#then again pretty much everything in this movie says more about him than about the people it's supposedly about

[percyjackson-post]

What I think the 7 Heroes of Olympus would be like when they get sick

Annabeth: Tough it out. She is absolutely refusing to admit that she’s sick until she’s got a fever of at least 103. Even then, trying to keep her in bed is pretty much impossible. She’s so confident that the ideas she’s having are groundbreaking, but once she’s better, she realizes that they’re absolute nonsense. 

Percy: Dramatic. He spends most of the time with tears in his eyes buried under a mountain of blankets. He is convinced that he is experiencing the worst pain of his life the entire time. It does not matter if he held up the sky; the headache is apparently worse. He will say the same thing about the coughing 10 minutes later, though. It's best to just turn on a movie and pray it distracts him long enough for the sleep meds to kick in.

Piper: Aggressive. She is absolutely livid about being sick, and it’s extremely common to see her screaming in frustration over how stuffy her nose is. If anyone tries to offer any kind of help, she's snapping on them. Best to just leave her be.

Leo: Taking EVERYTHING. He’s got at least 4 different types of cold meds in him at all times, and he swears he can taste colors. Coincidentally, he is absolutely not allowed anywhere near the infirmary. Somehow that precaution still wasn’t enough, and now he has a babysitter assigned to him for the entire time.

Jason: Sick? He’s actually in a constant state of being sick and doesn’t seem to recognize that fact he’s sick. Body chills, headache, and nausea are a part of his daily life to the point he doesn’t even notice a difference. He and Nico aren’t allowed to be near each other when they’re sick because all they do is reaffirm the other that their symptoms are normal.

Hazel: Checked out. There is absolutely no use in trying to hold a conversation with her because she isn’t listening to a word. She goes through the whole thing with a dazed look on her face, and any time you try to talk to her, she blinks and stares at you like she’s loading a response. 

Frank: Asleep. The moment he realizes he’s sick, he’s out like a light. He’s only waking up for soup and Gatorade, and then he’s back to bed again. It’s extremely effective, though, and he’s never sick for more than 48 hours.

[alpaca-clouds]

How Media Taught Us a Wrong Image of Fascism

Okay, I have seen during the last two or three weeks a couple of posts of the argument going back and forth: "Is this fascism already? Or isn't it fascism? Isn't fascism when there is like people marching with weapons and what not?"

To which I say: No, the people who says this, what you see in America right now, is fascism. Let me tell you as a German. We have... a bit of history with this topic.

But I also can tell you why you kinda have expected some soldiers marching into your capital. And the reason is simple - but also complicated.

Are you ready?

Am I saying it is because of Star Wars? No. It is because of media in general.

See. Here is the thing: Even us here in Germany, we do not learn the real history of the Nazis and the Third Reich. Because... Well, people kinda have an issue confronting one aspect of it: The aspect of where the Nazis were put into power by democratic election. They won the election. They just then made sure that there would no longer be more elections. Something your parliament is working, too.

But there is another thing that kinda gets lost, because in some way we mythologize the Nazis way too much. And I mean, I get it. They are pretty recent, and what they did was so unambigiously evil, that they just make for really good villains in media. But... See, there is an aspect of this, that also gets lost.

Hitler was actually not that "great" in a lot of aspects. And with that I do not mean that he was an angry, evil goblin, I mean that he was also not a good politician, and not good tactician.

But there was one thing he was good at: Aethetics. I mean, what do you expect? He was an artist. And he loved cinema. Which translated into him having a very good understanding of how to construct propaganda.

When you think of the Third Reich, you will probably think of that Propaganda, and nothing else. Because yes, it looks visually stunning. Which is also the reason, why again and again we see that same visual language used in media to signify the bad guys in it.

But this gives us a problem: Our first thought when we hear "fascism" is this aesthetic, rather than any content.

Yeah, here we are again. My good old enemy: How we humans often hang onto aesthetics over the contents. And it is a big issue in this regard.

At the same time it also paints over one other thing: The fact that the Nazis were a bunch of fucking weird little losers.

You know, in 2019, when Jojo Rabbit came out, a lot of people were outraged about the fact that the movie made light of the Nazis. But the fact is: Yes, you should do that. You should make fun of them. Because they are insecure little losers with delusions of grandure. Especially as the movie did it right: It made fun of the Nazis, but not of the horrors committed. This is the right way to deal with it.

Especially as the movie also makes very correct fun of the propaganda. See, in the movie there are some really weird lines. Both of the anti-semitic propaganda, and the pro-Hitler propaganda. Stuff where Jews are described basically like some sort of DnD monster, while Hitler is described as some sort of superhero. But pretty much every one of those lines is actually taken out of actual propaganda. Yes, they were stupid like that.

If you compare Hitler and the Trump-Musk tag team... It is actually really, really similar. They are about as incompetent. Just as they have sadly about the same amount of flat out luck. (See: surviving assassination attempts.)

It is just that we do not talk about how fucking stupid Hitler was anymore. Because that in turn makes everyone else look even dumber. Both the other contries that have allowed that stuff to happen for so long, and then almost lost - and the people who actually voted for that moron and went along with everything without fighting back.

I will leave you with this good old clip from Horrible Histories.

[booksandabeer]

Okay, so... Maestro

I know it’s the cool thing right now to shit on Bradley Cooper and his increasingly desperate attempts to win that damn Oscar, and at this point it feels a bit like kicking someone when they’re already down, but oh boy, he makes it so easy. Still, let me preface what I’m about to say by assuring everyone who might be inclined to think that this is just me piling on, that I truly, sincerely wanted to like this movie. It’s about Leonard Bernstein!!! Of course I wanted to like it!  

With that out of the way…if you already thought Bradley Cooper was a bit much in A Star Is Born, wait until you’ve seen him act at you for two hours in this never-truer-to-its-name vanity project in which producer Bradley Cooper produces director Bradley Cooper who directs leading man Bradley Cooper as he recites lines written by, you guessed it, screenwriter Bradley Cooper.

First of all, the movie looks gorgeous. It sounds wonderful. Everybody in the so-called “below the line” departments brought their absolute A-game to this. It’s a Vogue coffee table book come to life. And that is precisely where the problem lies: This is supposed to be a movie, but what it actually is is the epitome of style over substance. It is completely devoid of any meaningful insights into the man or the time or the culture it depicts. It’s not a movie about Leonard Bernstein, the artist. Which isn’t a problem per se—different approaches to biopics are perfectly valid. The real problem is that it’s not a movie about Leonard Bernstein, the man, either. It’s Bradley Cooper spending almost 100 million dollars cosplaying as The Great Artist—beloved by intellectuals and the common folk alike—that he so desperately wishes to be himself.

Cooper's performance is A LOT. From the many affectations to the sweaty mania that is constantly turned up to 11 to the extremely nasal intonation (that seems to come and go) to, yes, the stupid and entirely unnecessary prosthetic nose—he does The Most in every single scene. Now, you might say I’m biased by my recent love for Fellow Travelers, but still, what Matt Bomer—in a small part as Bernstein’s lover and collaborator David Oppenheim—does in one scene that shows him smiling through the pain of being casually cast aside by his lover, moved me more than (almost) anything Cooper does in the entire movie. They also share a moment later that is almost unbearable to watch because of the pain seeping out of these two men who are, due to a mix of self-denial and societal oppression, not allowed to (or allowing themselves to) live life as their true selves. Finally! Some real human emotion! That is the movie I want to see. And it is so telling that this moment of actual tangible humanity happens when Cooper finally calms down for five fucking seconds.

All that isn’t to say that there aren’t any scenes here that have true charm and flair; at times the movie even comes close to moments of true beauty and grace that could be poignant, even devastating in the best of ways—were they not ruined by some “eccentric” directorial choice, baffling camera placements, shots that either linger on forever or are abruptly cut short. I was practically waiting for him to turn to the camera and ask “see what I did there?” Yes, we see it. We see it in the fantastical dance sequences, the 40s noir inspired shots, the shift from black and white to color halfway through the movie, the classic 4:3 aspect ratio, and the many many many allusions that do not serve this story and these characters at all but make it very clear to the audience that Cooper has seen a lot of movies. He’s a student of Cinemah, didn't you know? Anyway, all of these things aren’t bad ideas in and of themselves, but he does not know how to edit himself (or his movie) and so it’s just all too much, all the time, and it goes on for way too long.  

Let’s talk briefly about the Felicia of it all. Briefly, because for all the noise that Cooper has made about this being a movie that is just as much about Bernstein’s wife and their love story as it is about the man himself, I could not tell you who this woman was any more than I could before I sat down to watch two hours of Carey Mulligan reacting to Bernstein’s genius. Mulligan tries her best but she’s really only allowed to play two modes: swooning with adoration or vibrating with repressed anger. That’s it. I have no idea who Felicia Montealegre was beyond her husband’s wife. What did she want her life and her career to be? Was she truly passionate about acting or was it just a fun hobby to pass the time? And what did she hope to get out of this marriage, which—the movie makes it very clear—she entered into with the full awareness that there were parts of her husband’s life and heart that would remain forever inaccessible to her? Who knows. I certainly don’t.

Despite all claims to the contrary, this movie, and therefore I must assume the man who made it, is deeply uninterested in actually exploring this woman’s inner life. There’s no small amount of sad irony to be found in the parallel of Felicia serving as a shield of respectability for Bernstein (not only as that, because I do not doubt that they loved each other, but it was certainly one of the reasons for why he married her) and Cooper using his supposed interest in her (and to a lesser extent his lead actress) all these years later as a kind of preemptive measure to ward off criticism that he’s only interested in the Male Genius.  

Finally. What’s actually worse than all of the above is that somehow Bradley Cooper managed to do the impossible: He made a movie about Leonard Bernstein that is both utterly exhausting and—the true cardinal sin—terribly boring.  

[madamechrissy]

Would you come with me?

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x F! reader

Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?

CW: NSFT-MDNI- So much mutual pining and longing, not sharing feelings. This chap- kissing, fingering, masturbation, lots of jealousyy, they're idiots in love lol, teasing, TENSION, oral (f recieving) Satoru is a lil sweetie and a lil freaky ass- falls hard, ya'll both down bad. Three parts- WC this Part- 7.6k

Songs for this - Birds of a Feather // Nonsense // Suffocate

Ty for all the love on part one!?!? I hope you all enjoy this part as well! We got one more after this <3 Comments and reblogs so appreciated always!

<<<Part One - Masterlist - Final Part>>>

Part Two

One month of being ‘fake married’ to Satoru Gojo, your best friend.

“I’m nervous about this meeting, Satoru. Are you sure I’ll do alright?” You ask softly, as you both head to the elevator, a meeting that you know Satoru has been dreading himself, with the higher ups his dad usually deals with.

“You’ll do just fine, let me do the talking, you can just look all pretty.” He takes your hand as you all get into the elevator, squeezing it warmly, and you’re dying at how good that hand feels, and how good he feels, his strong arm brushing against you as you both watch the elevator doors shut.

“I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“You could never. You’ve been a perfect wife this month, I promise.” His sweet grin, just a little crooked melts you, as you exhale in relief. “I’m getting a lot done with this, I swear… I know you probably wanna get back to normal life.”

The hurt in his words immediately makes you pull back, and Satoru curses himself, taking your hand again, as you two ride up the floors, but you pull away, shaking your head. “Are you so eager for me to go?” Your voice is quiet, trying not to reveal what that makes you feel like fully.

“What!? No, not at all. I meant… if you wanted to.” Satoru’s heart breaks when he sees your dewy eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way, I meant it may not take a year, if you wanted to…”

“I’m glad it’s helping, really.” You give him a small little smile, and Satoru can barely concentrate on what he’s here for, when he wants to wrap you in his arms, to kiss you fully, not just pecks for appearances.

And god those kisses to prove you’re together make the lines blur, makes everything so confusing and jumbled for him. He’s having so much trouble remembering that it’s for show, when you all watch movies at night still, when you both have dinner together, when you’re washing dishes side by side. When you’re having coffee on his balcony in the morning.

The one thing that keeps it ‘fake’ is the separate rooms, but the amount of times Satoru has played with himself in the room next to yours has gotten insane, the number of showers he has to take so he hopes you won’t hear him. Lately, he’s backed off just a bit, for his own sanity, so it hurts less when this is over.

“Toru, wanna watch the show tonight?” You ask, wearing one of his big tee shirts, it swamps you completely, tempting him to no end, thinking of slipping it up just so…

Shit.

“Nah, sorry not tonight. I’ve got work to do.” He says, hating the little down turn of your lips.

“How late, I can wait!”

“Um… yeah I wouldn’t wait up.” You blink then, wondering have you gotten too comfortable with him? Have you been acting too much like a wife at home? You can’t help but enjoy him, enjoy your time together, are you overwhelming him with it all?

“Oh. Um, okay. Good night, then.” You smile sadly, aching to kiss him good night, knowing you shouldn’t want it, knowing you shouldn’t be desiring him right next to you, snuggling on that couch. God you’d love him in your bed even, holding you so close against him.

“Good night, sweets.” He murmurs, softly, not wanting you to think that you were the problem, no the problem is him.

He can’t stop picturing how every corner and nook in his huge home will be so very empty when you’re gone.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, not one thing, I swear you’re playing this perfectly. And I really appreciate you, yeah?” He says, but it’s not what you want to hear, because you’re not playing, not really, it’s just too fucking easy.

“Yeah, we got this.” You kiss his cheek softly, the friendly way you used to, as you all walk through the sliding doors where everyone is, all old men aside from a couple younger people scattered in seats in a row.

You tense, so he squeezes your hand, smiling at you, an upturn to pink lips as a room full of old money assesses you both, trying to reassure you. “Mr. and Mrs. Gojo, please have a seat.”

You nervously sit next to Satoru across from them now, your legs crossing as he casually leans back, one arm around the back of your seat, an ankle crossed over his knee, sunglasses right on his face. He’s so at ease, or so it seems, you are certainly learning more and more that Satoru tends to hide much of his anxiety with cracking jokes and sarcasm.

“Ah, the oldies, how goes it?”

“Ahem, oldies?” A blonde man raises a brow, and Satoru scoffs.

“You might as well be, Zenin. Old ass mentality.”

“Satoru, how is your father?” Asks an older man from another high company that works with the Gojos, Mr. Gakuganji.

“Ya really hoping he pulls through hmm? Even if so, he’s already appointed me, so don’t get too excited.” Satoru has an easy grin, fingertips brushing against your bare arm, leaning closer to you. “You’ve all met the wife?”

“Not all of us.” A pretty woman with long blue braids smiles at you. “Heard of her though, hello Mrs. Gojo. Mei Mei. Apparently so old.”

“Hello Mei Mei.” You greet with a small smile, looking at them all. “It’s going to be a pleasure to work with you all, I am sure.”

“Isn’t she just charming?” Mr. Naoya Zenin says, you feel Gojo’s fingers tighten in response.

“She is lovely.” Mei agrees, predatory smiles on both of their lips.

“Enough with the greetings, Gojo, you've made a lot of changes to this company in a quick manner.” Now Yaga, a tall imposing man that owns much of the shares of the company, speaks.

“Sure have, Yaga. Aw, mad you all got pay cuts? Poor things. Don’t worry, gave your extra to the employees.” Gojo says with a big white grin, earning the glares of everyone in the room.

“You’re not some Robin Hood.” An older man of the Kamo family says, raising a brow at Gojo, who chuckles.

“No, sure am not, I’m still rich and so are you all, just a little more evened out, wouldn’t you say, sweetheart?” He looks to you, tilting down his glasses, and you take a breath, putting a hand on his thigh, silently supporting him.

“Employees are going to work harder and stay longer with better pay and better conditions, and cutting just a bit off the top accomplishes that.” You say, voice strong and clear as a bell, making Satoru so proud he can’t stand it, smiling big at you as the room collectively grumbles.

“You’re not the only one with interest in this company. What does your father think of this?” One of the older men asks.

“It’s my company already, it’s about to be official soon. So don’t worry.” Satoru says with ease. “Also, my wife was talking.”

“Your wife is certainly… hmm, very pretty, but a commoner.” Naoya says, earning Gojo standing up, chair screeching back.

“The fuck you say!?”

