#Aww.. I mean. Cool. Yeah

[underskz]

➪ ‘TIL NEXT TUESDAY

➪ mark lee x cisfem!reader ✩ w.c 8.5k — NSFW ✩ 18+ minors dni —

✰ NON-IDOL AU

pov: you're a camgirl with a secret admirer who's a little (okay maybe a lot) obsessed

note: y'all do not understand the pain,,, the struggle,,,, the trauma that this fic has inflicted upon me <//3 i quite literally started writing it last year on mark lees stupid lil bday and have been typing away at it for so mf long and have had to dig into the deepest filthiest depths of my brain to finally finish this,,,,, anyways welcome to my twisted mind and we can all blame mark lee my greatest enemy,,,, i hate u… anyways pls make note of the warnings !!! btw don’t ask me what website they’re using idk i couldn’t be fcked to think that hard

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, aka smut, obsessive behavior, viscerally lewd comments, uh lying LOL, wolf in sheep’s clothing energy (good church boy mark lee and his hidden demons <3), honestly both reader and mark r freaky (aww they match each others freaks!), readers thinly veiled shame kink, unsafe sex/no condom, barely any prep lol, not beta read bc im a full send girl (sorry for any typos etc LMAO)

There’s clearly something wrong with user ‘66golden_boy99’ and you can’t quite figure it out. Sure, he seems to be just another fan of your work. And maybe his comments tended to be on the imaginative side.

i wanna dick you down til next tuesday

stuff your guts this thursday and stay buried in you thru the weekend

til youre cryin to me about how you can feel my dick in your throat

how pretty would you cry for me?

That little voice in the back of your head whispers (the one that sounds far too much like Donghyuck), an annoying little I told you so, someone was bound to get obsessed. It wasn’t like you never considered or even feared the possibility. 

But these comments, this person, there was something there. You click into a different video, scrolling down to a specific cluster of comments.

i wanna ruin you so fuckin bad

ruin that pussy for anyone else

wanna hear you beg me to stop 

until it turns into begging me for more

sound fun sweetheart?

Every video, every clip, every single little teaser you post; there’s a thread from him. His stupid username right there, ‘66golden_boy99’ and a digital paper trail that ranges from being unforgivably horny to borderline demented and most of the time a combination of both. 

fuck if i could keep you in a little cage…

i’d fuck u every day all day

turn you into my perfect little pet

made just for my cock

don’t you want that too?

You can’t help but let your mouth gape at that one, a cage? Your head spins at the thought, trying (and failing) to not let your imagination wander.

There’s a certain thrill that crawls down your spine, twisting itself deep into your gut and lodging itself there. An ache that just you can’t quite itch yourself, barely sated by these comments. 

So yeah, there’s definitely something wrong with user ‘66golden_boy99’ but that could only mean there’s something wrong with you.

“Mark, read this! Isn’t it insane?” Donghyuck all but smacks him in the face with your phone.

“Oh! Um.” He immediately flushes, no doubt flustered by the nature of the comments along with the fact he’s one of your few friends who still gets a little red in the cheeks by your choice of profession. 

Good church boy Mark Lee at your service. Who thankfully plucks your phone from Donghyuck and passes it back to you— most likely to avoid further being subjected to such filth in broad daylight. 

“Don’t bust a tit Hyuck, it’s just some dude living out his freaky fantasy while hiding behind a screen.” You knew it was going to be brought up the moment you saw your friends, but you had hoped that Donghyuck would have the decency to not mention it while seated outside a popular cafe on a busy street.

Jokes on you for thinking he could keep his cool about this. The moment you had sent a screenshot to the group chat Donghyuck had been rearing for a fight, overly scandalized and always righteous whenever he thought his friends were being treated badly.

There was no way in hell you’d tell him those comments piqued your debased interest.

“It’s a little creepy.” Jungwoo settles on, stealing a blueberry off of your parfait. “He doesn’t message when you’re live though.”

“Nope, only comments on clips and videos.” You bite back your disappointment, maintaining an almost clinical tone.

“Does he even watch your streams?” Jungwoo questions as he attempts to swipe a strawberry this time, narrowly thwarted by you whacking his hand with your plastic spoon. 

“What difference does it make? He’s a fucking perv!” Donghyuck snipes.

The answer is yes, he does watch every single one of your streams. Occasionally donates too, yet no messages. No live interactions.

“Hyuck, my whole fanbase are pervs.” You ignore the glare of an elderly woman as she passes by your table. “When did you become such a prude?”

It’s enough of a jab to send the man into a fit, ranting and raving about how he’s perfectly freaky enough and that his boyfriend(s) is (are) so into how weird and kinky he could get. 

