.

"Were you feelin cold?"

You shook your head, causing him to run a nervous hand through his white locks. He looked at you with a soft smile on his face.

"Sweetheart I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong"

You felt stupid for what you were about to say. Adamantly so, you didn't think you'd be able to go to sleep without having the cool taste of your favorite ice cream clouding your senses. The tears wounlnt stop coming out and you cursed yourself internally for behaving like this.

"I'm cra-craving ice-cream" you hicupped, letting all the tears flow onto Satorus shirt.

He didn't seem to mind, he was actually relieved because he thought something mighve actually been wrong.

"Okay, c'mon" he cooed, rubbing nice.and tender circles on your big belly. "I can't have my sweet girl cryin on the floor"

"I didn't want t-to bother y-"

"Shhhhh" he whispered, before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. "Don't worry about stuff like that, I'll go get your ice cream ok?"

You nodded, before lifting your hand to shut the freezer. Still sitting pretty in your husbands arms. He stayed with you until you hand calmed down, making sure to give you all the cuddles, kisses and love you needed before lifting you up effortlessly and plopping you onto the bed.

Like a man on a mission he grabbed his keys on the counter and went to the store. It didn't even take him more than ten minutes before he was back home, a bag of ice cream tubs in hand.

He put some in the fridge and took one for you, strolling up to the bedroom with two spoons in hand.

There you were sound asleep on your side, mouth slightly agape as soft snores poured from your lips. Satoru couldn't help but smile softly to himself, walking over to his side and giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

His head then trailed down to your big bump and he stared at it lovingly. "Whatcha doin to your momma huh?" He asked before chuckling to himself. As the mother of his child he could never ask for more than this. You were perfect, even when you have him running to the store to buy ice cream at three am.

"Damn this tastes good" he hummed, devouring the contents of the ice cream tub next to your sleeping figure.

Nanami

Even if you had wanted to sneak into the pantry, Nanamis death grip on you didn't give you the chance. Whenever you moved he furrowed his brows before snuggling his face where it had grown comfortable in the crook of your neck.

You couldn't help but crave your favorite flavor of ice cream, which had somehow ran out a week ago.

You wouldn't be able to go to the store and buy it because Kento would never let you lay a hand on store bought food. He makes everything from scratch, just for you with the freshest ingredients in the house. The store bought one didn't even come close to being as good as his, which takes a few hours to make. It would probably be bothersome to tell him you wanted some at this time of the hour.

You shifted uncomfortably, rubbing your husbands callused knuckles which pulled your chest close to his. This was painful, having to endure such a craving that only the sleeping man next to you could provide.

You sighed once more before shuffling in his arms, and finally you heard him shuffle in response.

"Hm?" He hummed "What's wrong love?"

His voice was raspy and you couldn't help but feel guilty at the fact that you had just some him from his peaceful slumber.

"Uh well" you paused, tapping on his hands nervously. "Nothing, it's not important"

His hands traveled down to your stomach and settled there comfortably "It's important if it has you unable to sleep at this hour"

"Are you and the baby alright?" He said sleepily into the crook of your neck.

"Yeah we're fine I just- well- randomly started craving ice cream?"

He let out a sigh of relieve, before reaching over to the nightstand on his side and flicking the lamp on.

You were confused right now, more so distraught that your personal heater had just decided to get up and stumble out of the door without a word.

In the distance you heard the fridge open and the clinking of cutlery before his footsteps returned. His hair was messy, and he was stumbling over his feet, cursing internally at the random objects on the ground.

Despite being so disorientated after waking up, he still got up with no questions, fully determined on getting you what you wanted.

You never thought you'd start tearing up at the sight of your adorable husband, shirtless with a tub of ice cream in his hand, helping you sit up by putting pillows beind your back.

"You're so sweet Ken" you cooed, opening the tub to gawk at its delicious contents "When did you even make this?"

"I made sure to stock up on all your favorite craving snacks, just in case"

He didn't want to fall asleep until you were satisfied with your fill, and when you were he gladly pulled you back into his arms

His hand was on your cheek and he wiped of any residue left of the ice cream, tilting your face to look at him in the process.

"Don't be so hesitant to ask me next time"

"Even if its 2am in the morning?"

"Whether it is am or pm does not concern me, I will wake up at any time if it means making the mother of my child happy ok?"

Toji

His legs were tangled with yours, his big strong hands wrapped around your body almost like a shield.

It would be quite impossible to get up without waking him up, which was the last thing you wanted. His instincts were on point, meaning he'd catch you instantly if you so much as inhaled too hard.

You sighed, and immediately regretted it when you felt him shift.

"Somethin wrong?" He rasped, the sound of his voice reverberating against your ear.

"I just need to get up" you groaned, trying to pry his arm off of you. It was no use being sneaky now that he was awake.

You could feel him look at you with a raised brow, not moving an inch from your prying hands. You thought he'd be annoyed with you till his chest shook with laughter. "Sit your pregnant ass down"

You deadpanned which only seemed to made him more amused. Swiftly he hooked his arms under you and carfied you princess style, giving you no time at all to retaliate.

You could already hear the cheekiness in his voice when he looked down at your cute form. "Where to?"

Of course he wasn't going to let you go there by yourself, not after the last time you tripped.

"The kitchen please"

He carried you with such ease even though you had another human being literally growing in your tummy. The ride wasn't bumpy at all, and you could barely feel a thing as he maneuvered you through the house. In the dark may you add.

You felt the coolness of the kitchen against your skin and shivered slightly.

"You can put me down now Toji" you mumbled into his chest. Hesitantly he put you on your feet and watched intently as you waddled over the the freezer and pulled out a tub of ice cream.

His heart warmed at the sight of you disheveled hair and growing belly. It was moments like these were he admired you the most, where you just happily lived your life next to him.

You were looking around for a spoon, but stopped when you saw two of them shining in your husbands hands.

He was looking at you with that face again, the one of admiration were he studied you closely. Shyly, you looked away from him and he laughed before switching the lights off and pulling you into his arms again.

Soon you were seated cross legged in front of him while he fed you ice cream. Occasionally he'd kiss the spots where the dessert would get smudged on your face. He was giving you the prinsess treatment you deserved and he could've never asked for anything more.

"You're so pretty y'know that?" he questioned genuinely, before eating a spoonful of ice cream "Carrying our kid n'all"

This time he was the one with a smidge of ice cream on the corner of his mouth. Mischievioudly you pulled his face close to yours and swiftly licked it off, leaving him shook in his place.

"It's all thank to you for taking such good care of me" you smiled.

"Nuh uh" he wagged his finger, "It's what I'm supposed to do- yer the one who's doing all the growing"

Your heart melted from his statement and you pulled his fave down to kiss the ice cream that was smudged onto his cheek.

"You're too sweet Toji" you said with a smile, and you swear you could see the slight pink tinge of his cheeks.

Choso

His insomniac ass was getting not a single wink of sleep, especially after his most recent mission.

You thought you had successfully snuck off to the pantry to get yourself some snacks. Until you heard crunching behind you nd you flinched.

"You scared me" you whispered, clutching your hand to your chest. His eyes stared at your figure which was trying to reach a box at the top of he shelf. You huffed in annoyance when your fingers touched the box, moving it further away from where you wanted it.

You were about to get a stepping stool before the warm figure of your husband clouded behind you. The smell of the sweets he was eating lingering from his face. He reached up with ease, and brought the box of snacks down for you.

You plopped down onto the couch before switching the tv. You opened your arms to offer your husband cuddles, considering he was following toy around like a lost puppy.

You laid on your back ond he lay on your stomach, occasionally giving your grown belly a kiss and rubs of affection. You stayed like this for a while, just letting the time pass with Choso in your arms, his head resting on your stomach.

He felt a kick and his eyes widened. "Looks like someones a bit feisty huh?"

He then stares up at your sleeping figure, mouth agape and packet of chips in hand as you snored away.

"Just like your mama"

Geto

"Sweetheart" he sighed next to you, rubbing your back as you stood in the pantry. Frustrated to find that the food you were craving was no here to be found.

Geto was kind enough to help you in your search. He didn't get mad when you just stood there with tears staining your eyes and his tshirt.

You huffed into his chest, melting into his strong arms wrapped around your trembling figure. They were warm and welcoming, on top of that he also smelled good and you couldn't help but feel safe listening to the thump of his heart.

"C'mon" he cooed, before pulling away to wipe the tears on your face. "I'll go get it for you yeah?"

"But it's three in the morning"

Nothing was cuter than your tear stained face, pouting at him right now. The urge to squish your cheeks took over and his fingers were on either side of your face. He brought your face closer to his and planted a nice plump kiss on your puckered lips.

"If you're hungry, then that doesn't matter" he smiled, his hand traveling down to your very noticable bump. "As long as you're happy then it's fine, plus the little one's doing quite the number on you anyway- so you need all the food you can get"

You pulled him into a sudden embrace and he chuckled. "Thanks Sugu"

"Anytime baby"

His plan was to quickly get in the car to get your food, then come back. Though that changed slightly when he heard your light footsteps follow him into the garage.

It was far too late for you to be up and about right now, but he didn't have the guts to tell you to , because that would only add to your sadness.

He opened the door for you, held your hand to help you in and even reached over to click your seatbelt into place.

He closed your door and hoped in on his side, connecting the aux cable to his phone to play music that usually calms you down.

He observed your cute figure as you softly let your hand caress your belly. Staring at your bump with nothing but adoration.

"The food I'm craving is bit far from here" you shuffled "Is that ok?"

He chuckled softly and put the car in gear "I'll take you wherever you wanna go"

----- • ° • .•°•. -----

End

[declareqenius]

some would sing and some would scream

summary: your girlfriends are two of the best mob bosses in the city. you and natasha were out for a nightly walk, both feeling restless as you awaited wanda’s return from a business trip. it was going well, until someone got the jump on both of you. 

pairings: WandaNat x Reader

warnings: blood, violence, knives, being tied up, stabbing, passing out

a/n: hey guys! here’s another one. i have no idea how mobs work, which is probably a good thing, but i hope it makes enough sense. second part, anyone? let me know what you think! wanda is barely here but is mentioned throughout. 

Part 1 | Part 2 

It’s been days since you and Natasha have seen Wanda. Days, maybe a week, since you were both taken by the henchmen of an enemy family; the Celestials. They have nerve, you’ll give them that, but you know as soon as Wanda and the rest of your family finds your location, they won’t know what hit them. 

The metal chair is cold against your legs and the restraints around your wrists are digging uncomfortably into your skin. You know the more you struggle, the worse it will be, but you need to at least try. There are cuts on either cheek and one gash on your thigh- which is exposed because you decided to wear shorts that fated day. You started regretting your decision yesterday because they kept their torture room freezing, and although you reside in New York, the cold has never been- and never will be- your friend. 