“Satoru…” You lean forward, touching his arm, looking at his furious stance as the room shifts.

“How is she a commoner? You’d be lucky to lick the ground she fucking walks on ya know that?”

“She’s clearly not a commoner, but… she’s not “rich" is what he means. She has no concept of wealth.” Mei says, and Naoya stands now as well, glaring right over at Satoru.

 “She’s rich now, she’s my fucking wife.” The words feel so real from his infuriated voice that you can’t even separate it anymore, if this is some act you will just play right into it, even if it hurts. Him defending you is raw, you feel his fury next to him, trying to calm him and failing.

“It’s fine, baby.” You murmur, and hearing it, this little pet name from you? He immediately looks down, seeing your eyes wide with worry, he sighs now, sitting next to you, exhaling when you brush a hand up and down his back, then you look at the room. “I was not rich, no.”

“Your family was cut off for this sort of behavior. Is that what you want again, want for your children?” Mr. Gakuganji asks, a tired voice breaking through.

“I know better than anyone in this room what it’s like to live on a normal, even low income. Would you not welcome the insight, or are you so above caring about the people who line your pockets?” You demand softly, raising a brow, Satoru watches now as you proceed to wreck them.

He watches you debate them, raising each of them this point and that, and watches them all falter under a pretty little thing like you, usually soft spoken and sweet, but you have no problem decimating a room of them like it’s nothing. You smile so pretty at them all, bat your lashes and they land argument after argument, bouncing off what Gojo says.

Gojo is chuckling after about twenty minutes, as they seem to really think he couldn’t fuck them all if he felt like it. “What you’re forgetting, is I’m the highest up there is here.”

“Your father-”

“My father trusts me to take over. Plain and simple, are there going to be any problems? Millions not enough for you all, need golden toilets for your asses?” You barely hold in the snort of laughter, eyes bright as you watch him continue to disgruntle the room, until they finally let up.

Naoya walks up to you, eyeing you up and down as Satoru is talking to Yaga, who seems to be one of the more laid back of them all, his hands in his pockets, light brown eyes lit up. You tense at his gaze, feeling it like a slimy, disgusting touch, making you almost sick. You’re trembling as his eyes dissect you.

“Conveniently, he gets a bride the moment everyone pushes him.” He says with a nasty smirk, brushing a tendril of your hair back. “Don’t buy it.”

“Well, we’ve been in love forever, I assure you.” You say quietly, he hums to himself, when Mei walks over, and damn this woman just saunters, truly, hands on her curved hips.

“It’s so odd indeed, out of a list of so many eligible ladies. Was it true love, I wonder?” She taps her chin curiously, Satoru sees you then, coming by your side immediately, and arm around your waist.

Is he being a protective best friend or…

More.

Is this all just for show, as he pulls you to his side so possessively, making your pulse race, your body reacting as you look up at his face, and he’s scowling at the both of them. “Everything alright, sweets?”

“Yes, they were wishing us the best, weren’t you both?” You say, earning Naoya’s glare and Mei’s smirk.

“Indeed we were, we’ll see you at the auction I imagine?” Mei says, eyeing Satoru now.

“We’ll be there, of course. But for now, hmm…” He tilts your chin up, kissing you in a room full of people who want to hurt him, and hurt you, a protectiveness he’s always had for you becoming so intense it’s hard for him to function, he’d literally take down anyone and everyone that would dare say one thing to you even.

Your lips are sweet, so sweet, as you lean up and kiss him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and that same electricity sparks, even with all their seedy eyes on the two of you. He pulls back, looking at your lips, as you look into his eyes, already dilated and dark, when he clears his throat, smirking up at the shocked gazes.

“Are we all done here?” He asks, and then proceeds to take you out of that room, you finally catch a breath in the elevator, and Satoru grins at you, cupping your face with his big hands, bending down.

“Holy shit.” You murmur, earning his chuckle.

“You were amazing! How dumb am I telling you - look pretty and let me talk- shit I think it was the opposite?”

“No way…”

“Yes way. That was sexy.” He hums, you’re both giggling a bit, but you’re close, too close, and his thumb is brushing your lower lip, sending desire straight through to your tummy.

“I thought you were mad at me.” You whisper then, earning his smile turning down at the corners, his eyes a little distant and hazy.

“I could never be.”

The elevator doors open, the two of you walk out of the sliding glass doors of the enormous building, and you are trying not to touch the lips he just had, trying not to think of just how good they felt. The driver pulls up and you get into the car, Satoru slides in next to you, far too close, you inhale his cologne, you still taste him on your lips, like torture.

“I’m not mad at you.” He says again, you blink a bit, taking a breath, before looking up at him as the car drives onto the highway, gently moving underneath you both.

“You turned down movies for days. You won’t eat dinner with me. I get you’re busy, I really do, but I enjoy it, spending time. I’m… lonely without you? I know that sounds so silly, I’m sorry. Shit.” You cover your face, hating the pathetic words spilling from your lips. “You’re probably sick of all this time, even as a best friend.”

That’s not it.

God that’s not it.

It’s just when he’s next to you all he can think of is fucking you, or making you cum all over his mouth, his fingers. He can’t stand how good you smell, how good you feel, he melts over your pretty smiles and giggles, he can’t stand how deeply he is starting to feel. The three times you all have kissed for publicity it took everything in him not to drag you home.

How does he just shut it off, the ability to kiss you when he wants? And now you’re lonely, you’re hurting, not even able to look at him when he gently pulls down your hands by your wrists. “Look at me.” He murmurs softly.

You do then, and he sees it, tears swimming. “Sorry I’m too emotional.” You whisper then, embarrassed.

“No, I’m being an ass.”

You let out a little laugh. “No, Satoru just distant, and I didn’t know if I fucked something up, the day in your office?”

“No, no. Please, I swear it’s not that… I’ve been in my head.” He mutters, unable to express it truly.

“I get it, you have a lot going on. I want to be here for you.”

“You are.” He’s brushing your hair back softly, leaning down, resting his head against yours, it’s too intimate then, the words on the tip of your tongue, that you feel more than you should, but you try to swallow them. “You’re amazing, you made them all look so stupid.”

“No…”

“Yes. You surprised me, I never have seen you like that.”

“Sexy, you said hmm.” You tease, but he’s serious then, as your breaths mingle, and he’s leaning even closer, wreaking havoc on your every sense.

“God yes, you’re sexy like that.”

“Satoru… it’s too much.” You whisper, as his hand rests on your thigh, and he feels it, how hot you are, earning his eyes shutting, trying to not let it affect him and failing. “I haven’t… I’m really…”

“Been a while, sweetheart?”

“Oh fuck you.” You don’t move his hand when he slips it up higher, in fact your thighs spread just a bit, his little moan making more wetness start to drool from your aching pussy.

“I take up all your time, you can’t date, why not let me take care of you?” He acts as if he can handle anyone ever touching you, the thought alone makes him feral, want to fucking claim you as his own, to devour you senseless. He tries to be teasing, casual, watching your breath catch, your pupils dilate.

“Wh-what!?” Your lips part, and his desperate blue gaze is so intense it’s hard to look at.

“Let me make you cum, sweetheart, hmm? It’s the least I can do, I’m taking up all of you, I am sure it’s been a bit.” You gulp nervously. “You’re not a…”

“No, no, not a virgin Toru, just I didn’t like it.” You admit softly.

“At all?” He whispers, frowning just a bit, before he feels your inner thigh with his thumb, finding you hot and sticky, making you gasp. “Who sucked that bad?”

“You don’t know him. But I didn’t like getting…”

“Fingered?”

“That, not at all, um the times it happened were uncomfortable. So don’t try, it won't work.” Satoru laughs then softly, shaking his head.

“I’ve never had that problem. And I would never hurt you.” His words are serious then, you gulp nervously.

“I know you wouldn’t. But it’s intimate, and it’s not for show.” Your hand clutches his blazer now, thick material in your palm when he finally touches you over your panties, making you cry out at the contact, his cock throbs in response.

“Let me just take care of you, make you feel s’good, hmm? Don’t think too much about it, just feel.” He presses kisses down the side of your neck, your free hand wraps the back of his neck, brushing over his undercut, the soft hair under your fingers like silk, when he presses his fingers over your clothed clit. “You like that, pretty?”

“Y-yes.” You manage, his lips kiss and then suck at the base of your throat, when his finger slips under your panties, finding you bare, soaked, your cry is louder, when he finds your engorged little clit, feels you slippery against his long fingers.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He huffs, free hand slipping up the side of your breast while he rolls his finger in little circles, and your hips jerk, your head falling back. “She’s begging f’me to put one in.”

“You c-can try, but- ah!” Satoru sinks a long finger in you, pressing up, and you’re blinded when he finds your spot so effortlessly, leaning back to look down at your face, as it scrunches up in pleasure. “Ngh!”

“There it is, some loser couldn’t find it hmm? I’ve got you, don’t worry.” He’s pressing up again and again, the spongy spot in your gummy walls, gripping him so fucking tight. You hear it, the lewd sound of your squishing cunt, your eyes rolling back in your skull as he works you. “Let go, trust me.”

“It’s too much I… T-Toru…” You whisper his name, while moaning, your mouth open in this perfect O, it makes him leak precum, sticking to his boxers as your thighs spread for him, as you trust him, your eyes lidded. “More.”

“More?” He repeats, speechless for a moment as you’re leaning forward, your lips just a breath away.

“Please, it’s s’good Toru.” Your little plea destroys the last fighting brain cell he has, he’s slipping one more in you, making you pulse around the thick invasion, curling them up and sinking them inside you, to the knuckle, while you moan against his lips. “F-fuck… oh my god what…”

“That’s it, fuckin’ feel her, grippin’ me.” He’s fucking his fingers into you, wishing they were his cock, and you’re soaking his hand, your cunt drooling when he shoves them in deep, thumb pression on your clit, making you shatter. “There you go, sweetheart, that’s it, s’pretty like this.”

You’re cumming all over your best friend/fake husband’s talented fingers, nearly crying at how good the release feels, pulsing all around him, hands clinging to his jacket, hopelessly wrinkling the material, all while he watches you. Your mind goes blank, pleasure is the only thing you can focus on, as he eases his strokes, and you both are panting in the quiet car.

Satoru eases his fingers out, putting them to his lips and sucking now, moaning when he tastes you, and your mouth drops in shock. “T-Toru…”

“Fuck.” He’s kissing you then, your slick all over his lips as he presses your back against the seat, and your thighs shake, sensitive from cumming so hard, you can barely focus on anything but your throbbing pussy.

“Please.” You whisper again, as he yanks his cock out, right in the back of the car, and you reach down, stroking it, his eyes shut as he whimpers, Satoru Gojo whimpers, over you touching his pretty pink tip, swirling that precum.

“Wanna taste you first.” He huffs, kissing down your throat when the car comes to a halt, yanking at your dress, pressing hungry kisses on your breasts.

“What are we… Toru what’re we d-doing, fuck!” You’re whining out when he’s biting at your nipple over your bra, your hands yank on his hair, hips arching, feeling his length on your inner thigh.

“M’gonna-”

“Mr. Gojo, we’re here.” His driver infuriates him now, Satoru leans up, breaths heavy as he’s leaned over you, looking at your already fucked out eyes.

“We almost… we… y-you…” You are stuttering, suddenly so nervous, so overwhelmed. “Is this just you helping me out? Is it-”

“Mr. Gojo-”

“Ijichi, I’ll fucking kill you.” He mutters angrily, quieting his driver quickly, as he adjusts himself and then you, and you’re sitting up, blushing as he fixes your panties, fingers covered still in your slick. He sucks them again further making your tummy flutter, tighten, your heart pounding out of your chest. “God you taste yummy, the fuck, how does someone taste this good.”

“You tasted me? Twice!?” He smirks now, easing you to sit, tilting up your chin now.

“Not fully.”

“Fully!? Is this what friends do?”

“Well I sure don’t want you doing this with anyone else.” He glares now, jaw locking, making you gasp.

“What now?”

“No one else can do that to you.” His lips gently kiss yours, you taste yourself on them again, but you shove at him now, glaring.

“What do you even mean, no one else? You think you have some freakish claim on me now?”

“I know you came so hard you soaked my fucking backseats, hmm?” He whispers, you roll your eyes now, eagerly getting out of the car.

“You’re insane, Satoru.”

“You clearly like it.” You scoff, body shaking, legs literally wobbly, you try to ignore them as you stride up to the front of Satoru’s fancy doors, and walk in quickly, as he follows you with long strides, calling your name.

“That was fingering as a friend!?”

“No… it was…” He wants to say it then, you’re literally his fucking wife, even if it’s pretend, he can’t think of anything he wants more than you, to be inside you.

“Almost fucked me as a friend? Satoru, I can't do that.”

“I know, I didn’t… I just…” You’re turning away, if you look into those blue eyes too long you won’t be able to breathe, to exist, every inch of your body dying for more. “You loved it.”

You scowl as he smirks. “You’re a conceited little shit, just like when we met! Swear to god.”

“You’re still shaking.” He says, eyes raking over you, you gasp.

“You know what? Fuck you.”

“If you want to, say the word.” He murmurs, leaning against your doorway, and you roll your eyes.

“No way, I’m going to bed early. Good night.” You shut the door right in his face, sliding down it, head in your hands.

What the heck even was that.

Five weeks of being ‘fake married’ to your best friend, Satoru Gojo

Satoru and you were barely talking this entire week, you’re so furious with his cocky, conceited attitude, and the fact that he’s entirely right. Nothing felt that good, no one felt like just his fingers had, how he found you, how he looked at you. Now for the past week every night you’ve done the one thing you said you wouldn’t do.

Touch yourself to the memory.

You’re rolling your fingers on your clit, whining his name in a breathy whisper the morning of the charity auction, covering your mouth with your free hand as you realize that you’ve done it, that you’ve said his name, all while cumming all over your little fingers, which don’t even come close to his, lengthy and thick, the rough pads of his thumbs.

And you could fuck him, you know you could, but you also know what it will mean, there is no friends after that, kissing alone has made things impossible for you both. And Satoru is doing the most amazing things, you’re so proud of him already, and don’t ever want to lose him. But now he’s in your head, making you absolutely insane with want, with need, with desire.

Now you can’t even think of him without picturing his cheeks hollowing as he sucked your wetness off, picturing his head between your thighs, things you shouldn’t, and it’s like he knows. He smirks at you just so, lazy lidded eyes draping down your frame every morning, every night, making sure to constantly have a hand on you in public.

He was making you lose it, and he knew it.

Your stupid little fingers can’t do shit, in fact they frustrate you more, but it’d be a cold day in hell before you ask him for any help. In fact you realize the game he plays when he walks around in his boxers, when he does push ups in the middle of the living room with one arm, like he’s showing off, smirking when he catches you watching him, in your moments of weakness.

It would be so easy to fall into his bed, but to think of ruining your friendship terrified you, to think of the feelings you know would be unleashed like some fucking flood gate was too much. You never have been able to be casual, you’re not even interested in someone without feelings, and you’re slowly realizing that those feelings when you were younger never went away.

They’re just more intense now, living with him, with this unspoken tension in the air, every breath you take you can practically taste him, every time you watch his fingers slipping around the rim of his cup you remember them in you. As you see the clear bulge in his boxers you remember touching him, remember wanting to taste that precum on his tip.

The worst part is he looks so knowingly at you, so sure you’d probably beg for him, you’re sure many, many women do. But despite knowing Satoru to be a bit of a ladies man, you’ve not seen a single one here since you’ve lived here, not seen him go on a single date. You’re not sure if you could handle it, despite acting so very nonchalant about it.

But you have no claim over him, this was just convenience, every bit of the arrangement. Your new car, no more debt, helping Satoru do what he needed to, you all are a perfect team even with the added tension of your pussy constantly throbbing around said best friend. Surely it wasn’t worth ruining, complicating, just to feel that pleasure he brings.

As you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you nervously step out of the room, into Gojo’s spacious foyer, where he’s turned around, a dark blue suit adorning his body like a glove. He hears your heels click on the marble floor below and turns, his lips parting as he studies you.