“Seriously though, is he scaring you?” Mark whispers, careful to not catch Donghyuck’s attention lest he starts laying into you about your “creepy” admirer again. Mark’s considerate like that.

For a moment you sit with the question, mindlessly spooning around your half eaten parfait. Were you scared? You knew full well you were bound to deal with the occasional creep when you decided to pursue camming as a full-time job after university. 

But you weren’t— aren’t scared, initially you had maybe been a bit unnerved. Yet you hadn’t shared the messages because you wanted your friends to “save” you or anything. More so because you were shocked by the sheer audacity and of course by what was being said.

If Donghyuck wasn’t so busy talking about getting spit roasted much to the horror of Jungwoo, he’d be pestering you for the answer too. And you would’ve lied, told him that you were a little nervous but nothing that’d keep you from carrying on as usual.

Instead you have Mark asking, no trace of judgment behind his thick rimmed glasses, just a curious glint with a healthy dash of concern for a friend.

“He’s not.” Is what ends up coming out. It’s simpler than the whole truth, cleaner as well. 

You couldn’t admit to one of your best friends that it sent a thrill down your spine, to have someone so obsessed they comment utter depravity on every post you make. That you’ve checked to make sure this mystery creep was watching your every stream. And that there’s nothing you’ve ever wanted more than to be craved so deeply, to be ached for, to be someone’s sole obsession. 

“If you do get freaked out or anything, uh understandably so, we’ll figure something out. I’ll beat him up?” Mark offers one of his dorky smiles, and despite his statement inspiring little hope — seriously Mark is way too sweet to ‘beat’ anyone up — you still appreciate the sentiment. Offering him a big spoonful of whipped cream and strawberries for his valiant statement.

“Hey! Why does Mark get fed and I have to fight for a crumb?” Jungwoo cries out only causing you to roll your eyes and spark even more outrage from him.

You're thankful that the rest of the outing goes on without another mention of a certain fan of yours. Though Mark seems to be shooting more indiscernible looks your way than usual, but that’s easy to chalk down as him just projecting his own anxieties onto you.

When you all start to bid farewell Donghyuck wastes a few minutes to preach about the dangers of internet strangers, while Jungwoo goads and teases him until his nagging is turned onto Jungwoo.

Again Mark offers comfort — though you really have no need for it, considering the fact you honestly are enjoying the debased behavior more than you maybe should — and you pretend to appreciate it.

needa fuck you over and over and over

til your pretty lil pussy is gaping open

so i can see the way i paint you up inside

wouldn’t you like that?

Yes, you dig your teeth into your bottom lip, fuck yes.

You had just posted a teaser for your next video, a simple reaction to some random threesome video your subscribers had begged you to watch. 

And as always without fail, only a few minutes after you’ve hit post your phone lights up with notifications from ‘66golden_boy99’. You should hate how much you look forward to it— how you’re practically gagging for it (him).

You remember his first thread of comments, remember the scandal that pumped through your veins as the words registered in your brain. 

The thrill.

well aren’t you a sweet thing

He had started it off so normally.

you look like you dont care for just any kind of fun

you look like u need to be fucked within an inch of your life

thrown around and violated like a stupid little toy

i could do that

It’s the only time he hadn’t ended with a question. The only statement needed to stake his claim, to solidify his place. 

It planted the seed right in your lust ridden mind, the growing need to see more and more. It becomes a sick little ritual, to go looking for his comments just after you tuck yourself into bed under the guise of resting for the day. 

You’re desperate enough to reread old ones, to stare at the same comments from days or even weeks ago. Sometimes he’ll throw you a bone, coming back to leave another thread of comments for you to find. 

wanna fill you up so bad

make you take it over and over and over

til my cum is dripping outta you for days

so that all that’s in your pretty head is the thought of my cock pumping you full

wanna make it happen?

Maybe it’s the way you’ve never replied to them, or even acknowledge them in a stream. It doesn’t deter him from continuing, his perverted dedication proving something to you. Something twisted and delicious and all too tempting.

need you so bad

just need to use you over and over and over and over so fuckin bad

turn you into my own pretty fleshlight to use whenever i please

just wanna use you all up baby

how much can you take?

Thursday streams are one of your three weekly streams, and while it had marginally less viewers therefore profit than your Friday and every other Saturday ones, it was by far your favorite.

The chat is far more relaxed, which means you have a better chance to interact with viewers, to have a more intimate stream.