Natasha sits next you in a chair identical to yours. Her restraints are different, though, and it’s obvious the Celestials know how big of a threat she is. She’s continuously struggled to get out of them and your heart pangs in your chest because part of you knows it’s because she hates seeing you hurt. 

Your girlfriend is safe from cuts and gashes and it’s all due to them wanting to get under her skin. They know of the relationship you share with the two powerful mob leaders, and they’re trying to use it to their advantage. 

Natasha doesn’t break easily. Neither does Wanda. Everyone knows this, including you, but Nat barely lasted ten minutes when Najma- the leader of the Celestials- started dragging the knife across your thigh. She begged her to take her instead, but Najma was quick to assure that any torture you faced would be dragged out. 

“Nat. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep struggling.” Your firm voice cuts through the thick silence and leaves no room for argument. You’d stopped struggling five minutes ago when you realized it wouldn’t help, but Natasha kept it up and the redness around her wrists started to worry you. 

“I need to get out before they come in again. Need to get you untied.” Her voice is gravelly and preoccupied, and her plight is obvious. The only thoughts swarming her head are about getting you out of there unharmed. 

“And then what? You fight them off with nothing and we die trying to escape? We leave Wanda alone? She’ll never forgive us for that. We have to think about this, Natasha.” 

You’re honestly surprised how calm you were, considering the situation. But you know Wanda is on a murderous rampage and Natasha is going through anger induced anxiety at the mere thought of either of you not making it out of this, so you’re left being the reasonable one. 

“I am thinking about this, Y/N!” 

Her chair clangs to a halt as she stops struggling with a frustrated huff. You know that if the two of you weren’t in the hands of your family’s greatest rival, then your girlfriend would let her tears flow free. The only sign that she had any intent of crying before she remembered where you were was her red nose. 

“I’m thinking about it,” she says defeatedly, yet firmly. “Najma is going to come back any minute and she is going to harm you in unimaginable ways and I can’t stop her because I’m tied to this stupid fucking chair.” 

“Natty,” you say softly, “look at me, please?” 

God, you wish you could reach out and touch her. It takes a moment for her to find some semblance of composure so she can look you in the eyes instead of staring guiltily at the gash in your thigh. 

“Listen to me, okay? I need you to hear me,” you start, waiting until Natasha subtly nods her head to continue, “You aren’t going to tell them anything. No matter what they do to me-” 

“But-” 

“No. Listen. Whatever they do to me, I need you to grin and bear it until Wanda gets here or you have a secure plan to get us out. It’s going to be painful for both of us, but I’m a big girl, I can handle it, okay?” 

“Detka, I don’t know if I can-” 

“Natalia. I knew what I was getting into the moment you and Wanda told me what you did for a living. I knew it would happen eventually. There’s only so much protecting my knights in shining fedoras,” you give her a gentle grin at your joke, “can do. I need you to promise me. No matter how much pain I’m in. We need to wait it out. That’s all we can do right now, my love.” 

Natasha looks like she desperately wants to argue again, but you both know she’s only got so much fight left and she needs to save it for when Najma comes back. You try not to imagine what the leader of the Celestials has in store for you; which ways your body will be bloodied and scarred, but it’s hard when Natasha’s brain is going a mile a minute and the blood from the gash on your leg won’t stop dripping down your thigh. 

“Do you remember our very first date?” You ask, a small smile on your face as you look up at your girlfriend. 

“Malysh-” 

“Nat, please. I can’t sit in silence.” 

She sighs and looks away for a moment. To compose herself. You fear that sentence nearly sent her over the edge, but a moment later she nods. 

“Like it was yesterday. Wands and I had thirty minutes to clean ourselves up after having gotten back from taking care of something. We were so worried we were going to be late, and so we texted you that work held us up for longer than we anticipated. You were so patient with us. You still are so patient with us.” 

“Have to be with you two. Who knows what kind of trouble you got into when it was just the both of you parading around. Someone has to keep you in check, make sure you have something, someone to come home to. Both of you.” 

“And we cherish every moment we get to spend with you, detka.” 

Natasha says it so sincerely and it pushes you over the edge. Your eyes start watering and while it’s not a full-on sob, your tears do fall because you know where Natasha’s mind has gone. Where it has been this entire time. 

Then, it feels as if all the air in the room is sucked out. All the love you felt from Natasha moments ago is gone when you see her face switch to one you had only seen a handful of times. Your girlfriends try to keep you out of the business as much as they can, but you were still privy to some things. Natasha’s expression looked distant and blank, and you hear clapping from the far right corner of the room. 

Your heart sinks to your stomach, but you keep your features neutral. 

Najma. 

“Aw, how sweet. Quite a show you both put on. If this were reality television, my family would be rooting for you. Little lovebirds. It’s a shame your other girlfriend isn’t here. I’m sure it would spice things up.” 

“If she were here, you would be dead already,” you snark. 

“Dorogoy-” Natasha starts in warning, but Najma is quick to cut her off. 

“It’s okay, Ms. Romanova. She won’t be able to... joke around much once I’m done with her. I must say, I have been quite lenient and I am a sucker for a love story, but I fear it is time to get some answers. So, every time you refuse to answer one of my questions, your little girlfriend here will endure some kind of pain. Haven’t decided yet. Won’t decide until that moment. Whatever feels right, I suppose. Nod to let me know you understand.” 

Natasha nods. 

Your eyes bore holes into the side of her head and you hope she hears your pleas. Your reminders. 

“Good. We’ll start off easy, then.” Najma takes her knife out of her boot and slowly walks over to you. She places the tip on your upper arm. The way she’s looking at you, as if you were a turkey to be carved instead of eaten and enjoyed, chills you to the bone. 

“What is your name?” Najma directs the question towards Natasha. 

“Natasha Romanova-Maximoff.” 

“Hm. That’ll do. What is your wife’s name?” 

“Wanda Romanova-Maximoff.” 

These were all answers that Najma knew already, and you’re unsure of why she’s wasting time. Not that you’re complaining. The more time she takes to interrogate Natasha, the more time Wanda has to find you both. The only name Najma shouldn’t know is yours. Natasha hasn’t once used it since you’ve been kidnapped, and you figure it’s for a reason. Your only family is the one you were welcomed into when you officially became Wanda and Natasha’s girlfriend, but your name not being out there kept you safer. 

“And what is your girlfriend’s name?” 

There it is. 

You glance at Natasha, fully aware of the knife on your arm but deeming it safe enough to move the slightest amount. Natasha’s eyes catch yours and you don’t have to plead with her this time. Her decision was made the moment her green eyes met your own. 

Keeping your name a secret gives both of you a better chance when Wanda breaks the both of you out of this place. 

So, when Natasha moves her eyes from yours to look at Najma, you prepare yourself for the pain. 

The redhead doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. Najma knows it isn’t a question she’s going to answer simply by the blank determination written across her face. 

“Very well then,” the Celestial leader says, bored as she drags the knife slowly across your upper arm. 

You stare at Natasha the entire time. 

Natasha stares at your arm, and you know it is her way of punishing herself. 

As if being locked in a freezing room with no way out wasn’t punishment enough. Your girlfriend forces herself to watch as one of her foes marks your body with their knife. Their torture. 

It makes her angry and she clenches both her jaw and her fists to keep herself from pulling on the restraints, having learned her lesson twenty minutes earlier. 

Wanda will never let her live this down. 

You’re glad it’s not Wanda with you. She would have been able to kill everyone by now, but if they had put special cuffs on her and made her watch as they tortured you, you know she would have given everything up to ensure you lived. 

You appreciate how much your girls love you, but the family wouldn’t have been able to take that kind of hit. So, you’re glad it’s Natasha who is with you, and maybe you’ll get the chance to reiterate that to Wanda someday soon. It will surely keep them from biting each other’s heads off while you’re recovering. 

“Next question.” 

You can hear the Cheshire Cat-like grin Najma wore as she placed the knife in a different spot on your body. This time, your thigh, about two inches higher than the first gash she gave you. 

“Where is the Mind stone?” 

Again, Natasha doesn’t answer and you audibly keel over in pain when the knife creates an identical gash to the one that came before it. 

Again, Natasha watched the knife slide across your thigh. 

“Hard eggs to crack, but I have only just begun.” 

Now, Najma is in front of you and you barely have enough time to process the cool metal of the knife being dragged down your face. Your breathing is heavy, but you muster the most spiteful expression you can. 

“I would really hate to see this beautiful face marred, Natasha. It would be such a shame. She could pose for those magazines. I hear it is great work, but enough small talk. Maybe I won’t have to mar your beautiful face, my little paaltoo.”

You decide then that you only like Urdu when Kamala speaks it. 

“All Natasha has to do is give me the location of the Mind stone and your pretty little face will go unmarked. Don’t worry, it will only hurt a little bit. It’s more of a... reminder for your lovers.” 

Even if your girlfriend’s face remains neutral, you can tell she’s seething on the inside. You glance at her for a moment and you know that you need to stall more. Enough for Wanda to find both of you. Nat can’t do anything but not answer Najma’s questions, and eventually Najma will tire of the game she’s playing. Who knows what that would look like? You doubt she would kill you quickly and undermine the work she’s already done on you, but if Najma doesn’t have something to quell her violent hunger, you don’t know what will happen to you or Natasha. 

So, you have to keep Najma entertained. Interested. Piece of cake. 

When you know that her focus is on Natasha’s expression and not your “pretty little face”, you send a guilty look to your girlfriend. Better to ask for forgiveness later. Then, you muster up all your courage and remember all the times you’ve seen Wanda and Natasha interrogate people, and you speak.

“What makes you think Natasha will talk? You’ve gotten this far and she hasn’t said a word. Maybe she doesn’t care about me as much as you think she does.”

“Mm, you’re not going to get me that easy my little paaltoo, I hear how she speaks to you. How she looks at you. And how she seethes every time my blade runs across your delicate skin. The love this woman holds for you is insurmountable. Don’t think me a fool.” 

“You picked the wrong one.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Blood runs down the side of your arm and thigh and you’ve long forgotten how to feel the searing pain. 

“The wrong girlfriend. You should’ve picked Wanda. Natasha is tough to crack but she’s been through a lot. Wanda, though? Wanda has a heart of gold and the sight of me in danger would have had her spilling all of her secrets. Or it would have sent her on a murderous rampage and we’d be out of here already, but you never know. All I’m saying is that Wanda would have given you so much more than Natasha ever will.” 

Your nonchalance must have been jarring to both the women in the room, and you’re certain that Yelena, your best friend, would have been proud of you. 

“I’m holding a knife to your face and you have the audacity to judge my methods?” 

Najma pierces your skin with the point of the blade and it almost makes you laugh. 

“What are you going to do? Kill me? You would lose leverage over Wanda and Natasha. You wouldn’t give that up so easily.” 