The red dress hugs every line and curve of your pretty body, the bold shade making your skin pop so pretty, it looks so smooth he aches to caress you, every bit of you. You are biting your lower lip nervously, looking up at him from across the room as you stand there, looking so beautiful his pulse races.

This week has been torture for Satoru, he wants to tell you then, that he feels so much more than he even knows how to convey, that it wasn’t just ‘getting a friend off’ it was such a joke, he can’t even understand how you believe that. He can’t get the sweetness of your pussy off his goddamn mind, he’d do just about anything to taste it again.

He’s even eyed your panties in the hamper. He's so pathetic and desperate for you, but he’s tried to keep some semblance of composure, to act unbothered, so scared to ruin your relationship. He knows how much you sacrificed just coming here, sure he’s helping you, but you uprooted everything, you acted perfect at every function, you stood up for him at every meeting.

You are the perfect wife.

Pretend wife.

Pretend, pretend, pretend.

He keeps repeating it like a mantra in his head, brushing off the moment in the back of the car as maybe you just needed to cum, maybe it was just that for you, but something about how your eyes met his, has him desperately pumping his cock, hearing your soft whimpers at night. He knows you’re touching yourself, he wishes he could see it, watch it, take over.

Instead he’s stuck endlessly jerking it to his best friend/fake wife, ignoring any girl that even texts him because they just aren’t you. They could care less he’s ‘married’ everyone just wants a piece of him, everyone but you. You just are there for him, with him, by his side, you’d have done this for nothing in return. You’re becoming everything to him so fast it’s terrifying.

The magnification of feelings he’s had for you over so many years is overwhelming, being near you, smelling your sweet scent, hearing you hum as you cook with your earbuds in, your nervous habits. How you twirl your hair, how you tilt your head, how you tremble just a bit when he holds you for the cameras, how you sigh sweetly as he kisses you for show.

You can’t fake that, he knows you’re affected too.

But he doesn’t know if it’s what he feels for you.

He’s stammering like a teenager at prom, but prom pales in comparison to seeing you now, how the diamonds glitter off your neck and delicate wrists, how he can picture fucking you with just that on. Your cheeks are decorated with that pretty color as you handle his wordless scrutiny, teeth releasing your lip when he comes closer, he brushes a thumb across the indentations left.

You gasp, eyes shooting up to his, as the electric current of his touch rocks through you. “You always bite it, stop. Gonna hurt it.” He says, voice husky, eyes hungry as he looms over you in the quiet, elegant room.

“Do I always?” You whisper, and he nods, brushing his thumb over it again, as if to soothe it.

“Mmhmm, gonna cut up such pretty lips.” His voice drops another octave as one of your hand grips his wrist, and you ache for him to kiss you, to press you against one of these cream colored walls and pound into you.

Stop that!?

You clear your throat, taking a breath and then plastering on a little smile. “You look handsome tonight, blue is your color.”

“Red is yours, clearly.” He brushes a bit of hair back off your bare shoulders, two fingers gently running down the strap, watching the network of goosebumps spread, your heart is racing at the contact. Your urge to yank him by his skinny black tie and slam his lips to yours tempts you to no end.

“Thank you for this dress, and the jewelry. Stop getting me more.” Your little glare just makes him grin.

“At the auction you can get whatever you want, so you know.”

“No way, it’ll all be overpriced.”

“It’s charity, baby. Hmm, should we practice kissing more?” He asks, and you smack his hand away, glaring as he chuckles.

“We’ve had lots of practice, let’s go.”

You all are arm in arm as the cameras flash so brightly later that night when you both step out of the car, so much so they hurt your head, but you hold onto Gojo’s arm, as he guides you through, grinning and answering every question effortlessly. “Why the shades at night, Mr. Gojo?”

“Your bright ass cameras hurt my pretty baby blues.” He teases with a pout, earning the laughter there.

“And what’s this talk of major changes in the Gojo corporation?” Another reporter asks, Satoru chuckles then.

“Ah, well these old geezers needed some revamping is all. Right, pookie?” He asks you, and you smile up at him, then at the cameras.

“Satoru knows what’s best for the company and his employees, his changes are going to only make everyone more profitable.” Satoru watches you answer their questions left and right, enamored more and more by you.

“Are you trying for a baby, Mrs. Gojo?” Someone asks then, and you heat up at the question, at the image that flashes in your head.

Gojo breeding you.

So vivid you feel like you’re there, him murmuring a ‘let me fill you, sweetheart, have you so full of my babies’ and pumping over you. You almost faint it’s so real, and you have no clue what has come over you. You don’t think like that!? You’ve never done shit like that… you…

“We’re enjoying each other a lot right now, but it’ll happen I’m sure, when we’re ready. We’re a little consumed with each other.” Satoru answers now, breaking through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you look up at him, lips parted, as he completely saves you, you’ve frozen on the spot. “Right sweetheart?”

“Right.” You clear your throat, shaking your head then. “We are very much in love, and enjoying our alone time, but we’d both love a baby.” You say, and you hate how real it is.

He hates how he can picture you now, full mating press, as he fucks one load of cum into your pussy, and then another, watching it all pool out. Fuck he’d watch your tummy get so full of him. The thoughts of getting you pregnant make him feral then, he can hardly stand there as he just stares at you, and you at him.

You don’t get your best friend/fake wife pregnant.

Do you?

The auction continues, fancy and expensive items for filthy rich people, Gojo detests it more than even you do, though you’d never know with how he plays the room. You see Mei and Naoya again, laughing about something in this creepy way that makes you shiver. When Gojo is mingling while you're having a seat, you see a pretty brunette girl talking to him closely.

Why does it make you feel so sick to see him, you don’t know. You’ve watched him date, and he’s watched you, but something about living with him, about this enormous glinting rock on your finger really messes with you. His grin glinting under glittering chandeliers of this enormous auction room, another woman coming up, surely he runs in their circles.

You try not to focus on that, it’s not as if you have given Gojo a hint that you want more, and do you? Do you want to cross that line? If something doesn’t work, it’s not a fight between friends, it’s the end of everything, and isn’t having Gojo with you somewhat better than not at all?

“You look like you hate this, huh doll?” You hear then, looking up to see a dark haired man, grinning down at you, he’s handsome in a rugged way, not pretty like Satoru, but something appealing. A scar on his lip as he chuckles, gesturing around you both. “Bunch of rich assholes, huh?”

“Shh!” You giggle though, looking around, nodding.

“Knew it.”

“So what’re you doing here?” You ask quietly, he grimaces, running a hand through inky locks.

“Got a fuckin job to do, what about you?” You gesture to Satoru then, who’s glaring right at you both.

“I’m married to Gojo.”

“Ah shit, I’m too late.” You blush a bit at the attention, Satoru has a girl who’s far too close, whispering in his ear, her hand on his shoulder, making you sick.

“Hmm.” Is all you manage, looking back up at the man. “What is your name?”

“Toji Zenin. Yeah, I know, the name… but fuck them.”

“You are different.” You murmur softly, tilting your head to the side, he brushes his fingers then across your thigh subtly, your jaw clenches a bit.

“If I was with you I sure wouldn’t be over there with snobby bitches.” He says, and you don’t like it then, the jealousy in your heart as Gojo walks up suddenly, clearing his throat.

“Zenin.” He mutters, and he grins up at Gojo.

“Talking to your wife, Gojo, keeping her company y’know? Shouldn’t leave such a pretty thing so lonely.”

“You’re. In. My. Seat.” Satoru mutters, teeth clenched together, and Toji laughs with ease, taking your hand, planting a kiss on the back of it with a wink.

“See ya around, doll.” He says, patting Gojo on the shoulder, and Satoru wants to rip his fucking arm off then, as he glares down at you, sitting in the seat, but you cross your arms, looking away.

“Did he touch you?” He demands quietly, you frown then.

“He was nice, I mean he-”

“Nice!? Looked like he wanted to eat you.”

“What do you care, looks like they were all over you. Oh look, they miss you, go say hi.” You say, as three girls giggle and point over at Satoru, his blue eyes narrow, leaning over you then, cupping your face with his hand.

“Think I wanted to be bombarded by flirty ass drunk women?”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you care if I do?”

“No! What do you care about me then?” You demand, whispering amongst the loud crowd of auctioneers, as they start lining pieces up for sale.

“Because he… you…” Satoru trails off, mouth opening and closing. “You are my wife right now, you know.”

“Fake wife.” You correct, seeing a vein throb in his temple.

“It doesn’t matter, how does it look when-”

“That’s what you care about, appearances? Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your precious appearance any.” You whisper, as the crowd settles, and a brilliant sapphire necklace is now on display.

“You act like you don’t care at all, I saw you.”

“So what!?”

“So why don’t you just tell me how -”

“Ten thousand, do I hear…”

“Shh.” You scowl at him, as he scowls back at you. “Maybe you should go sit with your girlfriends.”

He laughs softly, without humor. “You’re jealous.”

“Nope, you’ve always been that way. What’s surprising is not having seen a girl at the house.”

“You think I want-”

“Twenty Thousand, going once, going…”

“Want someone more your speed? Sure, I know this is just convenience, I'm not stupid.” You say, he scowls even deeper, his hand suddenly on your thigh in the darkened room, making your heart pound as it squeezes bruisingly.

“I’ll not have anyone touch you.” His words make no sense, they don’t even compute in your brain then.

“What do you care, hmm? If I did. If I was discrete. Remember?” You ask, bitingly and full of shit, and you watch the hurt in his eyes, hating yourself for a moment before his eyes turn insane, dilating until they’re almost black.

“You wanna fuck him, huh?” He demands, you scoff, shaking your head.

“You’re stupid, Satoru.”

“Me stupid!?”

“If you think that I want anyone but…” You pause then, gulping as people are starting to look, hearing your hushed arguments then, and you stand angrily, stomping off until you hit the bathroom, splashing water on your neck, trying to pull yourself together.

You almost said it.

You’ll never want anyone but Satoru, your best friend, and you never have, fuck you probably never will, and it’s terrifying you. When the door shuts and he’s there, chest heaving, you turn away, tears pricking your eyes. “Just go away, fuck it’s the ladies room.”

“You’re mad at me for talking to women at an event?”

“You’re mad at me for talking to someone at an event?”

Yes, fuck yes he’s furious that man got near you.

That maybe you’d want someone else, more than him.

He steps closer, hands on your shoulders now. ““You gonna be mad when I fuck someone in my room, huh?”

You freeze, turning and glaring up at him then. “I hear you jerk off every night, so what’s the difference?”

Satoru looms even closer, you feel his breath hit your lips, making your tummy clench at the thoughts of him. “And I hear you moan as you play with your little clit, ya frustrated your tiny fingers don’t hit?”

“Oh fuck you!” You turn now, shoving at him, chest heaving, but he pulls you to him, pressing you against the bathroom counter, glittering and ridiculously opulent, hands shaking when they’re on your waist.

“You should just ask for help, sounds like you can’t cum.” Satoru whispers, earning a smack on the face that makes him smirk.

“Maybe you should ask me, how many times do you need to jerk off a night, huh Toru?” Satoru’s laughing then, insanity, his cheek decorated with red from your little hand print.

“At least I make myself cum.”

“Fuck you, I’m over this. I’ll take the opposite side of the house, won’t have to hear your moans.”

“Good, won’t hear your pathetic whimpers.”

“Good!”

“Good!” You both stand there, him bent over, barring you with his arms. “Admit it, you’re jealous.”

“Nope, just annoyed with you. Over you, Mr. never has on a fucking shirt!”

“Good, I’m done, Miss walks around in slutty panties!”

“Ugh!” You shove at him again, until he’s slamming his lips on yours, and then you’re lifted like you’re nothing, when his tongue slips in your mouth, and you’re clinging to him eagerly, as he sits you on the sink, hungrily shoving up your red dress. “You’re gonna rip it, shit!”

“I’ll buy you twenty more, just shut up.” You go to retort when he’s kissing you again, deeper now, and you’re crying out right in a bathroom, knowing anyone could walk in, only serving to make your cunt dripping wet, when he finds it he moans, pulling back and staring at you. “Why are you so beautiful?”

You can’t speak then, you’re lost in him, in his blue eyes and his pink lips, in his big hands all over you, his whispering words crushing any resolve you try to have. You lose all reason then, as your head falls back as he kisses up your throat, and you’re gushing down his fingers, remembering their shape and feel as they tease your entrance.

“Please, Satoru…”

“Why are you so sweet now, huh? Where’s your attitude?” He murmurs, but you’re arching up, whining as he stares at you so hungry. “Should fuck that attitude out of you.”

“Please…” You whisper again, when Satoru bends down, his head between your thighs, and stares right at your glittering pussy.

“Oh my god, she’s s’fuckin pretty…” He murmurs then, licking a stripe up your slit that has you crying out into your hand, thighs shaking as he groans at finally being able to taste you. “S’yummy mmm…”

“Toru…what’re you-ah!” You’re covering your mouth again as he laps at your cunt, his nose bumping your sensitive clit, and you’re dripping down his face, hand finding purchase in his silken white hair, gripping it.

“Gonna lick this attitude out of you.” He whispers, as your sweet nectar pours down his mouth, his hands spreading your plump lips, fucking you with his tongue then, your head smacks the wall, nearly sobbing it feels so good. “No one’s licked it, have they, baby?” You shake your head. “Good, s’all mine, huh?”

“All… y-you… Toru what are- mnh!” He’s yanking you to him by your hips, devouring you now, unlike anything you’ve ever felt, having you close so fast it’s embarrassing, tongue dancing and delving between your folds, drinking you up loud and wanton in this bathroom.

“F-fuck….” He’s achingly hard now, cock throbbing, tip of his tongue circling your little clit as he spreads you wide, looking at your perfect pretty pussy.

“You’re just… looking at it…” You manage to whisper, and he’s chuckling now, leaning over you, sinking two fingers inside, making your eyes roll back, so sensitive you’re about to cum right then and there. “Imagining it dripping out cum, sweetheart, that’s all.”

Your brain short circuits. “With cum!?”

“Mmm.” He’s not using words anymore, not when he’s picking you up, planting your heeled feet back on the bathroom floor, turning you to face the mirror. He’s lifting that dress up higher and bending down, pressing against you, finally he’s lost it, so drunk off your pussy, he can’t take it anymore.

“Satoru, you’re insane, what are you…”His cock springs out, heavy and aching with need, as he bends you over, one hand on his cock, the other, wrapping your pretty little throat, as your eyes catch his in the mirror, glassy and dilated.

“Next time he or anyone talks to you, it’ll be with my cum dripping out of your pretty little pussy.”

Final Part

Taglist: @plaggi @baepsays @victoria1676 @flwerie @luringfantasy @moncher-ire @allonyyourmom @kindablackenedsuperhero @evelynxxo @jkslaugh97 @sugurusfavemonkey @ninikrumbs @s4ikooo1 @bunheadusa @twinkling-moonlillie @chameleonsoul111 @nina-from-317 @naammiii @whippedbyikemen @alygator77 @uarmyhopeworldwide @1satoruu @theclassbookworm @jud3thedude @isleqt @mcromer2999-blog @silvarys @orikixx @jiejies-corner-store @assbutt-inlove-with-koreans @lordbugs @ari-sa @blue-musingss @minaa-06 @uhnosav @cvixmei @seeiin @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy @beachaddict48 @miizuzu @honeybunnnnie @gojosukuna2268 @4acoffee @whoreapika @arabellasolstice

Rest in the reblog <3

[starlightsearches]

All Yours

"I'm going to fucking ruin you." / "I won't apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you're taken." / "I don't want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you do."

@somethingvicked tagging you because I accidentally deleted the original ask 😬 just wanted to say thanks for the request and a big, fat SORRY for taking so long. i was scrolling through my drafts the other day and saw this was like a year old and the shame managed to motivate me enough to finish this. Ooops again and I hope you enjoy!! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always cherished 💖

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

AN: 18+ only!!!!!!, car sex, partially-clothed sex, piv, semi-public, titty worship, humping, dacryphilia, unwarranted jealousy, porn with a little plot, eddie's self-depricating at the beginning but he fucks like a god, very possesive! eddie, multiple orgasms, one (1) mention of pregnancy but it's off-hand and mostly unrelated to the sex, unprotected sex, I took the spirit of the prompts more than the literal wording, this is very different for me and maybe rushed? idk you tell me 🙃

Eddie always jokes that you're his second love.