It means you can instead sit at your desk, dressed in nothing but an oversized white tee, playing with your hair and batting your lashes. While making idle conversation as your viewers dutifully pay you compliments and donate small amounts as a hello.

66golden_boy99: hey there

“Oh? Golden boy? And here I was thinking you weren’t interested enough in having a live convo with me.” You wonder if he waited for this, a Thursday stream with an even lower than usual number of viewers to finally send his first message in chat. Was your little freak shy? Only able to sling his filth when nobody was paying attention?

Too late for that, he was in your sights now. 

66golden_boy99: nah just liked sitting here and watching you too much

“Is that so?” You feign distraction, looking off towards the side as you tap your chin thoughtfully. “But here I am, doing nothing. Isn’t that boring?”

There’s a flood of no’s in the chat, messages ranging from horny to sweet about how some like just chatting and others saying that you should at least take off your shirt.

“My shirt? It’s only been twenty-ish minutes since I’ve started and you all don’t wanna butter me up first? Tell me how pretty I am?” You’re accused of being a tease, which is of course your exact angle. Some of them bite, sending cooing comments about how they’d love to see your shirt off, some going as far as to send in a few dollars. 

$200 from 66golden_boy99

it’s okay sweetheart, show em what’ll be mine

Your jaw drops, because while he had tipped in the past, it was never this much. You can’t help the shiver that itches down your spine, ‘what’ll be mine’ he says, like he already has you in the bag.

“Aww you wanna see me that bad? Everyone say thank you to Golden Boy!” You goad, making a show of hooking your thumbs in the hem of your shirt. Slowly you drag the fabric across your flesh, inch by inch exposing how you truly had nothing under your flimsy excuse for clothing. 

66golden_boy99: and where’s your thank you?

“That’s right, you were so generous after all, I should give you a little treat to show my appreciation.” Again you flutter your lashes. “How do you want me?”

66golden_boy99: spreading your legs like a desperate slut

66golden_boy99: wanna see you fuck your fingers

66golden_boy99: cmon babe show off your perfect pussy and open yourself up for me

“Anything for you.” And maybe you’re a little fucked in the head for how much you mean it. 

You’ve never had a favorite before. Nobody in your chat, comments and so on have ever caught your attention. They’ve never bothered to be so interesting, to be so openly obsessed.

Slowly you let your hands wander, cupping your tits before letting your fingertips dance along your ribcage, inching down, down, down. 

You pathetically think of him, wonder who’s on the other side of the screen. It could be some old man, or some greasy incel, maybe it’s someone you’ve met on the street. It could be anyone, and it sickens you almost as much as it excites you.

Carefully, you plant your feet on the edge of your desk, sliding down a few inches in your chair as you spread nice and wide for the camera. 

“This what you want?” The words jumble in your mouth as your fingers continue to  find their way south. You dig your nails into your thighs, moaning loudly at the bite of them into your tender skin.

Shame was something that had long escaped you in this field of work, only the tastefully faked sense of it ever gracing you these days. But there’s that all too familiar burn crawling back into your chest after almost years of nothing. Scorching away at your insides as your fingers drag along your waiting pussy. 

You’re wet, you’re wet and it’s because of some fucking freak on the internet. Your eyes zero in on the chat, hoping to catch a comment from him.

66golden_boy99: fucking perfect for me always so good

It’s all you need to keep going, to let wanton moans tumble out left and right as your back arches into your own touch.

The sense of shame doesn’t diminish, doesn’t fade as you tease your clit and pump your fingers pitifully into your sopping cunt, loudly bemoaning the fact you didn’t grab a toy. 

66golden_boy99: you’ll cum just like this baby, no toys, just your fingers and wishing it was me instead

“Nnn- please.” It’s whiner than you’ve ever heard yourself, because goddammit you are wishing it was him. Old man be damned he had a wicked way of speaking, of sneaking into the dark recesses of your mind and ripping you open. Exposing a side of you that you’d long since buried, a side of you craving to be devoured wholly.

Pleasure snakes through your body, dropping down into your belly as you cum with a whimper. You make a show of bringing your fingers to your lips, tongue flicking out to taste yourself, that sick part of you hoping it makes him want you more. 

You slump against your chair, mindlessly answering chats as you fix yourself into a more comfortable position. You don’t bother looking for your shirt, letting your viewers enjoy watching your chest rise and fall in panting breaths, admire the way the sweat gleams on your skin.

You hope his eyes are glued to his screen. You hope you’re driving him absolutely insane.

“I fear I might be tapped out for the night, but don’t worry there’s always Sunday.” You manage to get out a real sentence, your brain still a little mushy from the post-orgasm haze. “Sweet dreams everyone!” 