“And what makes you think I couldn’t find something else they hold dear to them?” 

“You would be searching for the rest of your life.” 

It’s a big statement. Words that probably hold a lot more weight than anything you have ever said before, but you’re aware of what you mean to your girlfriends. How all of you balance each other out in ways that no one expects upon first meeting the three of you. In fact, you’re so certain of your feelings for them and vice versa, that if you make it out of this alive, then you’re going to propose to them. 

Wanda would absolutely kill Natasha if you didn’t make it out of this alive. Guilt would eat both of them up, but better one of you makes it out than neither of you. 

Another slash of the knife on your cheek and you can feel the sting of the blade as Najma follows all the way through with a flick of her wrist. 

“Natasha, tell you girlfriend to shut up.” 

“I’ve never listened to Natasha.” You’re a bit of a brat sometimes, it’s true. “Besides, I’m going to bleed out soon anyway. Then my lovely girlfriend won’t have anyone to talk to. That would be such a shame because I’m a gem.” 

You decide then that you’ve stalled long enough, and really all you did was give your already gushing wounds time to bleed even more. The light headedness is starting to catch up to you and you sincerely hope that you’ve done enough. 

Najma doesn’t pay any mind to your talking, probably realizing what exactly it is that you were doing, and instead she focuses on Natasha again. 

“I will ask one more time.” 

This time Najma positions the knife in front of your stomach and you don’t know if she’s going to stab you or cut you, but you’re not sure she knows either. Frantic green eyes lock onto yours as you get a good look at Natasha. Your eyes are calm as you try memorize everything from the way her braid sits on the side of her shoulder to the perfect shape of her lips. Fear pulses through you and you know that somehow it is not entirely your own, but you shake your head all the same. 

You will not be the reason your family falls. You will not be the reason that Wanda and Natasha have no home to go back to. 

“Where. Is. The Mind stone?” 

Nat’s eyes are pleading but yours remain blank and you know she has to bring forth years and years of training to look away from you and instead at Najma. So the woman holding the knife can see the defiance in her eyes along with her lips pursed in a straight line. Natasha isn’t going to say a word. 

The knife plunges into your left side and you don’t scream, you aren’t going to give your captor that satisfaction, but the sound you do make is enough to have Natasha looking away and a single tear rolling down her cheek. To your confusion, though, Najma doesn’t withdraw the weapon. She leaves the blade inside of you and brushes off her hands before grabbing you by the chin so you can look directly in her eyes.

“Don’t breathe too hard, my little paaltoo, otherwise a vital organ will be caught and I would so love to torture you more later.” 

With that, she lets go of you and walks out. You think that having to look into that woman’s eyes was worse than any of the torture she’s inflicted on you. 

“Natty,” you breathe, voice worn and your eyes wanting to shut already. You’ve never been stabbed before and the pain plus your other wounds is too much. 

“Detka, I’m so sorry,” Natasha’s voice breaks and your heart aches for her. 

“Shhh. Don’t apologize, my love.” Breathing is starting to get really hard. “Natty I need to tell you something.” 

“Anything, malyshka.” 

You know Nat is desperate to keep you talking. Keep you awake. Alive. You don’t want to give up just yet. Wands will be here soon, you can feel it. 

“I think,” your head lolls to the side for a moment, “I think I only,” you breathe in and out, “like Urdu when Kamala,” you swallow because your mouth feels really dry all of a sudden, “speaks it.” 

“Me too, detka. Me too.” 

You can feel yourself fading, and you don’t think the knife has hit anything vital yet, but maybe a nap would help lessen the pain. Just a quick one. 

Your head lolls forward and it jostles the blade a little. You can hear Natasha’s panic, how her voice wavers and breaks as she addresses you. 

“Detka, baby, you’re doing so good for me, love. You’ve done so good. I need you to hold on just a little bit longer, okay? Just a little longer. For Wanda. Please, baby. Need you to stay awake.” 

You blink your eyes open and muster enough strength to look up at her. 

“I’m so tired, Natty.” 

“I know, baby. I know, but I need you for just a little longer, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can, Natty.” 

Breathing hurts and blood is sticky. Your head once again droops forward.

“Please. Please, Y/N!” 

Natasha’s cries are suddenly drowned out by the door opening. You assume it’s Najma, because even in your drowsy state, you didn’t miss the fact that Natasha screamed your name. 

But then there’s an explosion and you’re able to open your eyes just enough to see swirls of scarlet red surrounding the room. You can’t hang on any longer, but you hope that Wanda and Natasha will forgive you as you finally let your eyes close all the way and your body slump forward in the metal chair you were tied to. 

The last thing you felt was Natasha’s hands on you, trying to wake you up, and the last thing you heard was Wanda’s agonizing screams.

[mysicklove]

i can imagine izuku still being a virgin and getting so pussydrunk because it's his first time

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘

Pairings: Virgin! Sub! Top! Pro-Hero! Izuku x Experienced! Dom! Bottom! AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Alcohol use, heavy overstimulation, vaginal penetration, biting, hickeys, creampie, crying, begging, nicknames,, multiple rounds

A/N: Guys Im going to be honest. This is lowkey mostly plot heavy and not too much smut. Im sorry anon I should have made it short and smutty, but I just had this idea and one thing lead to another... I will make short smut stuff!!!!!

Izuku was desperate to have sex. He may be doing fantastic career-wise, but his life in the sheets was dry. So unbelievably dry. He was so pent up, so frustrated, he needed it so badly. Every night he has to get himself off, and by god, he wanted more.

He met you a couple of weeks ago, and you have clouded his mind ever since. He doesn't even know your name. All he knows is you were wearing a red dress, and you kissed him so hard he couldn't breathe. Pressed your knee on his clothed cock, and just like nothing happened, disappeared.

He was drunk. The both of you were. He remembers the smell of alcohol on your breath, how flushed you look. He was probably no better, the fact that this happened at all means he had to be wasted. He barely has the confidence to talk to girls.

It happened at some sort of party that only celebrities or the rich attend, but with all the Google searches in the world, he couldn't find you. His search history was embarrassing.

But even so, he fantasized about you. The purr of your voice, the soft hands that ran over his muscular body, the way you said, “Such a pretty boy in front of me, you must have all the ladies in the palm of your hand, hmm?” while pressing your lips, coating with red lipstick, onto his neck.

He couldn't get you out of his head. He attended every single party, but alas he could never find you. He would end up at home, alone, touching himself.

Until he found you again, two months later. At another party.

He spills the champagne in his hands, when he sees you, eyes wide, before stumbling up and over to you. You are at a table by yourself, sipping on some sort of cocktail. You were in a dark blue tight dress today, and instead of that red lipstick that stained his neck, you were wearing clear lip gloss.

He awkwardly, and hesitantly taps your shoulder, and flushes when you turn around. The thoughts of that night come flooding back to him, and he has to look away so he doesn't get a hard-on.

“Oh! Deku, I didn't know you were here.” You say with a bright smile and he blinks at you. He just cannot stop thinking about the fact that this is the face he gets off to daily. The way you look now is so different than last time. You look so innocent, grinning so widely, it's nothing like the flushed, domineering persona you had that night.

Either way, it's still you and he gulps. “Hey! Yeah…I was invited.”

You smile into your glass cup. “I would hope so.”

He blushes. Such a stupid thing to say. Of course, he was invited and you were too, what was he even talking about? “So..What's your name?”

You hold out a hand and grin. “Y/N.”

He takes it and gently shakes it, trying to hold back his nervous shaking. “It's nice to me you, Im–”

“Deku?” You prompt with a tilt of your head.

He falters, “Uh yeah! But I was going to say, Izuku” He trails off and you laugh.

“Sorry. Got ahead of myself! It's nice to meet you Izuku.” And suddenly your facial features flip. That smirk is back. He loves it. “Your tie is all messed up, mind if I fix it?” He blushes but nods. You grin and grab onto the green tie, and he goes needle straight. “Yknow. You look awfully familiar, Izuku.” You say in a lone tone, that makes the blood flow straight to his cock.

He splutters, “You, you think so?” You drop the tie and hum. Your mouth opens, beginning another probably teasing remark when a call of your name cuts you off. A female voice, he takes specific note of.

You turn to him and smile. “Well, that's my cue. I'll see you around, pretty boy.”

He stands there staring at the space you just preoccupied with a blank face. And then it hits him. Pretty boy. That’s what you called him that night. You remember. You had to. He turns around quickly and says, “Wait!” but you are already gone. Hidden by the crowd of dancing and drinking rich idiots.

He eyes the cocktail you left, sighs, and finishes it off. He has gotta get some liquid courage in him if he wanted to be bold enough to deal with you.

He searched the party all night, but alas he couldn't find you. He almost began to give up hope, when suddenly he saw you. Alone, once again, and on the balcony. He sets his drink down and uses the silver reflection of his plate as a mirror to quickly brush through his hair. He sighs and then as calmly as he could so nobody would say anything, walks to the balcony.

When you hear the footsteps, you turn around, and when you see who exactly it is, you grin. He laughs nervously. “Woah, funny seeing you here, Y/N.”

You raise your eyebrow and turn to lean your back on the balcony ledge. “Oh don't give me that, I saw you looking for me all night like a lost puppy.” You throw your head back in a laugh and his ever-returning blush is back.

“Y-You knew? But, why didn't you…” He trails off when you step closer to him. Now you were less than a foot away, grinning up at him, he could almost feel your breasts press against him. He gulps and looks away, hoping to fight his arousal. He could smell the traces of alcohol.

You grab his face to make him look at you, and you lean forward like you are going to kiss him, and then pause, centimeters away. “Izuku, what do you want from me?”

“Everything.” He whispers eyes half-lidded as he stares at your lips.

You smile. “Good answer.” And then press his lips to his. He groans, low and softly, but leans into the kiss. He grabs your waist and presses you against him, and you pull away when you feel his hard cock. “Where should we go?” You prompt, basically inviting him to ask you to his place.

But, much to your dismay, he doesn't get it. “Bathroom,” He says, thinking back to that one night, and then leans forward for another kiss.

You pull away, eyebrows furrowed in disgust. His eyes widen when he feels your warmth disappear. “Bathroom, really? You–You are just like all the others. I thought after the whole romantic balcony scene you would at least have the decency to ask me to your place.” You turn around to head back inside.

He stumbles forward, and grabs your wrist, eyes pleading. “Wait! I'm sorry! I'm nervous, please come over! I've never done this before, I promise I'm not like the others,” He basically begs and this time your eyes widen.

“Oh my. Don't tell me, the number one pro hero, is a virgin?” He looks away and goes silent. You throw your head back in laugh at the confirmation, and he pouts. Then, you grab onto the green tie and pull him forward, he stumbles in front of you, the blush returning. “I'm going to have so much fun with you, pretty boy.”