His van—with its stained upholstery, rattling frame and the battery on its last leg—was here first, he says. And despite everything previously mentioned, he treats that car like his baby.

So when he slams his door hard enough to rattle the glass in the window, it wouldn’t take a genius to know something is up.

Eddie sits silently in the half-light, gripping at the steering wheel with both hands and gnawing at his bottom lip until the skin turns white.

"Everything okay?"

He won't even look at you when he shoves the key in the ignition.

"Sure," Eddie says, but there's a bite to his voice, quiet over the roaring grind of the starter, "why wouldn't it be?"

The car does start—despite his abuse to the engine—and you prop your feet up on the dash, raising your brows as he tears out onto the empty street.

"Ohhh-kay. Is this about—"

You don't even get a chance to take a guess.

"It's not about Steve."

Eddie spits Steve's name at the window and the passing trees, their leaves blurring into inky smudges. You watch his jaw tick, eyes flashing from the road to the rear-view mirror, but never to you.

His resolve falters with the press of your hand against his on the gearshift.

"Really? ‘Cause I was going to ask if this was about Patrick Swayze?”

The speedometer ticks up for a quick beat, and then drops, and Eddie squirms in his seat.

He steers off to the right, and the van shakes as the tires bump off the smooth pavement to the gravel edge of the road, little twigs snapping off on the trees outside against the fading paint.

"Fuck," Eddie grumbles, quiet, like he's having a conversation with himself. His fingers catch in his curls when he takes the other hand from the steering wheel. It's dark out here, away from the street lights, but you still catch the shine glazing his lower lashes, the way he blinks to keep any tears from pooling there.

"I mean, it's no big deal," you tell him, petting over his knuckles with your thumb, "I just wish you would have said something."

You're not sure what lies were spread to make sure the goofy little pre-teens didn't show up for movie night and try to break down Steve's door. You just knew that—for once—everybody piled on the couch in the living room was of legal age.

It seemed like an exciting prospect when the night started, but everything was pretty much the same: just more beer, and fewer voices shouting about whatever movie you were gonna watch.

Nancy and Robin were a united front when they pulled out Dirty Dancing, and you joined them, mostly to annoy Steve when he pretended he wasn't interested.

Eddie grumbled about the choice, arm slung around your shoulder, but he came around, eventually. Nobody can resist the allure of Johnny Castle.

However many beers you had may have been one too many, though, because as soon as the credits started rolling, Steve had yanked you from Eddie's grasp and onto your feet as Nancy and Robin were cheering jump jump jump and you ran, stumbling into Steve's arms with a surprisingly powerful leap. Then you were floating, high above the living room with a bird's eye view of the crushed beer cans and Hostess wrappers littered over the carpet for one glorious second.

Until you landed in a giggling heap with Steve groaning beneath you, the room shaking with laughter to the point of tears, until Robin threatened to pee her pants.

Now that you've sobered up a little, you recognize that Eddie hadn't been laughing along.

He lets his head fall back against the headrest, eyes big as saucers, pathetic like a little dog who's about to get yelled at for pissing on the couch, and he twists the hand that's resting beneath yours until your fingers intertwine, gives you a squeeze—a move you recognize as an apology before he's got the words for what he's feeling.

"You know I'm not interested in Steve, right?" you ask, squeezing back.

Eddie nods, but his eyes tell a different story. He carries this thing with him—a kind of self-conscious bewilderment each time you reach for him in a crowd, press your lips to his, call him your boyfriend when there are people around to hear it.

It's kind of funny how much it doesn't make sense to you, how you assumed that, deep down, Eddie knew that you loved him, but also how badly you wanted him. That it wasn't some kind of fluke or coincidence or apathy that kept you here.

Eddie's breath catches in his chest, like he's trying not to cry, and you know you were wrong. You're not doing nearly good enough a job at making Eddie feel half as loved as he is.

You slip your hand from his, resting it just above his knee—an innocent start for your more illicit plans—scooting in your chair until you're almost nose to nose, lower your voice into a whisper.

"I'm serious, honey. You've got nothing to worry about."

Your plan is working already. Eddie swallows hard enough you can see his adam's apple jump in his throat, and his gaze keeps flickering from your eyes to the hand you've got on his thigh, climbing higher with each soothing stroke.

"Yeah, I-I know, baby, it's just—" his breath hitches, but he's fighting to get the words out, wet lips parting with a heavy breath as your fingers travel higher, thumb in the crease between his thigh and his crotch, "it's Steve Harrington."

His voice jumps an octave on Steve’s name, and your quiet laughter comes out in little breaths.

“I don't want to talk about Steve Harrington."

Your words hit his mouth in a puff of hot air, and Eddie gasps into the kiss that follows, moaning a little when your palm meets the zipper of his jeans and his swelling cock beneath. The tip of his nose digs into your cheek, one of his big hands finding your waist, trying to pull you closer, or as close as he can with the center console in the way.

"God, baby. Need you- need you so bad," he huffs, but you’re already breaking from the kiss, lifting your hips from the seat as you crawl into the space between Eddie’s warm chest and the steering wheel.

“Then you can have me,” you tell him, settling your weight in his lap, grasping around for the lever that’ll give you a little extra space. The seat rattles back until it stops with a heavy clunk, and Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep quiet when your body lurches into his.

He won’t meet your eyes, looking out the blackened windows, checking the car like somebody’s gonna pop out from the back seat.

“What? Uh, I mean—like, here?”

You take Eddie’s face in both your hands, relishing the scratch of the sparse stubble peppering his jaw. Out of habit, his hands come to rest on your thighs, and you hum in approval.

“Whenever–“ you whisper, shifting your hips back just to bring them forward again, the crotch of your jeans meeting the bulge in his, rattling the chains hooked to his belt loops. Eddie’s neck goes taut, head pressed back against the seat.

“Wherever– “ you place your lips at the delicate skin he’s revealed, just brushing along the column of his throat. When you meet his eyes again, Eddie’s pupils are blown wide.

“And however you want me, Eddie. I’m all yours.”

“You’re all mine,” he repeats back to you, and his hands echo the sentiment, his confidence growing as he moves around to grip at your ass cheeks, pulling you more fully against him until he can grind up on you, his lips at your neck now, planting messy kisses at the edge of your throat that have you digging your fingers into his hair just to keep him there.

Your boyfriend's got a big dick—fucking hung like a horse, although he doesn't seem to know it, and he's already throbbing and heavy in his jeans, bucking his hips into you like he's trying to get you pregnant before he’s even inside you.

"Eddie," you sigh his name, just to admire the feeling of it, and he lets out a groan that has you dripping, the damp fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt and dragging over your clit with each shift of his hips.

"Yeah, baby?" he asks, and you hardly notice his hands at the zipper on your jacket, trailing it down, down, down until he can slip it from your shoulders, gripping at your tits through your tank top.

"You feel so—fuck," he's cut you off mid-sentence, pulling the neckline of your top down until your breasts are free, nipples already pebbling in the cool air. Eddie pinches one of them in between two fingers, the metal of his rings biting at the other until you gasp.

"Yeah?" he repeats, harder this time, the word mumbled into your tits. Eddie's smothering himself, licking and kissing and teething his way as he moves to replace one of his hands with his mouth over the dark, stiff peak.

He sucks the bud between his lips, glides his tongue over the sensitive skin there. The sound of your moans fills the car, and suddenly the pressure of his cock isn't enough when there's so much fabric between you. You can't pull away, though, not with how his free arm has circled your waist, forcing the sway of your hips.

"Eddie," you call out again, but he just grunts, onto the other breast now, fucking devouring you in a way only he can.

He's not stopping, teeth scraping at your skin and his lips pursed, sucking the life out of you while his other hand pinches and flicks the other stiff bud, still damp with his spit.

It's almost frightening how close he's gotten you, and just from this—the movement of his hips and his worshiping mouth.

"Eddie."

There must be something different in the way you say it this time, because he listens, finally, snaking his hand down between your bodies, slipping the button on your jeans and shoving his fingers inside until they reach the apex of your aching cunt. Your vision goes foggy, on the verge of tears from the relief of something solid pressed right up against your clit.

And his mouth doesn't stray from your tits, single-minded in a way only somebody like Eddie could be, sucking at your nipples until they both shine.

His fingers curl, perfect, sitting right where you need them as you grind and grind and grind your hips, brain turning to jelly with the way he's making you feel.

You feel Eddie's teeth bite a perfect circle on the inside of your breast, and that's what pulls you under.

You're practically screaming, and Eddie still won't stop, letting you ride out the perfect feeling of him, maybe hoping you'll remember this moment the next time Steve sees you. Just the idea of meeting up with your friends again after this has you flushing so deep you think you might combust right here.

The sparks fade slowly, your pussy still shaking and empty, wet enough you're sure you've soaked Eddie's fingers and he finally relents, his plump, pink lips tracing your collar bones, stopping at the edge of your jaw. He takes the delicate skin their between his teeth and sucks, hard.

That jolts you from your stupor. You press his head back, one hand on his forehead so you can make him look you in the eyes.

"Hey—that's gonna bruise."

You're scolding has no effect; Eddie's on a different plane now, cocky from making you cum so easily and still a little peeved from earlier, pressing past your hold on him until he can reattach himself to your neck.

"Not sorry," he tells you, marking you up between staccato shifts of his hips, "wanna make sure everybody knows you're mine."

It's impenetrable logic—you couldn't argue with him if you wanted to, and you really, really don't want to when he makes his way to your mouth, kissing you, his tongue against yours and his hot, heavy breaths, one hand balled in the fabric of your tank top at the middle of your back.

"Turn around," he tells you, guiding you into compliance with his hands at your waist, and it makes you dizzy, feeling like you'd end up on the ceiling if Eddie didn't keep his grip on you, pulling you tight against him until your back meets his chest.

It’s like he's touching you everywhere, hands on your hips and your tits and pushing your hair up off your neck—looking for more skin that he hasn't painted yet—so you're not prepared when the chair falls back, left breathless and unmoored, staring at the stained upholstery on the roof of Eddie's van.

"You good?" Eddie asks in response to the gasp you let out, urging your hips into the air as he tugs your jeans and your underwear down around your thighs.

You just nod, too desperate for any explanation, to say anything at all. Eddie's turned you stupid, has you whining into his neck when you lean your head back on his shoulder, looking up at his jaw with wild, tear-filled eyes.

"Gonna ruin you for anybody else, sweetheart," he tells you over the sound of his jangling belt, his hot cock pressed against your back. "Gonna make sure you never leave me."

You nod, fucking rabid when he shifts and you can finally feel the fat tip of his dick at your entrance, smearing the first taste of his cum over your lips.

"Nobody else, Eddie," you promise him, "just you."

Eddie takes his cock in his hand, teasing it over your pussy, nudging it against your clit until you jump in his arms. He grips tighter at your waist, holding you just under your tits to keep you still.

"Promise?" he asks.

The tears that slip down your cheeks and onto his neck must be answer enough, because Eddie slides inside you, just the tip, and the relief at even this small feeling of fullness has you crying out.

Eddie's thrusts are methodical and relentless, slow at first, but they build quickly, his hips slamming into you, his grunts from exertion and from pleasure low in your ear. And you're moaning, too, like putty against him, totally enraptured as you watch the muscles in his jaw flex, beads of sweat collecting at his hairline.

He keeps hitting this spot inside you, has you full to the brim, and you're so wet you half-wonder if your pussy juice is soaking into the seat.

It feels like the van is rocking with the force of his thrusts, steam collecting around the edges of the windows from your shared breaths. It’s obscene how in to this you are, how loud it sounds, the wet squelch of your poor cunt echoing around the interior of his van.

"You're gonna cum for me, baby," he tells you, "wanna feel you squeezing my cock."

Four of his fingers meet at the top of your thighs, rubbing steady circles over your clit. You think you might be screaming.

Eddie has you cumming like you're being raptured, twitching in his lap, tits bouncing as he fucks into you, deeper than before until your vision blacks out and you can't see or feel or think of anything but perfect Eddie Munson and his perfect fucking cock.

It's dark when you come to. Maybe he fucked you blind.

Your vision returns, though, just in time. Eddie's chest heaves beneath you, and he pulls out with a grunt, his cum and yours dripping down your thighs in a sight so lurid it's got you flushing down to your neck.

That's definitely going to stain the upholstery.

Eddie doesn't seem to care, stroking his heavy hands over your thighs, pulling your clothes back into place—gentle where they had been rough, his mouth dotting soft kisses against the back of your spine.

Eddie shifts you around in his lap, let's his big eyes find yours. Your fingers twine with his, and he laughs a little when you kiss at his knuckles.

"You know," Eddie says, cheeks pink and a stupid smile on his face, "now that I think about it, Dirty Dancing might be my new favorite movie. I mean, who doesn’t love Patrick Swayze?"

[angelfishe]

𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 ( 𝐇𝐒𝐑 )

>> hsr men x reader

Character : Dr ratio, Gallagher, Sunday, aventurine, argenti, blade, Dan heng, Mr reca, Jing yuan, gepard, luocha, welt and boothill.

May contain NSFW content

⚠️ Minors do not interact please ⚠️

Edit 1 : due to some grammar error I make, I change some of the words for my mistake

Dr ratio switch in my heart, there's always two outcomes when it comes into smashing, one of you guys are gonna lose and drain while the other one basks in light and happiness, and after smashing he will return back into his studies or he will teach you about his new theories while you just lay their exhausted. Or the other outcome where you win, his face would be covered in red and you would occasionally tease him while he muffled a shut up with his exhausted voice.

Gallagher immediately made your favorite drink for you after the deed was done, and sometimes when the bar is empty and no one would be seen. You and him would sneak into the back to have your break time together. He would compliment how amazing you were and how he wants to do it again but both of you have shifts in the bar so you guys have to continue it later on.

Sunday would be a blushing mess, even before him joining the astral express he would have some knowledge about intercourse but have never experienced it, but when you came along you have open his eyes into a new world of pleasure, during a session you would occasionally kiss the piercing on his wings and that would cause him to blush and cover his with his wings. And right now he's very much wishes to learn more about this new world.

Aventurine, very much love to tease you. He would put unnecessary bets so you and him would do it, every time he wins a game he would say you are his grand price after a big game. He would be smirking the entire time after finishing. Originally I like the idea of him actually being nervous of initiating intimacy due to his past but you made him feel secure and complete he completely learned how to open up. And when you kiss his mark he would immediately ingulp you in a big hug seeking your comfort.

Argenti, would praise you non stop about how beautiful you were and everything about you. He would start to worship you similar to how he worships idrila one time during a climax, he thought he saw the light and fully convinced you were the reincarnation of idrila. The bed would be covered with rose petals and both of you are lying there, he with a satisfied smile while you with a tired look .

Blade, he pretty much doesn't know how to initiate aftercare with you but he tried his best. He would wipe you with a warm cloth around your body making sure you're comfortable in any position although cannot say the same thing about your body after being twisted and moved into different positions during the entire duration of the time. He would also bring your favorite food. Pretty much sure he can go for more than another round but doesn't want to exhaust you. Even worse when his mara struck is awake you won't be walking anytime soon.

Dan heng, would brew tea for both of you making sure you are comfortable. Making sure your comfortable and warm by using the pillows of the astral express and when he's in heat you and him would stay in his room for a week with food being delivered into your rooms the best part of the archives that it sound proof making sure no one knows your business and during intimacy he would let his vividyahara self out because his comfortable with you in his true form.

Mr reca would praise you about your performance and immediately start clapping after the deed was done. Would make love scenes inspired by you guys or record to watch over and over again. He said it's a masterpiece on how both of you guys move in sync as well how angelic your voice is. Would write about a Script describing how perfect you were during intimacy. As well as talking about his new movie ideas with you during finishing or aftercare.

Jing yuan, would immediately fall asleep and give you a death grip hug. His hair is disheveled and sleep with a satisfied look as if he just finish having the best time in his and when you wake up he would be admiring you as if he had been admiring you for hours and if there's ever work the day after, he would arrive a little late due not wanting to leave you or would go to work not without leaving a note and a goodbye kiss on your fore head there's food and tea ready for you to wake up. He's very clingy post intimacy.