You take a moment to let the chat fill with well wishes, a few more donations and scan for a message from one user in particular.  

66golden_boy99: good night sweet thing, dream of me

And oh, you just might. 

Ending streams were nothing special, just a click of a button and your privacy was all yours again. Leaving you with a plethora of thoughts, a tiny remnant of that formerly elusive shame and a craving for something or more accurately someone. 

Send a friend request to 66golden_boy99?

What did you have to lose? What did you have to gain? 

There’s a little angel on your shoulder in the shape of Donghyuck, your ever annoying moral compass, telling you to go shower and to never feed into this anonymous man’s delusions again.

While the little devil on your shoulder shaped like Yuta does nothing, sits there and smirks at you knowing full well you’ll choose his route. 

You always do. 

Sorry Hyuck.

Friend request sent!

Three days go by, no comments, no messages on stream, nothing. Absolute silence.

You can’t help yourself but watch each excruciating second tick by, waiting for something, anything from him. Three whole days of obsessively checking your phone, every social media tied to your occupation and nothing.

It’s like he up and fucking forgot about you. And maybe three days seems too short of a timeline to be losing it, but this is a man who has been all over your account — and notifications — for months.

And he gets scared off by a friend request. 

God, you should’ve known better than to trust Yuta, even if he was just a figment of your imagination at that moment. Though the real Yuta would’ve said the same thing anyway, therefore still making this whole ordeal his fault.

But as fun as blaming your friend and obsessing over whether your twisted little admirer would accept your request, let alone give you something to work with nowadays. It was driving you up the fucking wall. 

You need a distraction, and you need it badly.

Your usual and immediate reaction to having nothing to do and needing attention would be to ask Donghyuck to go out and do something stupid, but the lucky bastard was on vacation with his boyfriend(s?) probably getting fucked into the new year.

So you’re left to consider your options but Jungwoo is definitely still at work and Yuta just left to visit his family. And your other friends lived too far.

That only left you with Mark. God, you need more friends in close proximity. Not because you don’t like Mark, you adore the man if anything and still consider him one of your best friends. It's just that despite all the years of friendship the two of you just haven’t figured out how to quite mesh conversationally like the others. 

You need more spark, conviction. Mark Lee talks like a wet noodle came to life and decided to use ‘yo’, ‘dude’ and ‘woah’ on a permanent rotation. 

At least he’s a great listener.

And since he’s one of your closest friends nonetheless, he would have no problem with you coming over to eat his snacks and lounge on his couch while he works from home. 

So you shoot him a text.

TO: marky markmarkly sparkly can i cum over ;P 

FROM: marky markHaha sure dude! I told you stop spelling it like that > < 

TO: marky markprude be there in 10 want coffee ?

FROM: marky markSure! Caramel latte please :3 

He even texts like a good and innocent church boy. But he’s definitely had girlfriends, and that one boyfriend, so there’s no way he’s a virgin. Is it possible to be a blushing virgin in spirit and at heart?

“Hey beautiful, what can I get ya?” The barista’s stare is nothing short of sleazy, not even bothering to make eye contact as he tries to magically see through your clothing. 

“I’ll take a caramel latte, lemme double check what my boyfriend wanted, hmm just a regular coffee.” And okay it’s a little demeaning to Mark to switch your coffee orders in front of this greaseball. 

The boyfriend comment works well enough, if you take the guy opting to just stare at your ass as you walk out the door instead of bullying you for your number a win.

Thankfully Mark's apartment is just around the corner, and somehow you manage to key in the code not once but twice despite carrying two drinks.

“Marky! Coffee!” Immediately he comes tumbling down the hallway, eyes wide with confusion. His hair is sticking up in different directions, his glasses crooked and half-hanging off his face. His sweat stained white tee, and low hanging gray sweats only the cherry atop the homebody trainwreck sundae of a man before you.

“Hey, yo, shit! Uh dude!” He stops a few steps in front of you, scratching his head sheepishly. “I thought…you would take longer.”

“Do I look like Jungwoo? Or worse, Yuta?” You feign offense with a dramatic gasp. 

“Nah! Ha…ha, um come on in, it’s a fuckin’ mess but like you know, ‘m swamped with work and…”

You hand him his latte and push past him, barely batting an eye at the nightmarish state of his apartment. There’s mountains of paperwork and books stacked along the walls, empty food boxes, bags and wrappers scattered across the floor (along with any other available surface) and you’re trying desperately to not gag at the state of his kitchen.

“Johnny would clean?” You muse as you kick aside an empty pasta box. 