Tonight was the best night ever, Izuku decides when his head is thrown back, mouth open, as you sink onto his cock. How could he be missing this all of his years? It was so much better than the fantasy. So much better.

“Oh god,” He groans, hands coming to your hips instinctually. You begin to steady your movements, sitting on your knees in his lap.

“How does it feel? After all this time, you finally lost your virginity,” You say with a grin, hand running down to trace his chest. He nods, a drunken smile pulling at his face.

He gazes down at your sexes and moans. “Feels good. Warm, mhmm so warm.” His voice cracks, “and tight. So much b-better than my hand.”

You laugh, but it comes out in broken pants, so you lean forward to kiss him. He pulls away quickly, eyes wide and panicked. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I'm going to cum. No, no, it's too earlier. I can't” He shakes his head and clutches at the sheets beneath him, trying desperately to hold it back, as you continue to ride him.

You shake your head with an adoring gaze. “’s alright. We will just have to go again. And again and again, until you are all fucked out, hmm?”

He stares at you with hearts in his eyes, nodding rapidly. “Yes. Yes, please, please. Fuck. Cumming. I’m cuming!” And just like he said, he released his load in you and rolls his eyes back. Small gasps and a silent moan tumble down from his lips, and his hand shakes as he grips onto your hips.

You coax him through it with a smile, running your fingers through his unruly hair. When he comes down from his high he stares at you with a lazy grin, and the next thing you know you are being flipped over.

Your eyes widen as you feel Izuku start to move in and out again. It was surprising, he had just come down from his orgasm. Wasn't he being overstimulated? His pathetic whine answered your question. “Iz-Izuku, do you want to take a break?” You sigh when he begins to pick up the ruthless pace again.

He leans his head into your neck and shakes his head rapidly. His voice comes out in a pitchy whine, “But you said!” He grips the pillow next to your head and whimpers into your neck, feeling the pain of his spent cock being overworked.

“We can go again after you recover.” You gasp and clutch onto his back, sending nail marks down it. He groans. “So it won't hurt you.”

He shakes his head again and you can feel the drip of the tears falling onto your neck. He was trembling. “No. Please don't make me stop. ‘m good. So good. Feels so so good.”

You grin, maybe a little sadistically as you watch him begin to crumble. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer. He moans, high pitched, and loud. He presses his lips to your neck, sucking and marking any area he can lay his mouth on. You crane your neck to allow his urges. “I love it. I love it.” He half murmurs half whines in between kisses.

“Hmm?” You respond, not trusting yourself to speak while he begins to pick up the pace. One hand grips onto his hair and the other continues to scratch his back.

“Your pussy. S-So warm and tight. ’s like it was made for me.” He gasps and you laugh, to the best of your ability.

You pull him back by the mop on his head and he whines, eyes shut, as his head tilts backward. “What happened to my bashful virgin? You're so lewd now.” His hips pick up the pace.

He tries to the best of his ability to shake his head but ultimately fails under your grip. “But I love it! I do!” You laugh at the ridiculous response and let go of his hair. He collapses back and immediately buries his face into your neck again. “Im going to cum again. Can I cum? Please, please.”

“So quick. Still have a virgin body. Alright. For me, yeah?”

He nods a little embarrassed, and he feels his muscles begin to contract. He bites down on your shoulder and you hiss, but he ignores it, riding his second orgasm through. It's stronger and harder than the first and he screams into your skin, tears falling copiously down his round, flushed cheeks.

He peers down and widens his eyes when he sees his cum begin to leak out of your pussy. He gulps, feeling himself get hard once again, and flips you over immediately. “More. More. Please, just one more. One more time.” He lays completely on top of you and interjoins his fingers with yours.

He uses his arm to lift your hips up so that it was easier to fuck. It makes you raise your eyebrows. He must have watched a lot of porn to know that trick.

“What if I say no?” You tease and he releases an unsteady whine. His eyes are blurry from the tears.

“Please don't say no. Please, I love it. I love it so much. Please, Y/N!” He begs, dropping his head on the pillow next to your face.

“So needy.”

“P-Please.” He whimpers, in a voice so low you could barely hear and you grin.

“Alright. Go ahead.” You could barely finish your statement when all of a sudden he is pounding into you again, mumbling stuff like “Thank you. Thank you.” and “Good. So good.”

You know it hurts him. It has too, overstimulation is no joke. But the way he continues, eyes watery and hips frantic shows just how desperate he is. How obsessed he is with it. The pain didn't even matter to him, the thought of driving his cock into you spurred him on.

He wanted more. You opened his eyes, and once uncovering the truth, he could never get enough of it.

Fucking Izuku may not have been a good idea. In an instant, you turned this poor, cute virgin, into a pussy-starved man. But alas, he seems to only seek it from one particular person, so it may not be all that bad.

He came five times that night and you twice. He asked to go again, but you had to stop him when you took a peak at his fuming red cock, tear-stained cheeks, and trembling body. He doesn't seem to know when to stop.

You left early that morning, legs wobbly and body completely spent. He slept in, his body seeming to be more exhausted than yours.

When he woke up, his body sticky from sweat, his hair messy and body was sore, the first thing he took notice was the sticky note stuck onto his forehead.

Messy, cursive handwriting spelled out, I’ll be waiting for my lost puppy to come crawling back to me again. Xoxo, Y/N

He fell back onto the pillow with a groan. Not even a phone number. You were so cruel.

So, he does what any good puppy does. He attends every party for the next three weeks until he finds you again.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 1

Or: a secret Admirer AU

Less than a month into the school year, and Steve’s already making use of the library. If Mrs. Click could see him now, she’d be proud–until she caught sight of the blank notebook page in front of him and the lack of textbooks on the table. 

He feels stupid; he’s hunched over his notebook, trying to make his thoughts transfer onto the page in any coherent form. But, he’s not like Eddie with his impassioned speeches and clever English papers.

Words flow through Eddie in fully-formed, concrete ideas. For Steve, it’s more of a drip. Each word has to be scaffolded onto the previous one with blood, sweat, and tears. Even then, it’s never quite right. Too abrupt, never what he was actually trying to say.

He’s just never been good with words.

By the time he gives up, there’s more crossed out than left written, so he gets a clean page of paper and transcribes it as best he can. He’s left with:

       Your hair is pretty. Do you use conditioner?

Steve tears it from his notebook and lays it flat atop his table in the library, smoothing out any crinkles in the page. It feels like the start to something, sure, but there’s more blank space on the page than words. By a lot.

He leans back over his work, adds a little wonky heart in his blue pen and signs the whole thing—

       ❤ your secret admirer

—the way all the girls who leave notes in his locker do. Their notes are usually on pretty paper, written in sparkly gel pen that smells like strawberries. The i’s are sometimes dotted with little hearts he’ll never admit to finding cute. And there’s envelopes involved, and usually more than eleven measly words.

His looks like something Eddie’ll toss out before opening, mistaking it for trash.

Steve grimaces. How do girls do this? Do they all take some sort of class on how to write pretty letters on pretty enough paper that boys will fall in love with them? Is that what they teach in Home Ec? He should have never let Tommy mock him into switching to shop class.

Should he ask a girl?

Under no conditions will he ever ask Carol. She’d have far too many uncomfortable questions and tell the whole school all of his embarrassing answers. He’d be run out of town within days, Carol holding the sharpest pitchfork.

Steve leans back in his chair with a groan too loud for the library and fists his hands to rub tired eyes.

“Are you okay?” Steve jerks, sending his pen and paper careening to the ground in his attempt to cover the compromising words upon the page. “Oh, sorry!”

Steve watches, horrified, as Chrissy Cunningham bends down to pick his supplies up off the carpet before he’s had time to scramble out of his chair. She’s in her cheer uniform, white zip-up Hawkins hoodie covering her arms. She looks perfect and preppy and just like all the girls who’ve ever left a note in his locker.

She’d be able to write something that Eddie would want to read.

“Steve?” Chrissy’s hovering over him, lips pursed, eyes big and worried. “Are you okay?”

“Shit, sorry,” he replies. She’s got his note clutched to her chest. He curls his fingers against the urge to reach out for it—that’ll just draw her attention, and that’s the last thing Steve wants right now. “Just got lost in my head.”

“Anything I can help with?”

He knows what she’s going to do before it happens. Chrissy’s sweet—if there’s a way to help, she’ll want to. So, she holds out the paper and begins to read, probably expecting an assignment she can tutor him on, and there they are: Steve’s damning words written in still-wet blue ink.

Her brow furrows as she takes an obscene amount of time mouthing out the words before she looks back up to meet his eyes. “Did someone give this to you?”

Her eyes are still big, but they look sad now, like just the thought of someone receiving the note he’d slaved over is enough to distress her. Unable to help himself, Steve snatches it from her hands and crumples it into a ball, damning words hidden in his fist.

Chrissy gasps at his abrupt movement and takes a halting step away.

“I wrote it,” he mutters, no longer able to meet her eyes.

She’s silent for long enough that he’d think she left, except the library’s quiet, and he hasn’t heard her take a step. He stares at the grains of the wood in the table, empty hand rubbing against the smudged top as he waits for her to do something.

“Are you…” she starts, trailing off for a moment before picking her thought back up, “…picking on someone?”

Steve clenches his fist tighter, note crinkling beyond repair beneath his nails as he mutters, “no.”

Chrissy’s quiet again. Steve doesn’t dare to look up, even as he hears the chair across from him pull out, the sound of her weight settling into the wood. The table’s just so interesting. Nothing has ever been as intriguing as the little chip out of its edge, the ring on the wood where someone had let their drink condensate against all the library’s rules.

“Who’s this for?” Chrissy’s voice is soft now, like he’s some sort of horse, prone to bolting when spooked. “Steve?”

Steve looks up. Her eyes aren’t sad anymore; they’re piercing.

He’s always liked Chrissy. She’s the nicest girl in the school, until someone does something she doesn’t like. Then, it’s all disappointed eyes, and pouty lips. It’s like disappointing his Mom, but worse, because his Mom’s never around to stare balefully at him.

The point is, Chrissy’s nice. She’s not like Carol. If he told her, there would be no lynch mob, or fleeing Hawkins in the dead of the night with nothing but the clothes on his back. Probably. Maybe.

Steve tries to smooth out the page, and scowls down at it when the wrinkles refuse to disappear. It’s even worse now, words made illegible by the deep creases his fingers have pressed into the paper. There’s no way Eddie’d ever want a note like this.

So, he says, “Munson,” looking up to try to watch his meaning land on her face.

It doesn’t. Her foreheads all scrunched up as she looks down at the note. Only then does Steve realize he’s caressing the wonky little heart. He pulls his hand back, curling his fingers in so she can’t see the smudge of blue on his pointer finger.

“And you aren’t making fun of him?”