Gepard, a blushing mess, even tho his the captain of the silver man guards he is a total puppy in the sheets very much and you treat him with so much love and caress his body with so much love he would explode any second if not, would be very red in the face and shy. He so cute, he would not initiate intimacy in public but you would usually visit him to drop his lunch and it will always end up him a blushing mess and tired.

Luocha, a Disney princess, his hair spread along the sheets with his hand over his head and breathing heavily. Even in this state he would still be very beautiful like a flower, would initiate after care by healing your bruises if he ever went overboard. Would bring you hot water for your throat after being exhausted and stretched. Would leave kisses around your body.

Welt, this old man. Very clingy after intimacy would hug you 24/7 as well sometimes being awkward sense he doesn't know how to react. He would be very disheveled after intimacy and would initiate cuddling. He doesn't want to let you go after you guys came together this is perfect for him. A perfect scenario and perfect dream.

Boothill, right back at ya partner, you guys know the song saves a horse ride a cow boy well that's him. Every time if he wants Intimacy he would put his cowboy hat on your head and that's to give you the idea of what he wants. You are his reward and sun for him. After intimacy his hard drive would be overstimulated and you would be wearing his cowboy hat.

[chuulyssa]

from people you know to people you don’t: singer!geto

singer!geto with his silver rings clinking against the mic stand when he adjusts it mid-performance. with his fingers running through his long, dark hair just to play on the bad boy persona the media has made of him. with his spot under the spotlight in front of thousands of people to see, who lets the crowd chant in some of the vocals in the chorus while he laughs, gripping the mic and pointing it to his fans, his black painted nails gleaming in the stage lights.

singer!geto who avoids interviews, questions, and who doesn’t sing love songs... but somehow his fans always end up finding love letters in his cryptic lyrics. and he always leaves them unconfirmed too, just smirking whenever paparazzi ask if they’re real or fiction. always answering “my fans are my muse” whenever pressed about his inspo.

singer!geto who leans into the bad boy image of him by the media because it’s much easier to do so than to explain the quiet loneliness and crippling depression he has felt since high school. because it’s much easier to be seen with a new woman every month than to confess to his entire world.

singer!geto who finds himself thinking of you late at night, about what it all could’ve been had he not been so selfish. he doesn’t understand if he’s selfish or just protecting you, but whatever it is, god does it hurt him, and a little voice in his mind hopes you’re hurting as much as he is right now, not being able to touch the skin of your face, or the softness of your lips in his big and lonely penthouse.

singer!geto whose eyes are always searching around in his concert, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces just so that maybe he could find yours, and maybe that would mean he was finally forgiven for pushing you away for so long, for always having his name in headlines linked to other women who aren’t you, for always being so scared of his own fans for you.

singer!geto who’s lyrics are always penned at three in the morning when his imaginations of you are the most vivid. and he swears to his pr team he’s not in love, never has been. yet they all question how the words pour out more sorrowfully than they would have if it had been all just stupid stories of broken couples.

singer!geto who doesn’t know where you are right now after he cut you off that night. so he travels around the world in the guise of his world tours, and doesn’t forget to explore the whole city in case he finds you in the marketplace buying your favourite fruits like he used to, or in the store with the snack you used to share with him on movie nights, or in the shopping mall where he swore he would buy you pretty dresses when he grows up and becomes rich.

singer!geto who wishes he knew how to grow up happy, who wishes he never dreamed his dream now that he has achieved it, who still wants what he wanted all those years ago so selfishly. even after all those “you have to sacrifice to achieve your goals” he says to the world, he wishes you would unblock him on your instagram just so you could match pfps again, so you could post him on your stories saying “my pookie” again, and even though he said he hated when you called him that, he would kill just to hear it spill from your lips one more time.

singer!geto who would always question why most successful people said money couldn’t buy everything, but has now realized that they were right. money couldn’t buy the way you laughed at his jokes, or the way you smiled at the new song he wrote, or the way you kissed his calloused fingers after a long practice session.

singer!geto who looks at small things at the shopping center and thinks you would like them, so he buys them even though you aren’t here to savour them anymore. he doesn’t remember how often he’s been questioned about this habit of buying clothes that won’t fit him, or things on his shelf that most certainly could never match his style. he could go on and on about the meaning those carried for him, but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

singer!geto who’s a coward, too afraid to take your name in front of the crowd of his thousand or so fangirls. what if you didn't like the spotlight? what if the girls got a bit too crazy? was it his fault for picking this career after all? was it his fault he fell in love with you more than he did for the strings of his guitar?

singer!geto who climbs up on stage for the final day of his tour, and it’s in the old city you used to live in. the old high school the two of you would go to was long demolished, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the love you held for him was destroyed along with that building as well. but among the low murmurs of the crowd, and the light falling on their faces, his eyes search for just one person almost habitually.

and he finds her.

you.

singer!geto who’s always been a bit shy when it came to singing in front of you. so when he sees you in the audience, his voice falters, and he forgets his purpose, and although he isn’t quite sure if his delusions have finally caught up to reality, or if his imagination has become progressive enough to project his feelings in the real world, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes squint as if to demand if you were real. if you were really there.

singer!geto who you smile timidly at, too small in the row of his million or so fans, too much of a speck in the sea to be noticed by anyone else. but he notices. he always notices. and you think this is the first time he has taken this long to tune his guitar on stage, and the others might have missed the faint pink on his cheeks. he was always shy.

“you’ll like this one,” he says as if you haven’t already liked the hundred songs he wrote before.

singer!geto who keeps forgetting the next lines of the song he wrote, and instead keeps adding lines that feel more raw, more real than anything anyone has ever heard before. and he has always refused to sing love songs, then why is this one about wanting to be braver to keep a relationship he quit, his fans wonder. but how would they know that singer!geto performs under the stage lights every night, but he has only ever felt seen when he was with you.

singer!geto who tumbles downstage immediately after the performance, hearing the chants of his name only distantly, just so he can scream at his managers to find the pretty lady in the purple dress he had bought for you so long ago and forgotten about after thinking you would’ve thrown it away just like he had done to you.

singer!geto who finds you walking up to him with a sheepish smile, and his breath catches in his throat. he doesn’t want to believe it is real — he wants to meet you alone, not in front of all the prying eyes of his team. his eyes are wide and his lips are quivering, and the only thing keeping him from breaking down completely is the hand you extended to greet him.

“hi,” you introduce your name, and his shaking hands meet your firm ones.

he stiffens and nods, surprised by the formality but not completely so. his fingers clutch tightly around the back of your hand that he knew so well, but now it just feels so unknown. he desperately tries to claw at you, or rather what he remembers of you, the one who has haunted the lyrics of his songs for so long.

his voice is trembling when he says your name, though it feels foreign on his tongue now. have you changed so much that you forgot him?

“i’m a fan, can i have your autograph?”

you could have the whole man if you requested, sweetheart.

but you don’t know it.

you don’t remember.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

a/n: i have my math 3h paper tmr wtf am i doing here

[imsogonesposts]

Sixth Times the Charm

|| ao3 || requests are open!! ||

summary: It seems like every time Steve tries to kiss you, something or someone interrupts him. (5 times Steve tries to kiss you for the first time, and the one time he finally got to.) (wc: 2,165)

warnings: brief mentions steve's bad parents. brief mention of a toddler throwing up. I think thats it!!

1.

You and Steve had been dating for a little over a month when he decided tonight was the night he was going to kiss you. After you agree, of course. He never wanted to pressure you into doing things you weren’t ready for. He would wait a year, longer even, to kiss you if you so much as asked. But, he knew that tonight was the night.

He had taken you to the movie theaters that night to watch “Pretty in Pink,” and everything had gone perfectly. The theater was practically empty, he got to have his arm around your shoulder the entire night, and your hands brushed as you both reached for popcorn at the same time. Repeatedly. In his mind, nothing could have made the night better. That is until he drove you home later that night. 

After the movie had ended, he parked in your driveway, and the two of you got to talking. He noticed the slight nervous stutter you let out when he brushed a strand of hair out of your face and couldn’t help but smile. 

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered as you whispered back a “yes.” And as he held your chin and leaned forward, the porch light in front of your house turned on. He sighed, almost immediately letting go of your chin, putting some space between the two of you as you both let out a nervous laugh. 

“Guess you should head inside, huh?” He asked, nodding his head to your house. 

“Guess so,” you replied with a sheepish smile, quickly kissing his cheek before exiting the car. “Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered as you walked to your front door. Though, Steve was too giddy to notice. A stupid smile plastered on his face from the kiss on his cheek. It may not be what he was aiming for, but hey, he’ll take what he can get. 

***

2.

The following day, you had paid Steve a visit during his lunch break at his job at Family Video, as you usually did. 

“Why do you never let me pay for the rentals?” You asked with a smile as he scanned a VHS copy of "Top Gun," the first one to come in stock since it arrived at the Video Store. 

“Because you’re my girlfriend, and it’s only fair that you get to use my discount too,” he replies, smiling back at you as he snuck a few of your favorite chocolates into a bag for you. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he says with a wink. 

“Whatever can I do to make it up to you?” You ask, rolling your eyes at him with a smile. 

A kiss. If you want, he thinks. “Well, your company’s a great start,” he says while leaning over the counter, face nowcloser to yours. “I love it when you visit me, even if you end up putting me to work cause of your movie requests,” he says in faux annoyance, smiling at your laughter. 

And just as he was about to ask if he could kiss you, Robin came running out of the break room. 

“Steve, there’s a really gross bug in the break room, and I’d really appreciate it if you killed it,” she says, eyes wide with a sheepish smile. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve replies, dropping his head and walking off to the break room. But not before giving your shoulder a quick squeeze and an apologetic smile. 

“Thanks a lot, Robin,” he says after killing the bug the girl was too scared to do herself. 

“You’re gonna see her later anyways,” she replies, laughing at his huff of annoyance. 

“I was this close to kissing her,” he replies, leaning on the wall and raising his hand to show a small gap between his thumb and index finger. 

“Isn’t this the second time?” Robin asks with a laugh as Steve huffs again, already moving to leave the break room. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he replies with a small smile. "Third times the charm though, right?" 

***

3.

It was one of the few times Steve’s parents were home. And, though he wanted nothing more than to be out of the house, whether at your place, the movies, hell, he’d even go to work today if it meant he didn’t have to be here, his parents wanted him to spend the day at home. In order to “spend some time together.” Even though they've barely spoken to him the whole day. 

So, you had come over to spend some time with him, which he had greatly appreciated. Though the two of you hadn’texactly been doing anything too exciting, you were on his bed reading a book and he was flipping through a Batman comic Dustin had forced him to read, on the other side of the bed, he was still glad to be in your company. 

“You know, I really don’t get why the kids are so obsessed with a bunch of guys in spandex,” Steve said, breaking the comfortable silence between you two as he tossed the comic to the floor. 

“I think that Spider-Man's pretty neat,” you reply, setting your book on his nightstand as he moved to lie next to you.

“I’m way better than some spider guy,” Steve said, smiling at the way your face lit up when you laughed. He couldn’thelp but brush a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. 

“Would it be alright if-“ he whispered before being interrupted by an over-exaggerated scream. 

“My eyes!” Dustin yells, covering his eyes with his hands as Steve lets out a long groan. 

“How did you get in my house, Henderson?” Steve asks, reluctantly letting go of your face, turning his attention to Dustin to fix him with an annoyed glare. 

“Your mom let me in. Is it safe to look?” Dustin asked, still covering his eyes. 

“We weren’t doing anything,” you reply at the same time Steve mumbles “kid needs his ego checked. Can't even knock on a fucking door.”

“Hey, why’s my comic on the floor?” Dustin asks, finally removing his hands from his eyes, moving to pick up the discarded comic. 

“It was boring,” Steve replies with a shrug. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted a ride to the arcade,” the younger boy simply replied.

“How’d you get here?” Steve asks with a sigh, glancing at you to see if you would be okay with the two of you making a trip to the arcade.

“I biked.”

“You couldn’t bike over there?” 

“Your house is closer.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh as you squeeze his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he whispers to you with a smile, before returning his gaze to Dustin.  “Alright, alright, I’ll take you to the stupid arcade.” Dustin was already walking out of Steve’s room before Steve could even finish his sentence.

***

4.

You had decided to join Steve and Dustin as they made their way to the arcade, as you had nothing else to do for the day. And what better way to spend it than with your boyfriend? 

“I’m sorry we had to spend our day here,” Steve told you, leaning against one of the games as you played Pac-Man.

“It’s fine,” you shrug with a smile. “I haven’t been here in forever, so I guess it’s nice to come and revisit it.”

“I’m gonna try and win you something from that claw machine,” Steve suddenly announces as you lose your last life in the game. 

“You don’t have to-“ you start before he wraps an arm around your shoulder, already pulling you to the machine. 

“Oh, but I want to, baby,” he says, nodding his head to the stuffed animals. “Which is your favorite?” He asks, smiling as you choose your pick. 

About $4 later, he had finally won you a teddy bear, squeezing your shoulder as he asked “what are you gonna name it?”

“Mr. Snuffles, obviously,” you reply in a faux serious tone, smile as bright as can be. 

“Hey, Mr. Snuffles,” he replies, putting a hand out to shake the bear’s paw. 

“You’re an idiot,” you tease with a smile. 

“I’m your idiot,” he replies, lightly poking your cheek. And just as he was about to make his move and ask if he could kiss you, a toddler a few feet away from the two of you threw up, effectively killing the mood. 

“Great,” Steve muttered under his breath, putting an arm around your waist and pulling you away from the crying toddler and his mom. “Let’s look for Dustin so we can take him home,” he says. 

Two failed kiss attempts in one day? That had to be some sort of world record. And of course, Steve had to be the one to break it. 

***

5.

Steve had decided to pay you a visit at your job at the record store during his break. He had brought you some popcorn from Family Video, which, conveniently enough, was just a block away from your job. Which meant the two of you frequently visited each other on your breaks. 

As “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper played through the speakers, Steve glanced around the empty store before an idea hit him. He quickly took your hands in his, raising them to be wrapped around his neck, then settling his own hands on your waist. 

“What are you doing?” You asked with a laugh as he began to sway the two of you.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m dancing with you.” He replied.

“Okay, well, why?” You ask, smiling at him. He just shrugs, continuing to dance with you. 

“Because I can,” he teases, smiling back at you. 

“This is nice,” you whisper after a few moments of silence as he moves one hand to cup your face. 

“Can I-“ he whispers, before being interrupted by the bell above the door ringing, indicating someone has entered the store. Reluctantly, you both let go, moving away from each other so you wouldn’t get written up for PDA on company time. 

Maybe another day, he thought. 

***

+1

Steve was starting to believe he may never get to kiss you. After so many interruptions, he was beginning to believe the world was playing some kind of cruel trick on him. One that resulted in him losing his goddamn mind because he couldn’tkiss his pretty girlfriend. 

But tonight, he had a plan. One that would ensure he wouldn’t get interrupted before he got to kiss you. No parents, no friends, no customers, and no throwing-up toddlers to interrupt. 

“Wow, you’re really taking me to your old hook-up spot?” You ask teasingly as Steve rolls his eyes. Yes, he was taking you to Lover’s Lake, but not with the intention of hooking up.

“I’m taking you to see the stars,” he replies, smiling at your brief look of shock. “I heard you telling Robin how much you love the stars, so I thought, why not take my beautiful girlfriend to go look at them?” 

“That’s really sweet,” you whisper as he puts the car in park. 

“That’s my middle name,” he replies with a wink. “Steve Sweet Harrington.” 

“I thought it was Joseph,” you reply, smiling as he rolls his eyes. He walks around the car, opening the passenger side door and putting a hand out for yours to help you out of the car. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he replies, closing the door, and retrieving blankets from the back seat to lay on the grass. “Just make yourself comfortable, babe.” 

“I read a book,” he starts, arm around your shoulder as you both sit on the grass, looking up at the starry night sky. “And that right there,” he points to a cluster of stars, “is called Orion.”

“You read a book about stars?” You ask, looking at him with a smile. 