“Johnny would clean.” He sighs. Johnny, being Mark’s roommate, along with (one of) Donghyuck’s boyfriend(s???) is currently on vacation. On top of that, from what you've heard, he’s barely been at the apartment at all the past few months. Definitely too busy catering to every single one of Hyuck’s whims and dramatics.

“I could help?”

“Woah! I couldn’t ask you that, I made this mess on my own. I’ll clean it er.. eventually.” He gestures loosely.

“Mark Lee.” You muster up your best deadpan tone. “I’m so bored I’m gonna chew my own hand off, please let me help you clean your awfully disgusting apartment.” 

“That bad?” He snorts.

“I think that pile of dust moved on it’s own.” At least you’re hoping it’s a pile of dust and not some undiscovered rodent that thrives in the apartments of bachelors with piss poor cleaning habits.

“…I think you’re right. Hey um, lemme just shower and change, I think I’m just as gross as this place. We can clean together. So just…” He shoves aside the pile of laundry inhabiting the couch just enough to give you a place to sit. “Sit for a second?”

The poor guy looks like he’s on the brink of a meltdown, and if you didn’t know Mark as well as you do you would’ve called an ambulance. But he just always has that air around him, exhausted and overworked— but always smiling through it.

“I’m in no rush.” You pat his arm before taking a seat in the space he so generously carved out for you. The second Mark walks off to the bathroom you make yourself nice and comfortable, switching on the TV, straightening out some of the magazines and assorted papers on the coffee table. 

Mindlessly you even start folding some of the laundry next to you. The thought of taking pictures and sending them to Donghyuck so he could show Johnny just how far his roomie has fallen in his absence promptly interrupts your side task.

But to your dismay you find your phone is barely holding on by a few measly percentages. Looking around the living room you know there’s definitely no hope in trying to find a charger on your own. So instead you head off towards the bathroom, following the sound of the shower pouring down.

“Mark!” You knock harshly, hoping he can hear you okay. 

“Yeah?” His voice comes through clear, sounding only a little startled by your sudden presence.  

“Need to charge my phone!” 

There’s a moment of pause and you can only assume it’s because his room is so hellish he can’t even remember where he put the thing.

“By my bed!”

“Thanks!”

His room is actually better than the living room and kitchen, not by much, but still better. You navigate around the clothes and books strewn about the floor. Giggling at his wastebasket full of balled up tissues and a used up bottle of lotion, you definitely couldn’t wait to tell Donghyuck when he gets back. 

Making fun of Mark was an art, a beloved pastime of your friend group. And he always took it like a champ.

You plop down on his unmade bed, looking around for his charger. It’s half under the bed when you spot it, tugging the cord only for there to be a bit of resistance. Carefully you lower yourself to the floor, yanking at the charger and forcing Mark’s IPad to come flying at you.

“Shit!” It lands next to you face down on the hardwood and you pray to whatever gods that you haven’t cracked it. Slowly you pick it up, carefully flipping it over as you prepare yourself for the damage.

“Oh, my god.”

Because it’s not cracked, it’s not even locked, it’s still open to what Mark had been watching last to be exact.

One of your streams, one of your streams with you bent over one of your pillows, both holes stuffed with toys in the perfect position for the camera to see everything. It’s not even a new video, you haven’t done anything like that in months. 

There’s a blur in your vision as you shoot up, lightheaded from standing up straight so suddenly. A scorching heat begins to burn in your gut, creeping through your veins. 

You can still hear the shower going, and you know it must be wrong, to go through his private device like this but…it’s you. He’s been watching you, one of your most bible-thumping, prude-built friends who can barely look you in the eyes and blushes whenever you or your friends make dirty jokes, has been watching your debaucherous streams and has never said a word. 

Sure, Yuta and Jungwoo have confessed to watching more than once and Donghyuck is a fucking mod for your streams. It never bothered you if your friends watched, it wouldn’t bother you now.

But this is…this is different. He kept his viewership a secret, and you weren’t sure what to make of it. Was he too embarrassed to say? Was he afraid it’d ruin your friendship?

You close out the video, looking through his watch history which consists solely of your videos, looking at who he follows — you, only you, and you can’t tell if that’s a good thing yet — and now the used tissues in his trash bin don’t feel so funny anymore. 

“Oh.” You mutter lamely as you open up his comment history. Fucking oh. 

66golden_boy99: wanna fuck you with my tongue til youre squirting all over my face

And your world collapses, punctuated by the sound of the shower turning off— yet that’s lost on your ears. You can’t hear anything but the furious pound of your heart trying to dismantle your ribcage, your blood rushing through your veins and sloshing around your head. 