Steve can feel his shoulders drooping. He wants to disappear into the floor, melt into the carpet and become one with all the other mysterious stains upon it. “No.”

“Oh,” Chrissy replies, drawn out and low as she peers down at the crinkled note with a confused frown. But something must click because she straightens, eyes wide beneath her bangs. “Oh!”

It’s loud enough that they both reflexively flinch. But, when no librarians come skulking around any corners, Chrissy turns back to him, gaze uncomfortably intent. Steve wonders, somewhat horrified by the turn his life has taken, if he’s about to get hate-crimed by a cheerleader half his size.

But Chrissy’s nice—always has been, always will be. So, she bites her lip and looks furtively around like she’s only just realized this is a conversation that shouldn’t have any witnesses. “But you like him?” she whispers.

Steve leans forward, matching her energy and pitch as he replies, “yeah,” quiet enough that it’s barely a breath. Chrissy smiles at him, warm and small, just like her hand as she reaches across the table to put it over his and squeeze comfortingly.

The note sits, damningly soiled beneath their linked hands, wrinkled, and smudged, and barely-legible handwriting. The weight that’d lifted with Chrissy’s smile sinks back into his gut.

“But it doesn’t matter,” Steve says, letting go of her hand so he can pull the note closer to himself. “I’m no good at this stuff.”

Steve crinkles the note back up. It’s unsalvageable—a stupid idea executed badly.

He’s in the middle of stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans to keep his keys company until he can toss it out in the comfort of his home when Chrissy says, “maybe I can help?” voice lilting up, like it’s a question.

Steve meets her eyes, hand still half-shoved in his pocket. She’s all earnest now, the way she usually is when there isn’t a sad boy infecting her with his own ineptitude. Eyes shining with conviction, bangs curling sweetly around her face. She’s no Carol, that’s for sure.

“How?” he asks, and when she smiles, it looks a bit like hope.

***

 “I can help you write a better letter,” Chrissy starts. He perks up like a dog the moment its owner gets home. “If you do something for me.”

She feels like scum when he curls back into himself, gaze forlorn.

When she’d caught sight of the note he’d spent what seemed like a full hour pouring over, this isn’t what she’d been expecting. And when she’d finally made out his chicken scratch scrawl, she’d been sure Steve was picking on someone, no matter how unlike him it would have been. But then his shoulders had curled in, and his ears had turned red, and his voice had gone all soft and squishy when he’d said Eddie Munson’s name.

And she’d just wanted to fix it.

So, even as he asks, “what?” all sad and droopy again, she knows she’s going to help him, no matter what he says.

“Date me,” she asserts. It’s only as Steve blinks stupidly at her that she realizes how that came out of her mouth. “No, wait, not really!”

Her hands are waving around wildly and she can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. In contrast, Steve seems to come back into himself, shoulders shoring up as he smirks across at her with his signature raised brow. The one he’d used while leaning on Nancy Wheeler’s locker last year, or holding her books as they walked to class, and all the other assortment of stereotypical boyfriend activities.

He’d worn it all the time, like it was part of the uniform. 

“I just meant, we could fake it?” His right eyebrow raises to meet his left, forehead scrunching up with his incredulity. “It’s just, Jason and I broke up? And he won’t leave me alone.”

It takes all her strength to keep meeting his eyes as the seconds tick away. But then Steve nods, swings his letterman jacket off, and tosses it across at her. Unprepared for his sudden movement, it hits her in the face and drops into her lap.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he says with a cheesy wink that somehow manages to feel more genuine than any of his actual flirting techniques. “Gotta sell it somehow.”

“What a romantic,” she replies, deadpan, but she pulls his jacket on anyway, something that feels an awful lot like relief steadying her heart rate as she smooths down the too-long sleeves.

Jason’s going to freak out. But after that, maybe he’ll stop calling her house, and trying to put his arm around her at lunch, and trying to pick her up for school every morning. She’d do almost anything to get it into his thick skull that she’s not interested.

So, here she is, hashing out the details of a secret admirer letter from Steve Harrington to Eddie Munson, of all the unlikely pairings.

“What’s wrong with what I wrote?” Steve whines, running his fingers through his hair until it’s all mussed up and falling into his face.

Chrissy snorts. “It sounds like you’re telling him his hair is frizzy and dry.”

“I said it was pretty!” He throws his hands in the air before crossing them and pouting his lower lip out.

Chrissy can’t help but laugh. She’s always liked Steve. He’s nicer than most of his friends, and he’s easy to talk to. But this is a side she’s never seen of him. She’s not sure anyone has; can’t imagine Carol or Tommy seeing him put his whole heart into something and not tearing it to shreds.

“Do you use conditioner?” she asks, throwing finger quotations around it as she reads it off the crumpled page.

Steve’s blushing again, cheeks all blotchy and red, rather unbecoming for the shoo-in for this year’s prom king. “Well, I thought you said you’d help!” he says, a little too loud for the library.

So, that’s how she ends up spending the next hour painfully turning Steve’s earnest thoughts into words on the pretty baby blue paper she’d carefully removed from the back of her daily planner.

In the end, they’re left with this:

       Eddie –

       I wish I could say this to your face, but I’ve never been good with words, and you’d probably think it was a joke.

       I can’t even get myself to talk to you, you’re so distracting.

       I like how pretty your hair is. How do you get your curls so shiny? I want to run my fingers through them.

       I hope this note brightens up your day. You deserve all the smiles you can get.

       Yours,

       Your Secret Admirer

It’s not what she would write, but still, it’s leagues better than what he’d started with. She slides it across to Steve, and he smiles down at it. He reaches his hand out, fingers almost brushing the page before he pulls his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.

“What if someone sees me?” he asks, voice so quiet she can barely hear him even in the resounding silence of the library.

They’d managed not to talk about it, the dangers of Steve liking a boy. But it’d been present in the hesitancy by which he shared each of his thoughts, looking up at her like each remark would be the last straw before she recoils in disgust.

If someone finds out that Steve has a crush on a boy, it won’t take long until he’s getting beat up between classes or heckled straight out of school. Heck, even with all the rumors floating around about him, Eddie might be the one to throw the first punch.

“Do you want me to deliver it for you?” she asks.

“You’d do that?” he asks back, because apparently no one ever taught him not to answer a question with a question. “For me?”

“What else are fake girlfriends for?” she asks because they’re all questions now, no answers to be had between the pair of them.

Steve laughs, all tension leaving his shoulders as he throws his head back with amusement, eyes downright twinkling as he beams across at her.

“You’re the best, Chrissy,” Steve says, smiling even brighter as she replies, “I know.”

She leaves school that night after pushing Steve Harrington’s love note through the slats of Eddie’s locker, Steve’s letterman jacket keeping her warm from the cold.

This might be the best relationship she’s ever had, fake or not. Eat your heart out, Jason Carver.

PART 2

Welcome to my new AU! This will be posted in 21 parts. It is complete, so there will be a new update each morning until it's all posted. I've elected not to do a tag list, but it will be added to my pinned post each day as well. If that's not your speed, it will be added to Ao3 once it's all been posted here.

Special shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for not only their usual fabulous beta work, but also both the original idea and the writing of some of the secret admirer letters. You not only make me a better writer, but this work literally would not exist without you. <3<3

Title of the fic from the song Eyes in the Sun by Florist

[wakeup01]

hi i would love if you could transform me into your stupid foot slave.

Clean Slate

“What do you want to be in life?” I ask you as we relax at my place at the end of our date. You give a rather non committal shrug as I peel off my socks and rest my feet on the living room table.

“Huh. No career ambitions? Artist, scientist…cleaner?” I smile at you as you approach and sit across from me, scrunching your nose slightly while the scent of my feet wafts over to you.

“N—no. I guess not.” You reply sheepishly, your eyes leaving mine as they lower to my large feet.

“I’m sure we can find your place in life. You probably have lots to give. Talented at many things. Such as…cleaning.” I sway my feet back and forth on the table as I watch your eyes follow them. “Just keep watching.”

“Huh?” Distracted, you don’t even look away. My feet and their movements were utterly fascinating. “I—I don’t…”

“Cleaning.” I repeat bluntly. “I bet you’re good at cleaning.” Your back bends as you naturally feel yourself lean forward, your head lowering slightly as my feet take up more of your vision. I hear you take a tentative sniff, your eyes glazing over.

Cleaning.

“Cl—cleeaning.” You slur as a bit of drool slides from your mouth. I give a little snicker as I witness you lick your lips. Your head begins to sway along with my hypnotic sweaty feet. Mirroring it’s motion. The smell at this point was incredibly overpowering, burning away your feeble inhibitions. My feet are fucking your mind, my toes pushing to the back of your skull. Reshaping your soft brain like playdoh. Back and forth. Back and forth…

“See, I’m not so much looking for a ‘boyfriend’. Too much maintenance. But I’m sure we can find a use for you. Cleaning clothes perhaps? Maybe bathroom cleaning? No. Cleaning…feet.” I look down and validate you with a smirk.

Cleaning. Feet.

“Foot cleaning. Yes, yes I think that’s your place in life. A mindless foot cleaner. Cleaning my rank feet. You’re very skilled at it.” I assert, placing my hand on your head and guiding you closer. “It’s okay. Some of us are meant to improve the world, some of us are meant to be productive members of society. And some of us, some of us are meant to lick the space between men’s toes.”

“I…no. Please.” You plead as your face enters my feet’s gravitational pull. The musk flowing up your nose and swimming around your emptied, foot fucked mind. They smelled just as you suspected they would, of feet. Your attention is captivated by a bead of sweat on my sole. It didn’t belong there, there on my perfect feet. You feel an impulse growing. A need. You needed to…needed to…

“Clean.” I answer for you. Making everything suddenly fall into place. It just made sense. “Clean my stinky feet.”

You shudder, any hint of resistance fading in an instant. Your mouth obediently opens and your tongue glides down the length of my sole, picking up all the sweat and grime that gathered from our long walk. The taste is sour and foul but for some shameful reason, that stirs your cock. You didn’t want this, but not wanting it made you so unbelievably hard. My feet had successfully hypnotised your mind, conditioning you to kneel at the mere sight of them. Seeing my sole was the only trigger needed for your mouth to water, for your thoughts to dissipate. For you to become no more than a rag to wipe my feet clean.

“Always glad to see someone enjoy their job so immensely.” I bend forward and pin a little badge to your shirt. The two words printed on it in basic typeface describe your entire existence ‘Foot Cleaner’. Now no one, including you would be confused about your role in life.

“Cweeann siiir.” You moan with a mouth full of my flavourful foot cheese.

I laugh above you, flexing my arms as you perform your job. “Good boy. Good foot cleaner. Lick every inch until they’re glistening with your saliva. Aren’t you happy I helped you find the height of your aspirations at the bottom of my feet. Dumb idiot.”