“Wanted to seem smart in front of you,” he replied with a shrug, as if reading a book to impress you was no big deal. 

“That’s so sweet,” you quietly reply, repeating your earlier sentiment. 

“I told you it was my middle name,” he teases, lightly nudging your shoulder with his. 

“I’m starting to think it actually might be,” you reply, still smiling at him. You looked so pretty under the stars. 

“Can I kiss you?” He quietly asks, as your smile somehow grows even more

“Yeah,” you whisper back as he cups the side of your face, before leaning in to finally kiss you. 

“I’ve been waiting forever to do that,” he half-jokes, smiling at your laughter. 

“I kind of figured,” you reply with a shrug as he rolls his eyes with a smile. 

“I’m not that obvious,” he says with a faux scowl that quickly melts away when you move to kiss him again.

Steve couldn’t help but punch a fist in the air at the fact that he finally got to kiss you. And he couldn’t wait to do it over and over again. 

[gffa]

With the confirmation of The Acolyte not getting a second season, I can't say I'm surprised, the numbers for that show were really bad given what its budgets was, like I kept an eye on The Acolyte's numbers and they were really, really down across the board (Ahsoka's numbers aren't super great either but that's getting its second season because it's Filoni's pet show, I suspect), like set aside all the other complicated stuff, whether it was good or bad, how much of the fandom's reaction was pretty heinous and racist, it just was not getting the numbers it needed and it's making me wonder about how all of these shows are not doing well. Mando is doing all right, OWK did all right, Andor's doing okay, but none of these shows are setting anything on fire anymore (ratings-wise, that is), what would it take to create something that takes off again?

I strongly suspect that The Mandalorian only took off because of Favreau, who really does know how to make something really good and fun in the beginning. Filoni gets a lot of credit for that show, but I'd be willing to put ten dollars on the table that Favreau was driving the vast majority of the success of that series. And that makes me wonder about the future of these shows, because I don't think Filoni is strong enough to really carry a show on his own, most of his best work is when he has a strong partner actively working with him or when he was working under Lucas.

And the creators they bring in to create these shows aren't setting anything on fire, either. Yeah, the sequels made a billion dollars for each movie, but I think it's pretty telling that we're not getting comics or books or games about those characters anymore, the way we did for the prequels characters for more than a decade after they came out. Yeah, Tony Gilroy and Deborah Chow had shows that did solidly well, but they're not anything that Star Wars can build future content off of, they're already backstories for other movies themselves. And I don't think Skeleton Crew is going to light anything on fire, either.

Lucasfilm just doesn't seem to know what to do with Star Wars TV and movies. They had some really good early success with their projects, but almost everything ultimately fizzled out after a few years or ended really badly, and it feels like the only thing that's really hitting with audiences are more Clone Wars-era content and The High Republic novels and maybe still The Mandalorian.

Honestly, if I were Lucasfilm, I'd cut out the live action shows and go back to animation and think long and hard about setting up a new movie series. I think, with the right creative team (and not just who they think is a big name to write/direct), they could have a great trilogy with The Old Republic era stuff, because they have got to expand beyond the PT/OT and the Skywalkers, especially since the sequels put a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths about how Luke, Leia, and Han's stories ended.

(I mean, in my ideal world, we'd get an animated series set in between TPM and AOTC or set like 30 years pre-TPM and getting to see the backstories for characters like Mace and Plo and Shaak and Luminara and Yarael, but I'm not holding my breath on that one.)

[burrowdarling]

Masked Up (18+)

Summary: A request for a particular Halloween costume turns into so much more

Pairing: Joe Burrow x gf!reader

Warning: smut, language, oral, ghostface!Joe, masked man, dom!Joe x sub!reader, light choking, praise, light degradation

Note: Hi! Wow, I got this out way faster than I was expecting to. This is my first smutty Joe fic that I've written and I hope you all like it. With that being said, this fic is 18+. NSWF, MDNI, all of the things, etc. I tried my best and I hope you all enjoy it right in time for Halloween!

p.s thank you to the anon for suggesting ghostface!joe

Word Count: 3k

Check out my Masterlist here!

It was a cozy fall evening at home for Joe and I, a rarity during the season. We were both snuggled up on the couch, I was lying between Joe’s legs with my back to his chest and a blanket draped over us both. To get into the spirit with Halloween around the corner, Joe decided it would be a good idea to watch a scary movie. The first one he found was Scream.

While the movie played in the background, Joe and I talked about the upcoming Halloween get together we were planning with some of our friends. It was going to be our first Halloween together and I wanted to do something special for it. Joe, being more introverted and as costume-opposed as he was, agreed because ‘it would make me happy’.

“You could always do something simple like one of those masks or something” feeling myself get excited as I said the idea out loud. That had been one of my newly discovered kinks, never trying it myself before, but finding something about it to be extremely hot. Knowing it would be Joe underneath the mask, letting him do what pleased to me under a façade. I hadn’t said anything to Joe yet, not that I feel like he would necessarily judge me for it, but it wasn’t the most traditional kink out there.

“You mean like that ghost one or something?” Joe questioned, oblivious to how his words were affecting me. I squeezed me thighs closer together at the thought of Joe masked up and fucking me senseless. 

I must’ve been lost in my thoughts longer than I thought, Joe nudging my back from behind waiting on a response.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I questioned, voice slightly labored.

“I asked if you wanted me to wear a Ghostface mask for the party. I’m not big on costumes, but I could make something work with that” Joe stated, feeling content with the idea. 

I could feel my cheeks heating up at the thought, mumbling something into the blanket. Joe looked at me confused, pulling the blanket down to see my rosy cheeks.

“What’d you say babe, I can’t hear you when you’re mumbling” he looked at me, eyes soft and waiting for an answer. 

It was now or never, the worst that could happen would be him saying no. 

“I feel like you would look hot dressed up as Ghostface” I spoke quickly, darting back under the blanket to hide my embarrassment for, what I felt like, would be the inevitable judgement I’d get for the confession.

“Hey, hey why are you hiding on me? There’s no need to get all shy on me now” Joe said with a light chuckle, pulling the blanket back from my face yet again. Flushed cheeks and shallow breathing an obvious indicator of the thoughts on my mind. It was a miracle Joe hadn’t pointed that out yet.

“I think I could make that work for you, I could make a pretty hot Ghostface huh” Joe said, pulling me back against him and turning his attention back to the tv. I felt my desire growing, images of Joe in the mask flooding my thoughts for the remainder of the evening. I couldn’t wait for the party.

The next day

I had just gotten home from work, excited to get out of my work clothes and ready to change from my skirt and sweater to one of joe’s hoodies and sweatpants. I was able to get out early which was a rarity and figured I would help Joe do some more of the decorating for the party. He had the time available and offered to do what he could, but I didn’t expect him to do everything when it was my idea to host. I slid my key into the door, unlocking it and shutting it gently behind me.

When I was met with silence, I called out to Joe, letting him know of my early arrival, just to be further met with silence. I slid off my jacket and took off my shoes by the door walking further into the house, looking to see if he was in the kitchen. I noticed that he had started to put up some of the decorations for the party, but I also noticed something else on the edge of the kitchen island. There was a bloody handprint made out of red paint. I continued further into the house, finding more handprints as I went, but not Joe. When I finally made it to the bedroom after finding the last handprint, I was met with an empty room.

“Joe?” I lightly called out, questioning where else he could possibly be. 

‘I wonder where he went’, I said to myself in my head, noting that his car was in the garage when I pulled in. As I was about to turn around to leave the room, I felt a firm hand slither around my waist, the other coming up to cover my mouth. I was first met with a feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach, but that soon diminished to desire, knowing it was Joe behind me. I could feel his muscles as he pulled my closer to him, making it harder for me to escape. 

His hand slid down from my mouth to my throat, grasping me to pull me towards his mouth as he leaned to my ear. His voice came through muffled, telling me that he must’ve listened intently to our conversation the night before. I turned my head the best I could and noticed that there was a mask over his face.

Joe turned me to face him, my breath hitching in my throat as I was met with a Ghostface mask and a shirtless Joe, his muscles on full display. Joe pushed me up against the wall, caging me in with his body, leaning his masked face down by my ear. 

He whispered, “looks like it’s my turn to play”.

It was so sudden; I was swept up into his arms and tossed back on the bed. It was quite a sight to behold, my Greek god of a boyfriend shirtless, masked up, and ready to do what he pleased with me. I could feel the familiar burn in my stomach begin to grow and the mess of thoughts going on in my head of the endless possibilities. 

I scooted back as far as I could go towards the headboard before Joe gripped one of my ankles, dragging me back towards him and lifting up my skirt in the process. He began to climb up onto the bed, his presence filling the entire room. I laid there before him, feeling defenseless and excited for what was to come. 

“Take your sweater off for me. Now” Joe demanded, and without a second thought I did. 

“Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Is this living up to your fantasy that you had in your head?” Joe asked his voice dripping with desire as I struggled to form coherent thoughts.

I quickly nodded my head, a grumbled yes being the only thing I could come up with. A gasp escaped my lips as he slid his hands down my bare thighs, forcing my knees to bend, hiking my skirt higher up my legs, as I laid back on the bed. Joe growled with approval of my evident desire laid out before him, trailing his fingers over my clothed pussy. He was looking at me as if I was an entire meal ready to be devoured. 

“if I knew this would get you this wet sweetheart, I would’ve done this sooner. You’ve been holding out on me huh” Joe joked as he continued to tease me. 

I could feel my patience wearing thinner the longer he held out on me continuing to tease my clothed center. 

“Please Joe “I begged, the need to feel his hands on me properly growing with each passing second. 

“Look at you, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already soaked for me. Can barely even form a sentence, you’re so needy. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours hm? Are you thinking about how badly you want me to touch you, fuck you with my fingers while I’m wearing this mask” Joe continued, finally sliding my panties down my legs, the cool air hitting my pussy causing me to shiver. 

Before I could give him a proper answer, he thrust his two middle fingers into me, pressing in all of the right places with the right speed and pressure. The best response I could come up with was a moan as my back arched up off of the mattress. 

“Look at my girl, already a mess from just my fingers. Think you can cum just from my fingers for me?” Joe questioned, voice low and gravely.

At this rate with how he’s been with me, it felt like a genuine possibility. With Joe’s other hand, he moved my bra up off of my tits to gain access, immediately pinching one of my hard nipples. I felt the familiar knot begin to tighten, ready to snap at any moment. 

“Cum for me sweet girl, I know you can” Joe mused as his paced quicken and began to touch my clit with his thumb. That caused the snap, becoming a moaning mess beneath him. It took me a good minute to regain my composure and come back down from my high. 

I looked up at him from the bed, reigniting my desire to have him again. 

“I want your pretty mouth on my cock baby before I absolutely ruin you. The only thing you’ll know how to say is my name” Joe __, his erection evident in his sweats.

A new wave of desire washed over me, eagerly getting down on my knees, wanting to obey him. I placed a delicate kiss over his clothed crotch, my fingers toying with the waistband of his black sweatpants while I looked up at him innocently.

“I’m not in the mood for games right now, baby girl you don’t want to test me” Joe groaned firmly, not wanting to test him any further.

“Yes sir” I said, eliciting a deep moan from above at my word choice, before pulling down his sweatpants and boxers all in one swift motion. His hard cock came free, causing my mouth to water at the sight of it. I gave his head a kiss before licking a stripe from the base to the tip, taking him into my mouth as far as I could go.

I created a steady rhythm, taking in what I could and using my hand for what I couldn’t. I felt my hair being pulled into a makeshift ponytail.

“I want to fuck your mouth so bad right now” Joe said, voice filled with lust.

I nodded, letting him take control as I felt my eyes begin to water from his thrusts, though he was still careful to not go too deep. 

“God I love how your mouth feels on me, but nothing will ever beat your pussy” Joe said pulling me up from the floor and back to the bed. 

He lined himself up at my entrance and pushed in slowly, giving me a moment to adjust to his size. At my nod to continue, his pace picked up quickly, thrusting into me at a punishing rate. My hands reached around to his back, my nails digging in to ground myself somehow. This caused Joe to groan and throw his head back with pleasure.

“Think I didn’t notice how you reacted last night when we were talking about the mask? I could feel you getting flustered thinking about me just like this” Joe said, voice rough from exhaustion. 

His comment caused my head to spin, bringing out my own groan at his confession. I felt him adjust slightly, allowing a hand to grip onto my throat, squeezing slightly.

“That’s my girl, love my hand on your throat while I fuck you masked up” Joe said his pace faltering slightly, signaling that he was getting close too.

“Joe I-I’m so close” I whined, voice breaking from the pleasure I was feeling.

“Me too baby, cum around my cock for me yeah? I know you can do it” Joe praised, luring me closer to the edge.

With a few more hard thrusts, I felt myself all over the edge, screaming out Joe’s name without a care for who heard. I felt Joe finish shortly after, his body falling on me from sheer exhaustion.

We laid like that for a little, before Joe lifted his head, taking the mask off and meeting my eyes with his blue ones.

“Hi” I said, voice small after the acts that had just ensued. My shyness returning 

“Hey” Joe replied, placing a soft kiss to my lift. 

He got up, pulling out of me, eliciting a groan at the loss of contact with him. He walked off to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean me up. He left scattered tender kisses as he cleaned my skin, cleaning himself in the process and getting back in bed with me. He pulled me into his chest and placed a kiss on top of my head, letting myself fall into his warmth.

I spoke up, breaking the silence, “I think that was one of the kinkiest things we’ve ever done” following my statement with a breathy laugh.

Joe chuckled in agreeance, “you’ve been holding out on me apparently. Are there any other secret kinks I should know about?”

I blushed, tucking my head into his embrace further. “Maybe that’s something we can explore together”.

“I’m definitely down for that”.

Thank you so much for reading, please send in any requests or comments. I hope you enjoyed!

[munsonsmixtapes]

As You Wish

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you and Eddie meet at Robin’s Halloween party and realize that you’re dressed up as a couple

based on this request!

Eddie was convinced that he didn’t believe in love at first sight, but the second you walked through the door to Robin’s apartment, he was beginning to think that his mind was changed.

You looked absolutely breathtaking in your Buttercup costume and he was realizing that you were the new friend that Robin had made at work. The one she had gabbed about endlessly, always wanting to make it clear to Eddie you were very pretty and very single.

That was always something that his friends told him and faster many failed dates, he had revoked all of their setting up privileges. But this time…this time maybe he’d let it slide.

He turned away from you when you approached the snack table where he and the other three in his group had been standing. He wanted to remain cool and mysterious even though he knew that he was nothing of the sort. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been chronically single.

“And who might you be?” You asked and Robin patted Eddie on the shoulder to let him know that you were speaking to him. He whipped around, knocking over the bowl of chips in front of him in the process and was grateful that a mask was covering most of his face because it hid his blush.

He was quick to drop to the floor to scoop the chips back into the bowl and was so focused on what he was doing that he hadn’t even been aware that anyone had been helping him until a hand brushed his.

Eddie looked up slowly to see your eyes looking into his, a warm smile on your lips. His gaze shifted to your hands to see m that they were full of chip crumbs that you were picking up from the floor and he was about to thank you, the words on the tip of his tongue, but you had somehow rendered the man who never shut up speechless.

“I-“ he started, but his mouth was now dry and he was suddenly very aware of how hot his costume was. Jesus, he really needed a glass of water.

“Yeah?” You asked, your voice so gentle and he appreciated that you were being so patient with him. A lot of women he had come across would have made fun of him, but you didn’t. You had even gone as far as helping him clean up the mess he had made.

“D-“ he cut himself off again, not entirely sure what he was trying to say. He was blowing his shot at getting a date without and he hadn’t even said anything yet.

You gathered the rest of the chips into the bowl and then stood, offering him your hand and he took it, letting you help to his feet.

“Well, look at that,” you smiled as you got the full view of his costume. “It seems we’ve somehow dressed up as a couple.” You let out a chuckle and Eddie swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

Your words finally registered in his brain and he looked down at his costume before looking at yours, seeing that the two of you actually did look like a couple and that made him feel even more sweaty than he was previously. What were you doing to him?

“Guess it’s fate,” you added with a wink and the man thought he was going to die right there.