Mark Lee, sweet, kind and innocent. Mark Lee, who stutters just talking about who he likes. Mark Lee, the resident saint of the group.

Is him. 

The man who’s been peddling filth into your mind, who’s been haunting you every time you decide to start your stream or post a video, skulking around every comment section with your name on it. 

Is Mark fucking Lee.

“Heya! Did ya find…it.” It’s cinematic honestly, the way his stride slows as his eyes frantically flicker back and forth between you and the IPad. “Y-Y-You!”

It’s instantaneous, his face turning a brilliant crimson as he trips over himself to grab the tablet and throw it haphazardly to the side.

His chest is heaving, panic creasing his features as you look him over. He kept the same color scheme, you think emptily, white tank top and gray basketball shorts. It does nothing for your brain as you stare at him mouth agape.

“I c-can explain?” He has the audacity to squeak, to look ashamed even. He’s trying to hide behind his bangs as they fall over his eyes, trying to look so innocent despite his filthy secret coming to light.  

“Why didn’t you accept my friend request?” It’s probably not what you should open with, and Mark’s jaw simply hanging open at the question might be a testament to that.

“…What?” His croaks, voice hoarse.

“You didn’t accept it, why? And where have you been, it’s been three whole days? I’ve been fucking waiting for—”

“You’re not mad?” His voice is still uneven, and even a pitch higher. 

“Mad? Mad? I’m pissed, you, you idiot!” And you are. Probably. Your mind so fucked from trying to comprehend this newfound piece of info you don’t even know where to begin with how you’re feeling. So mad must be the best place to start. 

“For months I’ve been wondering who had the fucking balls to send these freaky borderline insane comments.” He flinches. “Wondering just who the hell was making me feel like, like…that.”

“I—”

“And it was you! Right under my nose, looking at me with those stupid round eyes and big glasses a-and you just pretended like you knew nothing? …I got off to you on stream?” You hate the way your voice sounds so high in your ears, teetering on the edge of full blown shrieking.

“Please, I’m sor…”

“When Hyuck showed those comments were you even ashamed?” You hiss.

He’s blubbering now, eyes pinned somewhere to the ground; half cooked sentences or maybe excuses scattering about the floor with the rest of his mess. It’s all lost on your ears, a million different thoughts in your head drowning it all out. 

His hands raise as if admitting defeat, even beginning to back away in a pitiful attempt at escaping but like hell you’ll let the fool get away from you now. 

“Goddammit, Mark Lee, look at me!” And he does, his mouth snapping shut and eyes focusing on you. His stupid glasses are nowhere to be seen, giving you an unfiltered front row view of how his pupils are blown wide. “Did you mean it?” 

“Mean…what?” You could kill him, you really could because how after all these months of sending you towards the edge with the crudest, filthiest words he can barely say a proper sentence standing before you.

“Any of it! All of it, was it all just talk?” You must’ve hit a nerve. He’s silent again, eyes narrowing for a moment at the accusation. But it slips away, a fickle persona he shoves down. 

His hands lower to his sides.

“...What do you want?” His voice is more even, eyebrows knitting together. 

You know what he’s asking — he was obvious like that, his heart always worn so proudly on his sleeve — because even now with his disgusting secret out in the open between the two of you. He has the audacity to try to take the gentlemanly route of getting you to explicitly state what you want from him, if you want him. 

When all you’ve been waiting for was for him to take.

“What do I want, huh? Let me tell you what I think first.” You know this will definitely make or break what happens next, and maybe even your friendship. But you’re sick of his games, of dancing around whatever the hell was going on between the two of you. “I think you’re all bark and no fucking bite, I think you hide behind a screen because you’re a coward and you probably couldn’t fuck your way out of a wet paper bag.”

His eyes narrow once more.

“You hide behind your good little god fearing boy next door persona when you’re a freak who likes watching one of his best friends get off on camera!” 

He takes a step closer.

“I think you’re filthy and depraved, a repressed weirdo with disgusting kinks. A borderline incel!”

And another step.

“I bet the second you actually got inside of me you’d cum and cry yourself to sleep in a matter of seconds.” His expression darkens at that, and now you’re starting to think that you should stop. 

But where’s the fun in that?

“You couldn’t handle even half the shit you said online, you cowardly little prude, you tiny dicked—”

You don’t realize his hands are on you until you're backed against the wall, one tightly gripping your hip while the other lands on your chest keeping you firmly in place.

“You never shut up. Even in your streams and videos you're constantly yammering on, whimpering and whining and begging.” His voice is low, buzzing around your ears and in your head. You look down at the tent forming in his shorts, mouth drying and watering simultaneously.  