“Yusss, thank you sir.” You wanted to be a good obedient boy for master.

“Shut up and work.” I shove my feet into you, rubbing them across your face. “I expect my feet to be spotless slave. You will be here every evening from now on to fulfil your duty. And then you will pay me for the privilege like the pathetic foot slut that you are.”

Do I make myself clear?

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Bros, Bros, and more Bros

I made a mistake! My cousin told me about this fortune teller that cast a spell on him. Apparently, it made every man he ran into act like a fatherly figure in his life. I had an awesome dad, but I've always struggled to connect with guys my own age, so I tracked the witch down and begged her for another spell. She eventually came around, but the effects aren't quite what I expected...

"Sup, dude! Wanna skip and hit the park?"

My eyes stretch wide to take in the sight of my own father, carrying a skateboard over his shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's been acting like this for weeks; not washing his hair, barely even washing himself, and constantly wearing that stupid cap backwards. He's lost any sense of his old self!

"Dad, it's Monday. You've got work," I reply, not wanting him to piss his boss off.

"Work blows!" he sneers, "I hate wearing this stupid tie, and I'd rather hang with you, bro."

I sigh as my father tosses down his skateboard and extends a palm, pulling me into a cliche bro-hug where he claps me on the back. My dad used to give out hugs all the time, but it was never as performatively masculine as this. All this stupid curse did was turn my father into an 40 year-old frat guy.

"You're going to work," I say firmly, "And I'm going to school. We can play videogames or whatever when we get back later tonight."

"Bruuhhh!" he groans, "Fine. I'll catch you later, dude. There's pizza in the fridge if you want."

The idea of leftover pizza this early in the morning makes my stomach ache. My dad used to cook an entire meal every morning, complete with fruits and veggies. Now, he'd probably settle for a bag of chips.

The man leaves the skateboard behind and grabs his suit jacket, pulling it on with an attitude. He gives me one last head nod before bounding out of the house, hair flowing behind him. I imagine it's only a matter of time before my dad's boss is fed up with his new persona. I can't imagine a bro-personality is very conducive to getting work done in a corporate office. Hopefully, he'll mature soon.

With an empty stomach, I saunter out of the kitchen and walk to campus. I'm grateful to live close to the university. Hopefully, my curse won't get in the way of my day.

"Hey, how's my favorite student doing, bro?"

My professor yells and breaks into a goofy grin at the sight of me. I close the door to his office to give us a bit of privacy. Mr. Carlton only acts like this when I stop by, so his colleagues would be shocked to see such a drastic shift in his usually stoic personality.

"I'm good, Professor Carlton," I say, "I wanted to check on my grade for this course."

"No need to be so formal, dude," he smiles, clapping me on the back, "You can call me Daniel. Want a drink? I have some bourbon."

"I'm good. I really just-"

"Relax, bro," my professor says, shoving a glass in my hand, filled to the brim, "This is good stuff. I save it for special occasions, so sit down! Kick your shoes off! I don't care!"

The department head pulls off his suit jacket and leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and stretching his arms behind his head. I'd never seen the man act so unprofessional, but ever since the curse, he's started treating me like his closest buddy.

"Professor...sorry...Daniel, I just wanted to hear about my grade."

"I got you, bro!" he laughed, "Just keep doing what you're doing. I don't care if you don't show up!"

My shoulders relax. That's what I want to hear. It's not that I don't want to attend his lectures, but the last time I did, he started acting like a jackass in front of the entire class of 50 students. His presentation went from ancient monetary systems to ratings of best celebrity nip-slips. It's a miracle he didn't get fired!

"Ok, good. I have to go," I say checking the time, "And you have class in 20 minutes."

"Shit, I know," he groans and gulps down the rest of his booze, "Another day another dollar, I guess. When can we hang out, man? Tonight? I really wanna hang out with my guy."

"Nope, sorry!" I tense up and grab my backpack, "Good luck with the lecture."

"Right on, bro," he holds a sad hand up for a high-five, swallowing the rest of the drink he poured me.

I give my tipsy professor a halfhearted clap and scamper out of the office as quickly as possible. These interactions make me cringe so hard when a grown man acts young and cool for me. It's especially awkward to see such a respected individual sink to such a low level. What would we even do if he came over?

"Dude! Long time, no see!"

In the hallway, I run into the football coach and two of the team's best players. The three of them look like they're getting back from an early morning conditioning session. They're all sweaty, panting, and happy to see me.

"Oh, hey," I muster, feeling increasingly less cool around these jocks. I hate to admit it, but guys like this wouldn't give me the time of day before I got that bro-curse.

"Hey, man! You gotta come hang out with us," the brunette grins, "The team's still changing, but you're cool to come in the locker room!"

"Yeah, bro!" the blonde quickly adds, "We'd love to have you in there!"

My heart pounds faster and faster. This is why I've never been able to connect with guys my own age. I find myself boning up every time they look in my direction. Now that these two athletes are practically begging for me to join them in the locker room, my erection is bursting out of my pants!

"We can take care of that too," the coach suddenly mentions, pointing a finger at the tent I'm trying to hide in my crotch.

"What?" I stammer with a dry mouth.

"What do you think bros are for?" the coach continues, clapping his two players on the back, "My boys would be happy to help a brother out!"

The two football jocks nod. It feels like I'm dreaming, and I don't know what to do. Before I can decide, the two athletes have approached and grabbed me by the arm. Their grips are firm, and I realize I'm being escorted into the changing room whether I like it or not!

"Who's this guy?"

My stomach drops as I enter the locker room, finding an array of footballers in different states of dress. They all glance up at me with confusion, like I'm not supposed to be there, but then their faces soften. The gypsy's magic sets in, and they don't see a stranger when they look at me. They see their bro.

"Oh, it's you, bro," the same jock says, letting down his guard. I think I recognize him as the quarterback.

"Oh yeah, dude!" the massive lineman stands up and pulls me into a sweaty hug, "Glad you're here!"

"That's right guys," the brunette at my side says, still holding me tightly in place, "Our best bud is here, and he needs some attention."

My face flushes as I suddenly remember the problem poking out between my legs. By now, the entire football team is staring at it. If anything, it's only become more rock solid.

"Let me take care of that for you, bro," the quarterback says, grabbing my crotch without any hesitation.

"Move, I'll do it," says the lineman, pushing the quarterback out of the way and getting on his knees. He opens his mouth wide and-

"Shut up, all of you!" the coach suddenly roars! The locker room falls silent: these athletes are really well trained. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. Line up!"

"Yes, coach!"

The jocks back up and form a line in front of the lockers. Even the blonde and brunette that were holding me, release and join the rest of the team on the bench. Suddenly, I'm standing with the coach, looking at an entire team of well-disciplined football players. My throbbing erection is very apparent and pointing right at the small crowd of muscular men.

"Our bro deserves to be kept satisfied, right?" the coach slams a hand on my back.

"Yes, coach!" they shout back.

"So we don't just want to get our boy off once and move on, now do we?" he punctuates his question with another slap, this time lower on my back.

"No, coach!"

"We're going to set up a system for us to get him off whenever he needs it!"

"Yes, coach!"

The broad-shouldered and balding coach gives me one more slap, clapping me on the ass this time while staring into my eyes. "I'm gonna have my boys take turns sucking you off, bro. You just tell me which one's your favorite. Sound cool?"

I manage to mumble my assent, and with one look from coach, the quarterback is on his knees crawling towards my crotch. He pulls down my pants and unleashes my aching hard-on. "I got you, bro," he says, before putting his mouth to work.

After a few minutes, the coach pulls the jock off my pole and orders the linebacker to get busy. Before long, it's the brunette's turn, then the blonde's. I cycle through all 30 of the team's exceptional players, and I've gotten off more than just a few times. It's impossible to choose a favorite.

At the end of it all, the coach pushes the last player aside and says, "My turn, bro," before opening his mouth as wide as he can.

The entire football team watches as I spend the next 15 minutes just filling their coach's eager throat. When I'm finally done, I feel completely spent. I swap numbers with each jock and am repeatedly promised that they will be available whenever I call, but it isn't enough. They want to hang out with me now. They want to go out and party. I find it too difficult to say 'no' to a group of 30 eager athletes, so I let them sweep me up and take me to the nearest bar.

Needless to say, we end up causing a bit too rowdy of a scene.

"I got a complaint about a bunch of college idiots causing a ruckus. Would that be you?"

The officer was all business when he first walked in the bar. My football bros were dancing and yelling, barely even paying attention to the policeman scowling at the wild scene in front of him. He looked pissed, and his glare only softened when it found me.

"Woah, didn't know you were here, man," the cop says, cracking a slight grin on his hardened face.

"Well, I am!" I cry, feeling the effects of all the drinks my bros had been buying for me, "You should forget about work and party with us!"

"You got it, dude! Screw this badge!" the officer yells, pulling me into a tight embrace. I guess the bro-curse even works on law-enforcement!

Just like that, I'm dancing with a policeman in the middle of the dance floor. He doesn't have any moves, but he loosens up after we get some beer down his throat. The football team loves watching the cop party right alongside them. Apparently, this guy has broken up many of their parties in the past.

"Drink! Drink! Drink!"

The officer gulps down his seventh beer and slams the glass on the floor. It breaks, but the shattering is largely drowned out by the music. His onlookers go wild, but I can see the intoxication on his face. Beer is plastered around his mouth and dripping down his neck to soak into his uniform. I doubt this man has ever been this drunk in uniform before.

He stumbles over and throws a muscled arm over my shoulder, "Come here, bro. Let's do some shots or something!"

"I think it might be time to call it a night, officer," I yell in his ear.

"Oh, screw that!" he whines, "And don't call me officer! It's so formal!"

"Ok, what should I call you?"

"I dunno..." he mutters, "Buck! Call me Buck. That's what my wife calls me."

I roll my eyes at the mention of his wife. Of course this guy is taken. He's a complete stud of man. I've always liked a guy in uniform.

"How'd you like to come home with me tonight, Buck?" I ask sheepishly.

He lights up, "Bro, I thought you'd never ask!"

The cop grabs my arm with a wicked grin and stomps his way towards the door, dragging me along like I'm the prize he won at a fair. The players on the football team all stare at him with envy, mad that he's stealing their new best friend away for the night. I could see how badly each one of the jocks wished they were the one having a sleepover with me tonight.

"Hop in, I'll drive," officer Buck slurs his words and gestures to the police cruiser with his free hand.

"I think I'll handle the driving, if that's alright," I say, "Just hand over the keys."

"Anything for you, bro."

"Looks like someone got lucky!"

"Oh my God. Dad you're still up?"

"Bro, you said you'd play videogames tonight and then you never showed! What was I supposed to do?" he retorts, unbothered by the late hour or the cop hanging on my arm.

"You have to go to work in 4 hours!" I scream, "And you haven't even changed out of today's work clothes! What are you thinking?"