“G-guess so,” he was finally able to get out and your smile widened at his agreement. Robin had told you that he was cute and she had been right, at least, you thought she had been even though you couldn’t see most of his face. And you thought his clumsiness was adorable. Most men you had come across had been cocky or way too confident so it was refreshing to see someone who wasn’t.

And his costume was impressive, so close to the one that Westley had worn in the movie and you wondered how much he paid to have it made. Surely something custom like that had to cost a pretty penny. Yours had just come from items you already had in your closet and you were lucky just how accurate everything looked.

“I really love your costume,” you complimented and you watched what you could see of Eddie’s cheeks turn bright pink. “Where did you get it?”

“I um-I made it,” he replied, stepping closer to the table to grab his bottle of beer that he had left sitting there. He took a sip, watching your face the entire time, gauging your face for any negative reaction. How many times had he told a girl that he made his own cosplay costumes only to be met by grimaces? It was all so exhausting to try to put on a facade, to pretend to be someone else and he was tired of it. That was why he had stopped putting himself out there, why he decided that it was better to be by himself.

But your face lit up as soon as the words left his mouth, fascination written all over it and the man swore he was dreaming for a second.

“You made this?” You asked, your beautiful smile getting even brighter. “That’s fucking awesome!” You were now grinning and Eddie resisted the urge to clean out his ears or make you repeat yourself.

“I did,” he nodded, your smile feeling infectious as one spread across his own lips. “I um-“ he cut himself off, but then thought he should continue, deciding that you were a safe space for him. “I make costumes all the time. I love to cosplay.”

Now you were beginning to understand why Robin was trying to set the two of you up. Not only had she probably (definitely) known that you two were going to coincidentally dress up as a couple, but she also knew that you both were into cosplay.

“Me too!”

“Now you’re just pulling my leg.”

“No, seriously, I’ll have to show you my photo album sometime.” Sometime as in…were you setting up a date?

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” you nodded. “Do you want to get a drink-oh-you already have one.” Eddie took another sip of his beer and realized that the bottle was in fact empty.

“Empty,” he held up the bottle and you nodded, feeling a shy smile appear on your cheeks that were starting to burn.

“Let’s go, then,” you held your hand out and Eddie took it without hesitation, letting you lead him into the kitchen for another drink.

“As you wish,” he responded with a smile as he looked down at your entwined fingers, subconsciously letting the pad of his thumb rub along your knuckles gently as he followed you, wondering what the hell he had done to deserve you.

You spent the rest of the night side by side on Robin’s couch, drinking and laughing with the rest of the group. And when the party came to a close and the two of you went down to where you had parked, you exchanged numbers, deciding that maybe Robin did know what she was talking about in regards to setting the two of you up.

[sutorus]

✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS

DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe

FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!

A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys

GOJO SATORU

has way too many hoes. way too many

so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”

has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper

says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it

throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you

takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad

pays for your ubers everywhere every time

into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed

lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further

very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d

gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something

fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!

GETO SUGURU

keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience

too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck

even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble

answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers

he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(

cleans you up after sex and brings you water

has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag

lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you

never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy

genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky

in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are

not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you

likes to make you cum over and over and over again

fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it

NANAMI KENTO

a professional in every sense of the word

uses sex as stress relief

thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you

invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up

can actually have very nice conversations with you

never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship

lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics

does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”

texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is

gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to

eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you

the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot

has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings

fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right

FUSHIGURO TOJI

broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him

absolutely nasty sex

you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you

dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom

wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity

eats his cum right out of you

ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles

loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep

doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics

has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why

has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after

no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit

loves it if you cry on his dick

doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own

has never told you his last name

one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes

fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much

a/n sorry

[clarii]

Pretty Girl

Summary: After months of teasing and playful banter, Eddie Munson finally reveals his true feelings for the reader. What starts as typical teasing with his affectionate nickname, “pretty girl,” soon turns into something much deeper. Everything gets revealed on New Year’s Eve.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Author’s Note: I wanted to thank you guys for the love by publishing a story connecting with New Year’s Eve in a way. Also, the last phrase had me thinking about High School Musical (if you know, you know).

It was just another regular day at Family Video, the hum of the fluorescent lights and the smell of popcorn from the break room filling the space. You were shelving some newly returned movies when you heard the door’s familiar jingle. You didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

Eddie Munson.

You had worked here for months, and every time Eddie came in, it was the same routine. He’d walk in with his usual dramatic flair—his leather jacket hanging loosely around his shoulders, his wild hair a little more out of place than usual—and head straight for the counter, grinning like he had a secret.

You didn’t mind, though. Eddie was a good friend, and you’d grown used to his antics. That’s why you couldn’t help but smirk when he called out to you across the store.

“Hey, pretty girl!” His voice rang through the aisles as he casually walked toward you, his eyes locking with yours.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile. “Hey, Munson,” you called back, continuing your work. “What’s the deal? Come to rent the latest slasher flick again?”

Eddie leaned against the counter, his eyes not leaving you for a second. “Nah, I’m here for more than just the movies.” He gave a little wink. “But I’ll take something to pass the time.”

You raised an eyebrow, holding back a chuckle. “You’re always here for something else,” you teased, your voice light. “Got any new drama to share?”

Eddie pushed himself off the counter and walked over to one of the shelves, pretending to browse the titles, though you could tell he wasn’t really looking for anything. “Just the usual chaos. You know, the kind that makes life a lot more interesting.”

His tone was playful, but there was a hint of something else in his voice. Something softer. You caught it but brushed it off. It was Eddie, after all—always a little too loud, always joking, always teasing.

He paused in front of a horror movie box, turning to face you, a grin on his face. “By the way, you look extra cute today. What’s the occasion?”

You froze, your fingers momentarily pausing in the middle of organizing. “What, now you’re complimenting me?” you asked, your tone light but trying to cover up the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Eddie just leaned in a little, his voice quieter, his eyes softer than before. “I mean it, pretty girl. You always look good, but today… damn, you’re really shining.”

You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks, and you quickly shifted the conversation. “Just doing my job, Eddie,” you said, shuffling some DVDs around to distract yourself.

Eddie chuckled, walking away to grab a movie. “Whatever you say, pretty girl.” He shot you one last grin before heading to the counter to check out.

Steve and Robin, who were manning the counter together, exchanged a knowing glance as Eddie left. You could tell they were waiting for you to say something, but you just shrugged it off.

“Don’t even start,” you said, rolling your eyes.

Steve leaned on the counter, his smirk not even trying to hide itself. “What’s up with him calling you that? He never calls anyone ‘pretty girl.’”

Robin chimed in, her voice teasing. “Yeah, what’s going on? Is there something you two aren’t telling us?”

You could feel your cheeks burning, but you laughed it off. “It’s nothing. It’s just Eddie being Eddie. He calls everyone weird pet names. He’s harmless, trust me.”

Steve didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. Robin, however, was eyeing you carefully, clearly still a little skeptical.

“Whatever you say,” she said, but there was an underlying tone of curiosity in her voice.

The next day at school, you tried to shake off the awkwardness from last night. But it didn’t help that every time you saw Eddie, your heart skipped a beat. As you walked through the halls of Hawkins High, you heard that familiar voice call your name.

“Hey, pretty girl!”

You turned around, and there he was again—Eddie, standing a few feet away, leaning against the lockers with that same devil-may-care grin on his face. Your stomach flipped.

“Can’t you just call me my name like a normal person?” you joked, trying to mask the warmth creeping up your neck.

Eddie laughed, pushing off the lockers and walking toward you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. “Where’s the fun in that?” His voice was light and teasing, but you noticed the slight softness in his expression as he reached you.

“You doing anything fun after school?” he asked casually, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than usual.

You shrugged, trying to ignore the way your heart was beating faster than usual. “I don’t know. Probably just hang out, catch up on homework.” You tried to keep your tone casual, but something in Eddie’s smile made you feel like he could see right through you.

He took a step closer, his grin widening. “Well, I was thinking of hitting up the arcade with the gang later. You should come.”

You hesitated, a part of you wanting to brush it off, but another part of you—one that you tried to ignore—wanted to say yes.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. “I’ll think about it.”

Eddie’s grin softened, and he leaned down a little, his voice lowering. “Alright, pretty girl. Just know the invitation’s always open.”

That night, the gang—Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Erica, Steve, Robin, Eddie, and you—were all at the arcade, the familiar noise of flashing lights and game sounds filling the air. You were having fun, laughing with everyone, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Eddie was paying a little extra attention to you. He kept leaning in close, making sure his hand brushed against yours when he passed you the soda, shooting you that same playful grin.

“Hey, pretty girl, you wanna go for the high score on this one?” Eddie called over to you as he stepped up to the pinball machine, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. “You know I’ll beat you, right?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.”

You were starting to feel the weight of those words. The teasing, the smiles, the way he would call you “pretty girl” so casually—it wasn’t just joking anymore. You could tell he meant it, but you still weren’t sure what that meant.

Just before midnight, everyone gathered at the Wheeler’s house to get ready for the New Year. Music was playing, everyone chatting about the year gone by, but your mind kept drifting back to Eddie. He was sitting next to you, his knee brushing against yours, his usual teasing smile softened into something warmer.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Eddie murmured quietly, his voice low and almost shy as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “May I have a kiss?”

Your heart stopped. You froze, unsure of how to respond. This wasn’t like the usual teasing. This wasn’t just Eddie being Eddie. There was sincerity in his voice, a softness that you couldn’t ignore.

You swallowed hard, your nerves kicking into high gear. “I thought you were just messing with me,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Eddie smiled gently, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I’m not. I’ve meant it for a while now.”

Your breath hitched as the realization sank in. All those times he had called you “pretty girl,” the teasing, the little moments of closeness—it wasn’t just a joke. Eddie had been serious, and you had missed it.

Without saying another word, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss, the world around you fading away.

The kiss had left you breathless, your heart racing as you pulled away, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in everything. Eddie’s gaze never left you, his expression soft and filled with that same warmth you hadn’t noticed before. His hand, still lingering near your cheek, brushed your hair back as though it were a natural thing to do. But the world around you felt like it had gone still, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, suspended moment.

“Pretty girl,” Eddie whispered again, his voice a little more hushed now. “I’ve been waiting to do that for so long.”

You blinked, trying to find the words to respond, but they got stuck in your throat.

You felt a gentle pressure on your hand as Eddie, sensing your hesitation, took your fingers in his, his grip firm but not forceful. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a silent reassurance.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked softly, his eyes searching yours, as though he were afraid that maybe he’d made a mistake.

You nodded slowly, still processing everything. 

Before you could speak, the sound of voices from the rest of the group interrupted, pulling you both back to the present. The kids were huddled together near the TV, Steve and Robin not far off, watching the countdown to the new year.

“Well, looks like everyone’s about to make their New Year’s resolutions,” you said with a small smile, trying to shift your focus. But Eddie’s gaze didn’t leave yours.

“Pretty girl,” he murmured again, his voice filled with affection, “you’ve already got me making my resolution. Just you.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth spread through you again. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

Eddie grinned, leaning in just a bit closer, his lips brushing your ear. “Hopelessly in love with you, pretty girl.”

Your heart skipped at the words, but before you could respond, the countdown began, and everyone around you started to cheer. The noise around you rose as the ball dropped, the sound of “Happy New Year!” ringing in your ears.

“Three… two… one!”

And just as the clock struck midnight, you found yourself pulled into another kiss—this time, longer, more confident, and filled with something deeper than just the spark of the new year. You could feel Eddie’s heart beating against yours, his hand resting gently on your waist as you kissed him back, your nerves dissipating with every passing second.

When you pulled back, your foreheads touched, both of you breathing heavily from the kiss, but smiling widely. “Happy New Year, pretty girl,” Eddie whispered, his voice low and filled with meaning.

“I love you too. Happy New Year, Eddie,” you replied softly, the words carrying a weight you hadn’t expected, a promise that maybe this was more than just a new year—it was the start of something new.

[loveluvrs]

she's my pretty girl l lando norris x reader

request/summary – AHH HI MARYAM!!! it's shelbi:) i NEED a lando fic where he takes reader to the paddock for the first time and EVERYONE sees they totally like each other (but they complete oblivious idiots) — 🌟

author's notes – i loved writing this one!!! thank you to bff @keerysfreckles for the wonderful req <33 ALSO LANDO SPRINT POLE WOOOOO!!!!!

My fingers hover over the send button. I sigh as I delete the message again. Lan, I don’t know if I can. There’s gonna be so many cameras and so many people and you know people will think we’re dating for sure, I text my best friend Lando.

Come on, pretty girl, I’ll be right there with you the whole time. I promise, he texts back.

:(( come over tonight for movie night and we’ll talk about it, I text as I felt the anxiety already growing in me.

Lando helps me set up movie night. Popcorn bowl in hand, I slot myself next to Lando, our hips touching as I slightly lean into him, placing the bowl in between us. “Time to talk?” He asks expectantly. I groan. “Oh come on, let me at least distract myself for a little bit before we start this headache of a discussion again,” I say as I scrunch up my face in playful annoyance. Lando laughs at this, placing a small kiss on the tip of my nose as he says, “okay miss dramatic.” 

I pout. “Lan, you know how my anxiety gets. And that’s just in general. With all those cameras on me? I mean, it’s gonna be suffocating,” I say with a nervous gulp. Just thinking about all the attention made me anxious.

He puts on a soft smile. “I know, pretty girl. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I just know you’ve been really wanting to go to a race, and I thought what better time than here in Silverstone so you don’t have to take any extra flights? But really, I won’t make you go unless you’re comfortable with it, alright?” He says softly with 100% focus and attention and determination in his voice. That was one thing I could always count on; if I was feeling anxious about something, no matter how small, Lando would be there to take me seriously and comfort me through it. 

“I want to be there for you, you know I do,” I say softly with a frown, “there’s nothing I want to do more than support my best friend, my favorite person, at his home race.” 

“Pretty pretty girl, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I understand, okay? And I won’t think anything less of you based on whether or not you come. I’ll still love you all the same,” he says softly as he puts my hand in his and squeezes it to comfort me. 

——

The next morning, I showed up to the paddock a little late, since I had to curb an oncoming anxiety attack in the morning. I also hadn’t told Lando that I was going to be coming, so I had no idea where to go. By the time I reached, Lando was already in the car for the first practice session. 

After the practice session was over, Lando stalked back into the Mclaren garage, talking with his race engineer about some of the data they picked up. He stops in his tracks when he sees me and immediately engulfs me in a hug. His hands wrap around my waist and my arms wrap around his neck. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you decided to come?” He says with his signature bright smile as he held me close. I hum. “I was just a bit late in the morning, sorry about that,” I say softly. “Nothing to be sorry about, pretty girl,” he says softly as he places a soft kiss on the top of my head before letting me go. 

Since that moment, unless he was in a team meeting or in the car, Lando stayed attached by the hip to you. You couldn’t decide if it was comforting or overwhelming, to be honest. On one hand, he made sure to be there so he could explain everything to you and introduce you to everyone, and whisk you away when he felt like it was getting all too much for you. On the other hand, his presence meant a herd of cameras would almost surely follow my every move if I was with him. 

Oscar, for one, got a bit tired of the fact that every time he saw his teammate, Lando was too busy making heart eyes at you to even think about anything else. “Why don’t you just admit you’re madly in love with her?” He asks Lando with an exasperated sigh after the two of them are walking back from a media briefing. 

“She knows I love her,” Lando says casually. Oscar rolls his eyes and scoffs at the response. “Okay she knows you love her, but she doesn’t know you’re in love with her,” he explains. Lando gives Oscar a confused look. “Mate, you’ve just said the same thing twice,” he says as his eyes begin to scan the crowd for you. Oscar groans before walking off in frustration, wondering when on Earth these two idiots were gonna realize they’re both in love with each other. 

Later that evening, Lando and I walk into his hotel room after he was done with everything for the day. I lay down in the bed immediately, exhausted from all the socializing I had to do all day. Lando laughs at this, “sleepyhead,” he teases in a murmur. He takes a quick shower and changes into a comfy hoodie and sweats before coming back and laying on the bed next to me. I’m sat watching some spy movie on the tv. He tilts his head at the tv, “what’re you watching?” He asks curiously. 