“That for me?” Your tongue feels thick as you look up at him through your lashes.

The hand on your chest inches up, until his palm settles against your throat and you're left wondering if he’ll indulge you by tightening his fingers. Even just a little.

“Even now, can’t shut the fuck up.” He moves in closer, until his hardened cock is against your thigh and he’s forcing his knee between yours. “I asked what you wanted, not for you to insult me.”

“You-”

“So I’ll tell you what I want.” And you feel so wildly out of your depth, there’s a cognitive dissonance you can’t quite escape. Good church boy Mark means wholesome activities, ice cream in the park, farmer’s markets and, and–  

“And then you’re gonna try again for me.” 

“M-Me?” It comes out lamely. Is this really Mark Lee? You think belatedly. Looking at you like he wants to tear you apart inch by inch with nothing but his teeth and tongue.

“I want you on my tongue, on my cock, want you begging for me to stop but it’s all just a filthy fucking lie. I want you to want me to ruin you, this, us.” His voice is raspier, laced with a desperation and craving you’ve never heard before and damn do you need to hear more, so much more.

“So try again. Tell me what you want.” And you can see it, that plea in his eyes for you to just say it. To know you want this as badly as he does, the promise, the threat of him finally letting go looming over the two of you.

“Want.” You grab him by the face, pressing your nose against his and staring into the black depths of his pupils. “Want good boy Mark Lee to die right before my eyes, wan’ you to eat me ‘til nothin’ is left.”

It’s slurred, you’re delirious, so drunk off the way he’s already hard off of you screaming at him (or maybe it was getting caught), at the way he’s demanding you to express your want for him when you’d rather just be on your knees.

But the thing is you always have wanted, craved. That underlying itch to see one of your best friends let loose, the borderline wanting (what you thought was) a random stranger to break into your apartment and do filthy, unmentionable things to you. When you flipped over that IPad thinking you broke it to find yourself being the object of his debauched desire, when you saw his username on the site. 

You ached.

It’s stupid and toeing the line of embarrassing with how badly you want, no, need him, how turned on by the fact he doesn’t even know which person to be in front of you. Doesn’t quite know how to be both.

“Let him die.” Is all he can say, having the audacity to take advantage of your stupor to kiss you. To push you back up against the wall and slot his lips against yours, pulling back just to dive back in before you could truly feel his absence. Over and over each one messier, hotter than the last as a debaucherous hunger flows between the two of you.

“You don’t get it.” He mumbles, pressing himself firmly against you, sweat starting to prickle against your skin. “When y-you started camming I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

And suddenly you could see it, vividly. Just behind your eyelids was Mark hunched over in his bed, one of your streams or videos playing in the background as he furiously chased his release. Only to be left wallowing in the shame of jerking it with cheap lotion to you, forced to clean himself off with even cheaper tissues and spending the rest of his night completely alone.

“Your perfect fucking pussy, for everyone to see…when I’ve been waiting.” He rasps, hands finding their way back onto your body. “Couldn’t stand it, couldn’t fuckin’ stand it.”

“Mm, Ma-ark…” Without hesitation he twists his head, allowing himself to sink his teeth at the base of your throat. Pulling away to focus another dark look at you, that heady mixture of unmitigated want and wicked promises swirling in his eyes.

“S’All I could think about, even with our friends.” He noses along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe as his breathing turns ragged. “Wanted to haul you onto the table and fuck you ‘til your head went dumb, ‘til all was left was you squealing like a fuckin’ whore while they all watched.”

There’s a cartoon halo of stars around your head, surely there is, each word from his mouth adding another to the ditzy constellation circling your brain. This is him, this is Mark ‘Golden Boy’ Lee and his once hidden (and so deliciously unhinged) silver tongue. 

“Pl-Please, oh fu— please.” His lips are back to working against your throat, and just as you try to reach up and grab at him, to try and sway him into relieving some of the tension building in the air. 

He steps back, yanking at your arm.

Yet he doesn’t give you a chance to simply fall, or even react. Instead he uses your off-kilter balance to push you onto your knees, thankful that he’s a sloppy loser when you land on a pile of clothes.

“This.” He doesn’t bother being shy about tugging his shorts and boxers off in one fluid motion. “This is how I want you.”

He pauses, as if to let you admire the view and you’re not nearly above doing so as your eyes roam so shamelessly. 

Of course he’s cut, with neatly trimmed hair adorning his groin. And though he's just above average in length, he definitely makes up in girth. You think hazily that calling him tiny dicked was definitely a lie.