"Chill, bro," my dad says, turning to the drunk policeman holding my hand, "Take him to the bedroom and show him a good time. I'm sure you were going to, but the dude could use some extra help relaxing tonight."

The sound of my own father encouraging the man I brought home to 'show me a good time' makes me question everything again. My dad just witnessed his son bringing home a cop that's the same age as him. He doesn't even care! I want to tell him to grow up and be the man I used to know, but Buck is already jerking on my arm.

"Let's go, bro," he mumbles lowly, using his strong arms to drag me into the bedroom.

"Enjoy your new cop friend, bro!" my father calls and I hear the sounds of his videogames start back up.

I barely have time to worry about any of it. Has this curse gone too far? Will my dad make it to work tomorrow? Does Buck have a wife I need to worry about!?

It all goes away when I'm thrown on the bed. The intoxicated officer flips the lights down low, and stumbles in front of me. He may be drunk, but he is certainly not a disappointment. The cop stares down at me as he rips his state-issued hat off and unbuttons his dark uniform shirt, all the while moving his hips to the beat of gunfire from dad's videogame in the living room.

With his hairy chest exposed, he crawls on top of me and whispers in my ear, "Where do you want me to start? Us bros gotta look out for each other, don't we?"

[rixsjwb]

geto sugurus the type. drabble

sugurus the type to: stares at you lovingly while you bicker with friends, he's manspread on the couch while you and gojo argue about stupid things but he can't help but stare at you while you argue.

sugurus the type to: put his large hands on the small of your back to navigate you in a crowded area and to gently move you from being in people's way

sugurus the type to: play with his hair when he's stressed, if his hair was flying freely he'd run his hand throught it when somethings irritating him.

sugurus the type to: get you your favorite fast food without you knowing, and he gets it when you crave it the most so you always end up so happy when he comes to your apartment with it in his hand.

sugurus the type to: help you with any science related subject because he's so good at it somehow.

sugurus the type to: not care about a so called 'indirect kiss' he'll drink from the same can as you, bite the same food as you off the same spoon or fork even if yall were friends. (But if he was in his villain era, he'd probably chop you up real good cause he doesn't wanna kiss no monkey😋)

sugurus the type to: hide his feelings when he's down, and he's really good at it, but you're even better at detecting even a slight change in his mood.

sugurus the type to: get matching earrings and tattoos with you if you have any.

sugurus the type to: indirectly put you in some intimate positions even when you're both friends, he'd lie his head in your chest or stomach while on your phone or

he'd be the type to: cage you into a position with his hands leaning on a desk that your back was leaning on and his hands are located near your waist leaving you with no room to escape.

sugurus the type to: notice any slight different change in your body, like many you suffer from seizures or fainting, it's like he has a 7th sense and can tell when somethings off about you.

sugurus the type to: have a period blood tracker on his phone to track your flow and bring you food that could help ease the cramps.

sugurus the type to: read a bedtime story to you and you'd fall asleep immediately.

sugurus the type to: hate going to bed after a argument you and him had, he overthinks too much so he just can't go to sleep without making things right between you two.

sugurus the type to: flirt and tease you if you easily get flustered but doesn't go overboard with it.

sugurus the type to: occasionally text you, check up on you, and over all know of your well-being.

sugurus the type to; play roblox with you and help you harasse and troll little kids

sugurus the type to:walks on the outside part of the sidewalk while you walk on the inside.

[unformula1]

part 2 for that lando fic plzz 🙏🙏 ill patiently wait 🥹

promises - 2 (ln4)

part 1 || lando reaches out to you, and you seek the closure you need (3898 words) a/n: this one is pretty long so take a break mid read if you need. i also spent SO LONG trying to find the right way to close this. if theres any feedback dont be afraid to share. || masterlist taglist/thanks for supporting lol: @unknownmystery22 @hlhl99 @landorris @aleatorio1234 @sopanngon @abq46 @notsoordinaryatlas @hadesnumber1daughter @milk-en-suggarrr @daemyratwst @artsucker12 @pancakes4nina @cmleitora @krishasworld @chicanecharm43381310

“Lando?” You audibly spoke.

Your finger hovered over the notification for a few seconds as you stared blankly at the screen. 

Why would he text you? And more specifically, why now?

You quickly sat back down on your couch, taking a deep breath and mentally preparing yourself. You didn’t even know why you were so stressed about this.

You opened the notification and sat there as the app took what felt like forever to load into the DM.

landonorris: hi, remember me? hope you do :) i’m coming back this week, do you wanna meet up.

Oh. Oh.

You gave yourself a few seconds to process everything, placing your phone face down on the couch. 

Lando Norris just DMed you.

The Lando Norris. 

The Lando Norris who used to be friends with you

The Lando Norris who cut ties with you

“Okay.” You whispered to yourself as the air in your apartment grew tense. You picked your phone back up.

This was so stupid, why were you thinking so much about this? This was still that little kid at the playground who talked about taking over the world with a racing kart.

You stared at your phone, the message glowing on the screen back into your eyes. A small part of you wanted to be bitter, say no, reject him. For all the lost years that you two could've had, for the unfulfilled promises that he probably threw away in favour of his bigger ambitions.

You sighed. Deep down, nothing would ever come between you and Lando. You liked to believe you two would still be as close as you two were back then. Your emotions were feeling all too complex, all too messy. 

You typed in your message and sent them as quickly as possible, before you’d second-think yourself.

hi lando. it’s been a while. i’d love to meet up again. send me the details.

You internally cringed at yourself before switching off your phone. 

Now it was just you, and your thoughts.

You missed Lando but he made all those empty, bland, pointless promises only to ditch them all to fly towards his ambitions; and it took you forever but eventually, you came to peace with it. 

It was probably the hardest thing you had to do, you couldn’t just forget 10-ish years of friendship, some of your purest moments with Lando, your toughest and your wildest moments. You basically grew up with him, and watched him grow, and somehow now you had to live without it.

You never left the town you two grew up in, it never felt right to abandon your entire childhood. Never felt right to abandon Lando. So you stayed, you got your own apartment, your own job. You also visited the playground a few times a month, just for the feels, or when you desperately needed someone to talk to.

No one came close to Lando. Or rather, no one would ever come close to what Lando made you feel. If he was the standard, everyone else fell short.

Sometimes, when things got tough, you’d visit the playground again, sitting at the exact same spot and looking up at the moon, then everything would start flowing back in, all the wishes, the stinging feelings.

But anyway, Lando was gone and that was something that you couldn’t change. 

Your phone chimed again, snapping you out of your swirling thoughts, prompting you to pick your phone back up.

landonorris: i’m free this weekend so i’m coming back if that’s okay landonorris: we have a lot of catching up to do.

You took a deep breath. It wasn’t worth dwelling on the negatives, you could sort that out when he arrived. It was always better to talk about these things in person… right?

He sent you another message.

landonorris: and i have an apology to make

You froze. Oh shit.

You blinked a few times, concerned that your eyes were playing some trick on you.

They weren’t.

You opened the DM on a slight impulse. Looking at the messages, you didn’t really know what to reply.

i’m excited to see you again 

i’ll pick you up at the airport

You settled on liking the message about an apology, at least he would know you weren’t just conveniently ignoring it.

It took some time but it dawned on you the gravity of it all. It was years of disconnection that would culminate in a few days, and it would probably determine if this friendship would continue.

You never thought that one day you’d be messaging Lando again, let alone agreeing to meet up with him. It just felt so unreal, like you were in some sick fever dream, but it wasn’t. This was real.

No normal person would’ve done this, but you and Lando didn’t have a normal relationship, it was both of your childhoods. So this made sense. Right?

It held something in your heart, because you wanted this to continue, you were still that child who never wanted to let Lando leave the airport and never come back. However, you also didn’t know if this was right, more empty promises were only going to hurt you even more.

You took a deep breath.

You were ready for this.

—

You were, in fact, probably never ready for this. You couldn’t mentally prepare yourself for this. How could you?

You were in the taxi on the way to the airport, as you stared at the chat messages. You had messaged each other back and forth for this whole week, nothing more than simple, surface level messages and the occasional “remember when”. Something always felt weird, pretending the years of no contact never existed.

You looked out the window as the giant buildings upon buildings graced your eyes. You hadn’t been here in forever, not since Lando left. You never really needed to leave this place.

You held onto the gift you got for him, which were cookies, the ones your parents used to make for you and him. The ones he loved and always begged for more. You hoped he still liked them.

Around your neck was the necklace he gave you all those years ago, which you still kept by your bedside, just for old-times sake. You hoped he still had his one.

You exited the taxi and walked through the automatic doors of the airport. The gush of air conditioning rushed against your face as you stood there. It wasn’t even peak season and the place was packed. 

You double checked the gate which Lando sent you before making your way over there, gripping tightly onto the packet of cookies. You spent hours finding the perfect packaging for it, maybe you were a perfectionist, or maybe you just wanted it perfect for Lando.

You took some time, since the place had changed a lot since you last came here, but you found the gate. You leaned against a nearby pillar, holding onto your gift for him pretty tightly, almost creasing the packaging. 

You waited patiently for him as your mind reminisced the last time you were here.

His tear stained eyes looking into yours as he hugged you tightly, promising to stay in touch. Then he turned around and left, looking back at you a few times as you couldn’t bear to watch him go.

You dreamt about it a few times, and times where you’d run after him and not let him go, or where he’d stop, turn around and come back to you, choosing not to go. Then you’d wake up.

Now, it was really happening. You would watch him walk out the gates of the airport, not into them. He wouldn’t disappear into the crowd, but he’d be running towards you. Hopefully.

You glanced up at the flight board.

LANDED

You pushed yourself up from leaning on the wall, straightening your posture, taking a deep breath as you waited behind the railings near the exit of the arrival hall. The minutes crept by slowly, your eyes kept darting around, constantly fiddling with your fingers. 

This was real. You were about to see Lando again, after who knows how many years.

Your foot tapped against the marbled floor incessantly, and you felt your fingers tangling and untangling themselves as a large crowd of people flooded into the arrival hall. You felt your breathing grow shaky as the nervousness engulfed your beating heart.

With their luggages, people exited the arrival hall, running up to their family, giving them tight hugs, or those being gifted with flowers. You glanced over at them, smiling slightly at the pure joy that filled the area. As the seconds slowly crawled by, your heart rate increased, thumping hard against your ribcage, you could feel the vibrations around your body. 

Why were you even nervous? You told yourself and closed your eyes, taking constant breaths in and out.

You opened your eyes slowly.

And there he was, in all his glory.

Lando Norris.

Lando’s curls had definitely gotten more curlier, and he grew himself a stubble, which you vividly remember him always being unable to. His face had grown more mature since the last time. 

However, his eyes were still that same brown-blue glistening.