“Honestly, no idea,” I say with a giggle, “I just saw that Theo James was in it so I had to watch.” Lando settles into bed as we watch. Eventually, he finds my gaze on him and his lap, which was clearly not as subtle as I wanted it to be. He nudges me playfully with his elbow. “C’mere,” he says softly as he pats his lap. I, who was clearly in my own thoughts, seemed to wake up out of my trance. “Huh?” I ask in confusion. He holds his arms wide for me, “come here and cuddle,” he says softly.

I waste no time before doing as he says, laying in between his legs, my back to his chest. His arms wrap around my waist and he places a soft kiss on my head. I hum in content as I relax into him. Lando always knew when I needed some physical affection, which was useful because there was nothing I hated more than having to ask for some love. “I love you,” he whispers as his face burrows into my neck, placing a kiss there. I’m about to respond when Oscar suddenly enters the room. “Hey mate, have you seen my- uh. Sorry, am I interrupting something here?” He asks as his eyes dart between Lando and I, and the extremely close position we seem to be in. 

“Nope! Just cuddling. What’s up?” Lando asks nonchalantly. Oscar’s eyebrows raise at Lando’s answer. “You know what, never mind, I think I know where I’ve left it,” he says as he slowly backs out of the room. 

“What was that all about?” I ask in confusion. “Hmm, who knows, he’s been acting weird all day,” Lando says as he resumes placing kisses on my neck and shoulder. “I love you,” he repeats again in a gentle tone. I hum. “I love you too,” I say softly. “I’m so insanely happy you decided to come to the paddock today, honestly,” he says in a quiet yet soft murmur, “don’t think I could be any happier than having my pretty girl with me.” “Why are you trying to flatter me?” I tease him with a giggle. He scoffs, “sorry. Didn’t know I couldn’t be nice to my best friend,” he retorts playfully.  

We go out for dinner an hour later with Oscar and Lily. I instinctively sat next to Lando as usual. I’m scrolling through Twitter while we wait for our food when I feel Lando’s hand intertwine with mine. I think nothing of it, but see Oscar and Lily exchange a glance towards each other. 

“You owe me 5 pounds,” Oscar whispered in a hushed voice to Lily with a sassy smile tugging on his lips. “No, you said 5 pounds for the heart eyes,” Lily whispers back defensively. “Oh come on, that’s basically the same thing! It’ll happen in a few minutes anyways,” Oscar whispers playfully. “I so badly wanted us to be proven wrong and for something to happen,” Lily says quietly to Oscar in a sympathetic voice. “They’re both idiots, I don’t think either of them will figure it out,” he says with a laugh. 

The laugh catches both Lando and I’s attention as we look up from our phones. “Hmm? Did you two say anything to us?” Lando asks curiously. “Oh, uh no. Don’t worry about it,” Oscar says with an embarrassed smile. The rest of the night goes by with hushed remarks from Oscar every once in a while every time Lando does something like giving me some of his own dish since my portion size was small, or when he asks if I’m okay after I drop the fork under the table and hit my head on the table when I try sitting back up, or when he just simply listens to me like I’m the only person in the room. 

——

“You’ve been staring at her for five minutes now,” Oscar says as Lando stares at you from across the paddock as you talk to Lewis. “Shut up,” Lando mutters as he tries to sound annoyed by utterly fails because he could never be annoyed while you were in his line of sight. 

I walk up to him a minute later, a bright smile on my face. “Guess what!” I say excitedly as Lando’s hand instinctively wraps around my waist. He hums. “Tell me what’s got you all happy, pretty girl,” he says with a soft smile.

“Lewis said that he’d take me out tonight to visit that new café I was telling you about, remember?” I say excitedly. Lando immediately frowns. “Lewis? Why didn’t you ask me to take you there?” He asks as he tries to not let his jealousy show. “Well I know you aren’t really into that type of thing, I looked at the menu and you wouldn’t have eaten anything there,” I say casually. 

“Well still. I don’t care. I’m coming with,” Lando said with a tone of finality. Suddenly Oscar started speaking. “Guys did you know theres a new movie coming out with Zendaya? The Jealous Man?” He says with a look towards Lando. Lando took the hint with an unamused expression on his face. “You know what? I think I’ve got a team thing tonight, so I’ll have to skip out. Sorry pretty girl, but have fun with Lewis, hmm?” He says softly. “You sure? We can wait for you if you want,” I say softly, not wanting Lando to miss out if he wanted to go. Lando shakes his head. “Nah nah nah, even if you wait, I’d be far too tired later,” I says as he takes my hand in his. 

——

Lando sat staring at his phone while he sits in his hotel room’s bed. He had tried everything to keep him occupied; working out, eating, the sim, talking to Oscar, facetiming Max, but nothing could keep his mind off of the thought of you and Lewis together. He groans as he caves in, texting you. 

pretty girlllllllllll, where are you? I miss you :(, he texts with clear desperation in his text. 

hi! Lewis and I are gonna go for a walk on the beach before heading back. Is that okay? I text, not wanting him to feel too lonely while I was gone. 

Lando sighed at my message. yeah don’t worry, pretty girl, have fun, he texts back, I love you. 

When I finally get back to the hotel, I’m exhausted. I kick off my shoes to find Lando already asleep. I get changed into some sweats and lie next to him. “Lan?” I whisper softly, “‘m sorry I was late, I know you missed me.” I sighed when I got no reply back, so I simply scooted towards him, my arms wrapping around him from behind. “I love you,” I whispered into the dark. I heard a slight grumble afterwards. “Love you too,” came a murmur from Lando. 

The next morning I met Lando and Oscar at the paddock before qualifying, but Lando seemed a bit distant. So I went up to him while he was talking to Oscar

“Are you mad I went out to spend time with Lewis instead of you last night?” I ask Lando in a quiet voice with a frown on my face.

Lando turned around to face me. “Oh, pretty girl, I could never be mad at you,” he says as his voice softens, “I love you. Just missed you, that’s all.” “You’ve been ignoring me this whole morning,” I say as my frown deepens. His entire body deflates at the sight of your frown. “No no no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to. Sorry if it felt like that,” he says softly as his hands wrap around my waist to give me a hug. “Love you,” he murmurs into my hair, “I promise.” 

Oscar rolls his eyes at the scene with an amused laugh. “Heart eyes, five pounds,” he mouths behind Lando, knowing that Lando would have melted the second you came into view. 

“God, these two will stay idiots forever,” Oscar muttered under his breath with a laugh as he looked at the very obviously love-stricken pair in front of him. 

[salfishermustdie]

sal fisher headcanons

i've literally never been so horrendously down bad for a character before.. so i HAD to share my head canons for sal :3

CW: NSFW AHEAD!!

fluff <3

♡ he would try to teach you guitar, even if you arent very good at it...

♡ if you have sh scars, he'd kiss them over and over and over again, no matter where they are

♡ blushes over everything you do, any little touch you give him, he gets flustered over

♡ "ummmmm... uhh- i- well.. umm"

♡ he loves giving you things. for whatever reason, he's always gifting you small trinkets to show his love for you. his favorite excuse for buying you something is "it reminded me of you!"

♡ not the kinda guy who goes for looks. no matter how 'ugly' you think you are, he'll wholeheartedly see you as the most beautiful person in the world.

♡ with that being said.. he'd definitely stop in his tracks if he saw a cutie :3

♡ (IT'S YOU, YOU'RE THE CUTIE. EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS HIS TYPE. GOD, HOW ARE YOU SO PERFECT FOR HIM??)

♡ if you ever mention something in a conversation (a band you like, a cool movie you just watched or a book you read, etc.) he's definitely going home and learning all he can about it.

♡ wholesome romance like those in the romcom movies

♡ "i love everybody because i love you" /ref /ly

♡ would totally let you paint his nails, do his hair, anything like that. he loves when you make him feel pretty <3

♡ doesn't want anyone to know this, but he loves wearing your clothes. like, you know the whole "wearing you bf's jacket/hoodie" thing? that's what he wants, but with your clothes.

♡ obviously he won't deny you his hoodie, but deep down he's waiting for you to give him yours

♡ LOVES giving long, deep, passionate hugs. hugs and cuddle sessions that can go on for an hour. he loves squeezing you against him, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside; being so close to someone he loves so much

♡ he WILL sniff you. he can't get enough of your scent. at first he was scared you would think it was weird, but now he does it freely. he's a very sensual person, and because of his disability (possibly impaired sight?), he often relies on his other senses to soak up every little piece of you.

♡ he loves wrapping you in his arms, cradling and comforting you if he knows you need it.

♡ he's excellent at reading you. he feels like he knows you best. despite being someone who can't really show his emotions through his expressions, he's amazing at reading yours.

♡ you don't even have to tell him anythings wrong. he knows when you need a hug.

nsfw :3

♡ definitely has a mommy kink. argue with the wall.

♡ it just slipped out one day.. you were riding him, making him feel good and warm, and all of a sudden he let out a small "m-mommy..!"

♡ that being said, he LOVES having you on top of him

♡ while you're straddling him, he grabs you by your hips to make sure you're not going anywhere

♡ very shy + whimpering mess

♡ the kind to not know where to put his hands

♡ that doesn't mean he sometimes doesn't have a dom side to him...

♡ he's definitely a giver. he prioritizes your pleasure before his own

♡ he's insecure about his ability to turn you on, make you cum, etc. he always tries his hardest to make you feel good, and lets just say it always works :3

♡ jerks off to the thought of you more than he would like to admit

♡ has a VERY vivid imagination.

♡ oh god the things he thinks about doing to you are almost to embarrassing for him to admit

♡ very sweet and loving the whole time. he's huge on praise, and would rather die than ever make you uncomfortable. your sessions are filled with millions of

"are you liking that?" "you're doing so good for me." "are you okay with this?" "you feel amazing (y/n)"

♡ he needs 100% confirmation on your dirty suggestions. you could make a hint, but won't act on it until he's absolutely sure you mean it (obviously you always do, but god is this boy insecure.)

♡ doesn't seem like it, but will fuck you like a rabbit. it's always the quiet, sweet boys who are the dirtiest behind closed doors :3

♡ likes being bitten. idk. idc. IDGAF.

[irndad]

Hi hun! I just love love love your pieces <3

As for Carmy prompts - could we have some hurt to comfort when Carmen doesn't show up for a date? It's ok if you dont wanna do it or i requested incorrectly, but if you do, i cant wait to read!!!!! Thank you so much mwah mwah mwah

I’m not thaaaaaat sure how I feel about this and it’s so long but your request was so sweet I had to!!! Ily <3333

wc:1.1k

There’s so fucking much in his ear. Fak’s screaming whatever bullshit he’s sure will help absolutely nothing, Richie’s harassing Sydney and Tina’s trying to keep them all in line and will of that goddamn chaos, he shouldn’t be able to make out anything.

Prepping this whole thing, the opening, Richie biting his head off for fucking sending him to the best kitchen in the city- it’s all a bit fucking much.

He barely hears the door open (she has a key, because of course she does) and he doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he calls out her name.

“Hey, baby,” he yells back towards the entrance. It feels good, chopping the vegetables. It’s actually one of her favorite dishes that he’s making, and something inside him preens that he gets to feed her tonight. Everything feels illustrious under her gaze. He remembers the first time he’d cooked for her, how her watchful gaze felt a bit like sunlight; equal parts burning and doused in light.

She’d said she liked his hands, then. Said he looked pretty with a knife and a cutting board. “Will you try this sauce for me?”

He hears her heels click, the soft thud of her purse landing on the couch. It’s a slow saunter she does to him, but he’s razor focused- what does it need, garlic? Oregano?

It only breaks when he sees her. And she looks gorgeous. Wearing a black dress with a cowl neck, shimmery eyeshadow that catches and dances in the low light of the kitchen, a crimson lipstick neatly applied to her beautiful pout.

She smells like vanilla, and Carmen has the privilege of knowing what real, rich, Madagascar vanilla smells like. He’d loved the scent so much that he’d bought her a perfume made from it, and there’s a warmth blooming in his chest when he realizes that she’s wearing it.

Wordlessly, she opens her mouth and leans forward to try the sauce covered wooden spoon he’d raised to her lips.

Even when she’s in front of him, he can’t believe she’s someone he knows. That she’s wasting her time with someone like him.

“Jesus Christ you look beautiful,” he says without thinking, and he kisses her quick. It’s true. She’s a vision, plucked out of an old movie shot on grainy film, warm to the touch film.

He abandons the spoon and the sauce without much fanfare, a rough, calloused hand meeting her soft warm cheek.

“Thanks, Carmen.” she says, but her doe-eyes deny the joy she typically exudes in his presence. It’s his proudest achievement, how she glows around him. She’s tight lipped, smile betraying her words.

“What’s wrong? Is it the sauce? I know it’s a mess in here, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d see it-“

“No! No, seriously, it’s okay, honey.” She tries to insist but it really doesn’t work. He moves the pot off the burner and twists himself completely to face her, placing a gentle hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He tries not to let it sting, how she stiffens for a moment before softening again.

“What happened?” He asks again.

“It’s the first,” she says, a rueful grin on her pretty lips, before gesturing down at her outfit, and oh.

The dinner. The fucking dinner that he’d promised her. His sweet girl, who waited up every night, who dutifully tasted every recipe, who soothed him on nights where nightmares stole his sleep-

“Fuck,” he says, more to himself than her, but god, he can’t stop looking at her, “Fuck! God, I’m such an asshole, I’m so sorry-“ he insists, suddenly so grateful that she’s letting him touch her, even more aware of every point of contact with the sudden fear that it could escape in a moment’s notice.

“Y’know, Carm, if you could’ve just told me that would’ve been one thing? But I left the reservation, and this was the one night we both had off!”

“I know, baby, fuck, I forgot-“

She backs away from him, and there’s a sick feeling in his stomach. Sitting on the chair he keeps by the stove (he put it there for her, because she loved watching him) she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“It’s just not fair, Carm. To either of us. If you don’t have time for this-“

“I have time for this! I have time. Don’t say things like that.”

“Carmy, I’m not trying to hurt you. You know that’s the last thing I want.”

And it is. It’s the last thing she wants, and Carmen fucking knows it. Knows that three months in he’s supposed to have brought her flowers and taken her out and done more than cook for her and spend hours in his shitty apartment, and lately she’s been asking if he has time for being in a relationship.

And maybe he doesn’t, but fuck it if he doesn’t feel like he can breathe around her. This was the point of the dinner- take her out, be a boyfriend. Have her wait a little while on him. Show her he’s worth it.

Instead he fucking missed it, stayed home and made sauce no one would even eat.

“I’m sorry,” he says, grabbing her hand and lacing it through his own. It always shocks him, how it fits his own. “Okay? I’m so, so fuckin’ sorry. Tell me what I can do. Tell me, cos I’ll do just about fuckin’ anything to get you to stop saying shit like that.”

Her voice comes out small.

“I was alone, Carm. They kept trying to take my order and you weren’t there, and eventually I had to leave.“

She looks up at him, eyes sparkling and kind and Carmen. She looks beautiful, and if he wasn’t with her, he’d see her in the street and hate whatever fuck was lucky enough to be who she got dressed up for.

“I am so, so sorry. It’s just with the stove, and Fak, and Richie fucking calling me to bitch me out every thirty seconds,” she reaches her delicate fingers to brush his cheek with concern, “I should’ve remembered. It’s just about the only thing this week worth remembering. And you look…stunning, I should’ve been there. I should’ve. Please.”

Her expression softens and he loves the sight of her, warm and kind and lovely in both form and temperance. She’s so patient with him, responds with kindness- a gift.

She brushes her soft lips on his cheek and he tries to savor the sensation, note how warm and wonderful it is to have her form pressed against his, how her arms knot themselves around his waist.

“I know you’re stressed, babe,” she murmurs against his cheek, eyes shut, “tell you what. Why don’t you make me something better than what that place could’ve, huh?”

After he kisses her for so long that excess is no longer the right terminology, he makes her the best pasta she’s ever had in her goddamn life.

It’s better this way, anyway. She’s gorgeous in a way that’s just his to look at tonight.