He looked over at you, finally noticing you as you zoned out just looking at him. He smiled, and made a subtle wave. He held his luggage in one hand, having a duffle bag strapped around the handles, and in his other was a black hoodie.

You snapped out of your daze and waved back at him. He picked up his walking speed, rolling his luggage over to the exit of the arrival hall, before snaking around the railing. He wasn’t running, he was brisk walking over to you.

And now you two, were once again, face to face. It would never hurt less, just remembering the last time they were doing this, Lando would be turning away and walking off, disappearing for the next decade or so.

But that was last time. This was now.

Lando placed the hoodie onto the top of the duffle bag, opening his arms slightly. You stood there for a while, your eyes trailing all over Lando.

Then you released your emotions, you felt the tears slowly spill out as you sprinted into his arms, embracing him tightly. Your arms clasped around his body, keeping him in your embrace. You felt his arms slowly come around your body as well as he hugged you back.

You could hear some ‘aww’s in the background of it all but nothing mattered more than this. 

It was years upon years of missing him, and now you had him. It took you two a few long long seconds before you pulled away from him, wiping away the remaining tears on your face. It was clear he cried a little too as he used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his face.

“Hi.” Lando said after a deep breath. His voice felt so much deeper, so much more different than last time. Only now do you catch his necklace, he remembered, he kept it with him, he’s wearing it. 

Then once again, it felt like nothing ever stood between you two, like the sky could fall and you two would still stand with each other.

“Lando…” You said, trying to sound confident but your voice faltered slightly.

You hand him the packet of cookies and he receives them with visible marvel. His hands felt soft against yours as he took the packet of cookies, placing them in his duffle bag. 

“Well uh…thanks.” Lando said, rubbing the back of his neck, “My hotel isn’t ready for a few hours.”

“We can talk later.” You blurted, “We could eat first.”

He nodded.

The cab ride was silent, too silent for your liking. It made you think again, deeper this time. You genuinely missed Lando, sure you “moved on” but you could never replace Lando. You reminisced again, the same recurring dream you had for the first few months, when you didn’t know if you could see Lando again. The same nightmare which haunted you when you two stopped talking for good.

Lando shuffled closer to you, which pulled you out of your thoughts. He yawned and looked at you, flashing a really subtle smile, running his hand through his curly hair.

He looked at you knowingly, like he knew all your thoughts right now. You smile back, hoping it doesn’t come off as shaky and uncertain. His head slowly falls down towards your shoulder, and you don’t stop him.

His head is now resting comfortably, hopefully, on your shoulder as he shifts even closer to you. You catch a glimpse at his face, it’s peaceful, like nothing in the world could hurt him, like when you two were kids. His breathing is constant, the rise and fall of his chest is tranquil. 

—

As both of you wait outside the restaurant, Lando says, “Actually, I’m not hungry.” 

You turn to look at him.

“Could we maybe just… take a walk.” Lando suggests.

You shrug, you didn’t mind anything. 

“With all your luggage?” You ask.

“Yea, I don’t really mind.” He says.

“Sure.” You reply.

Both of you walk away from the restaurant, walking in some general direction. 

And now, in the endless constant motion of the world, it gave both of you a moment, a moment to talk.

He takes a deep breath, fingers tapping on the handle of his luggage, “Sorry.” His voice softens.

You nod, knowing you couldn’t postpone this for much longer.

“I missed you.” You say after a pause, “I missed you a lot.”

Lando’s head drops as he wipes away what seems like tears.

“I know…” He says, his voice shaky, “I shouldn’t have-”

This was a really bad place to have a breakdown, you tell yourself, even though you felt the growing urge in your body to just let everything loose.

“I can’t stop thinking about how horrible it was.” Lando says, clearly he is letting himself loose, “I didn’t mean to lose contact with you, I know that must’ve hurt you.”

You nod again, not really sure if you should respond to him.

“It’s been haunting.” He says, “I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t… no, I should never have left you alone.” He says, “I made all these stupid promises to you which I never bothered keeping and… and it just… you didn’t deserve any of that.”

Lando’s hands are slowly gripping harder and harder onto the necklace around his neck. 

“You basically grew up with me and… I shouldn’t have let anything make me forget that.” He takes a deep breath, “But I did, and I know I hurt you.”

You feel something warm bubbling in your body. It was so stupid, how all you needed was this moment, and it happened on a sidewalk of a randomly busy road. You shut your eyes and take it all in.

“And I know it took me too long to realise that, and I’m sorry that it took me that long.” He says, his voice shaking as time went on, “I’m here now, and please… let me fix it.”

The silence for a few seconds prompts you to speak up.

You gently hold the hand that was gripping his necklace. You feel him loosen his grip.

“You know, when we were still kids, you used to tell me how you’d take over the world and all that…”

Lando’s face darkens as he nods.

“And guess what,” You smile slightly, “You did exactly that, and I’m so… so… proud of you, and nothing will ever come between that.”

Tears brim in Lando's eyes and you don’t know how much longer you’ll last.

“I couldn’t ask for anything better for you.”

Lando slowly falls into your embrace once again, you catch him and tightly hold onto him.

Between sobs, he says, “Please… please I’m sorry, I’ll fix everything.”

You gently pat his back, “You don’t have to fix anything.”

Sure you were bitter about him leaving you alone, but this was Lando, this was the same kid at the playground, and you would never forget that.

Because at the end of the day, you weren’t mad at Lando, you never were, you just missed him. You missed knowing that Lando would be there for you, and that he would stay with you.

You spent all those years just wishing on something new, wondering where it all went wrong and where you went wrong. How all of this fits into the grand scheme of things in your endless dramatic cycle of your life.

The closure was here.

Lando kept holding onto you tightly.

“I promise.” He says, “For real this time.”

For real. 

Years of unfinished stories and failing to find closure in yourself and here it was, presenting itself in the open. You hug him back, and sob softly. You couldn’t care less about what anyone else passing by was thinking. This was just about you and Lando.

“I think we should go somewhere.” You say.

He looks at you and he knows.

—

You sat on the ground next to him, the wooden base of the slide had been repainted. He leaned against you. 

Those years which felt magnified because of your unhealed wounds suddenly felt so small. Only there to serve as a point in time to bring both of you closer to each other.

“I found no one. It was lonely out there.” Lando admits, “No one came close, I was always trying to find something new, something fresh, but everything led me back to…”

He fiddles with his necklace.

“You.”

You feel everything coming into place, like the grey skies overlooking your life were finally moving over, letting the sun peek out from behind them. You closed your eyes and looked up into the sky. 

This was it. This was everything. This was all you asked for.

Your recurring nightmare became insignificant. It didn’t scare you anymore.

You shifted yourself so you were lying on the floor, which was probably dirty but it didn’t matter. Lando positioned his head so it was laying on your chest, so he felt the restful rise and fall of your breathing, and you felt… at peace, for once.

“I’ve been waiting...” You say, unable to finish your sentence as your voice cracks.

“And I won’t let you go, ever again.” 

— — —

And he was right. He never let go.

You and Lando spent the weekend, which felt like forever, to fix it. Lando spent it all to fix every scar, heal every wound and nurse every bruise he ever inflicted. He held onto you and never dropped you once, keeping his promise.

Lando took you out the whole weekend, rediscovering your stories, and your childhood. He kept you close, never leaving you. He rewrote the haunting past, making sure he never messed up this time.

The once unfinished chapter that stood high above you, the once daunting task was now closing, the final line was being written in the darkness of the years left alone. The emotional baggage was dropped in the past and the pages of your story stopped burning up. 

Lando was here now.

You brought him out in the evening, taking him to his favourite spot, by the edge of a hill overlooking the city. You sat there with him, holding some Chinese takeout.

“You forgive me?” He asks.

“Yes.” You reply, “I do.”

“I…” Lando hesitates, “Yea… that’s great.” His voice is unusually soft.

“You know…” You inhale and exhale deeply, “I remember the night after I realised you weren’t going to text back.”

Lando stiffens up, “Sorry.” He mutters.

“It’s okay now…” You say before continuing, “I went to the playground and stood there while it rained, and wondered what I did wrong.”

You don’t know whether right now was a good time for this but you started so you had to finish.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” Lando says as he looks into your eyes, “It was all me who messed up.”

You pat his shoulder.

“Yea… but back then, I felt like I didn’t hold onto you enough, didn’t work hard enough for you to stay. So… that was it for me.” You admit, “I wasn’t ready to lose you so I cried that night, alone.”

You feel Lando’s guilt from a mile away.

“But-” You lean backward, supporting yourself with your elbows, “today, when we went to the playground, I think we fixed that.”

Lando’s face brightens up as he lifts his head. He fixed something.

“I think… you…” You couldn’t find the words, “You’re back.”

“I am.” Lando says, “And I’ll fix it all.”

In the night sky, you laid down next to him, on the ground. The hurting stopped, all that stopped today, in that playground where you two grew up, where you went to all those dark days, and where you left all the emotional baggage.

The skies illuminated the sky and reflected off Lando’s eyes. It was beautiful, he was beautiful. Under the bright sky and the night breeze, Lando was at peace with himself. So were you.

You scooted closer to him and he laid his head in your embrace, both of you laid in the grass. And right there was where everything felt alright, like nothing would change again. Just like when they were children.

Just like last time.

“I love you.”

—

The time had to come eventually. You were back at the airport.

You hugged him tightly once again, this moment felt no better than the last. The hug is laced with rewritten years of friendships and the closure of every dark page in your stories, to be happier, to be better. It was for everything and every minute you two lost now filled in with the memories of this weekend. This closure. He sobs on your shoulder, he never wants to let go.

But he has to. Both of you take a step back. 

“If it helps you.” You say, “You fixed it.”

Lando wipes the tears away, giving you one of the purest smiles you think you’ll ever see in your life.

“And for you…” He says, “You’ll always be here.” He points to his heart.

“I’ll never let you hurt again.”

You smile, embracing him again.

As he’s about to leave, you take the necklace off and hand it to him. He look at it, and hastily takes his one off, swapping your necklaces.

“To rewritten love.” You say.

He nods and puts the necklace on. 

“I’ll see you around.” His voice cracks a little.

“Promise?”

He tears up again, “Yes… Yes I promise.”

You look at his sparkly brown-blue eyes again, coming to peace with everything. As he enters the boarding gates, he looks back at you again, smiling slightly at you as he waves. You wave back, holding onto the necklace again.

He walks off, disappearing into the crowd once again but it doesn’t feel empty this time. It’s closure, it’s settlement, it’s resolution. You watch his plane take off, hearing the roar of the engine before it fades into nothing.

It was a promise.

A promise that you would keep, even as you moved out of this city, to another place. A promise that he would keep even as he reached greater heights.

Because a promise was made and a promise will be kept.

END.

i hope this hit expectations, i dont think there will be a part 3 lol