Your mouth waters.

He lets out a low chuckle of all things, surely laughing at the way your eyes have widened. And maybe you did let your tongue swipe over your lips in anticipation.

“Go ahead, before I make it hurt.” His words are delayed, understanding creeping in slowly; impaired by having long let that fog of desperation cloud your mind. 

You move before you can think, nosing along the side of his cock, pressing a kiss to a cute little mole that you hope to revisit at a later date. But for now you’re flattening your tongue against the base of his shaft and dragging it up his length at a frustrating rate.

He’s heavy on your tongue, thick and heavy and so so hot, and fuck he tastes good or maybe you’re just already addicted. Doomed from the start. 

There’s a war raging in your mind, whether to try your hardest to please him with your mouth, all too tempted to hear the pretty, desperate sounds he’ll make and maybe it’ll earn you a bit of praise. Or to tease until he’s pissed off enough to throw any regard for you and your (throat’s) wellbeing out the window.

The latter is far more appealing.

Coyly you look up at him again through your lashes once more, bringing your tongue to tease at the tip of his cock, licking off a bead of precum forming.

“Are you tryin’ to blow me or piss me off?” Ah, so he has you all figured out.

“Haven’t decided.” You reply properly by taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before sinking further down and ignoring the slightly uncomfortable stretch of your lips. You could get used to this.

Languidly you try to mind your teeth as you sink further down, your jaw aching at the unprecedented stretch. Shallowly you bob your head, barely giving anything as you look up to meet his burning gaze.

“Enough.” He groans, clearly sick of the teasing as his hand comes around to hook his fingers around the back of your head.  

It’s enough of a warning as your hands come up to grip at his bare thighs, whimpering at the first tentative thrust. Unable to escape, knees aching and you can’t help but wonder how damp your panties will be by the time you get them off.

He’s careful at first, not to be too rough in his movements, trying to be considerate of your comfort. It’s ridiculous, and you let him know as much by stabbing your nails into his thighs only forcing him to accidentally bottom out. 

Tears well in your eyes as you choke, gagging around the sinfully thick intrusion into your throat.

“Woah! Fuck, I’m sor-”

He starts to pull away, and desperately you chase after him. But the fucker pulls out, grabbing you by the cheeks to look you in the eyes. 

“Do I have to start calling you names again?” Your voice is already wrecked, but not nearly enough, it could be worse, so much worse. If he would just fully let go. “Or are you just scared?”

He blinks at you, once, twice, those stupidly big eyes of his narrowing into something dangerous. 

“Two taps if it’s too much.”

“It won’t be.” You barely finish the sentence as he grabs you on either side of your head with both hands, pressing the leaking head of his cock against the seam of your lips, precum smearing across. You barely open your mouth before he’s shoving his entire cock down your throat again. 

You can see him, blurred by the tears stuck to your lashes, watching you with such reverence as you pitifully try to relax, still unable to avoid gagging and choking. Yet this time he offers no reprieve, keeps you firmly in place as tears stream down your face and your nails continue to dig into his thighs.

“T-That’s it, choke.” The break in his voice sends something hot through your chest, snaking through the rest of your body and creeping into your veins. How embarrassed would you really be if you came just from having your throat fucked? 

“Where are you?” Your wandering thoughts immediately cease, drawn back in by his fingers dancing along your cheekbone before settling at the back of your head.

He doesn’t even have the decency to let you catch your breath after pulling your attention, shallow thrusts turning reckless as he fucks your face with little regard for you— it’s everything you’ve every wanted from him.

It sends another surge of heat down into your belly, pooling between your thighs and now you’re wondering if your poor panties will even be salvageable after this. 

“Fuck that’s it, so fuckin’ good for me.” He bites his lip, and a part of you wishes you could be tugging on it too with your teeth. 

Use me, use me, use me. The thought fills your mind, leaving room for nothing else but Mark and his cock and your jaw and throat struggling to keep up. 

Frantically you tap on his calf, his response instantaneous.

“You good?” He pulls out again, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip to wipe away a mess of spit and precum.

“Need you,” and you could care less how your voice shakes and rasps, “need you in me so bad. Fuck me.” 

Your fingers dig into his thighs as you muster up the best pitiful look possible, silently begging for more. 

“C-Condom, need, condom.” He huffs, looking around his room frantically.

“Like hell, what happened to painting my insides huh?” Shakily you stand up, managing to push him towards the bed which he doesn’t even bother resisting. “Thought you wanted your cum dripping from my pussy for days.”

And he fucking growls, the sound so wildly animalistic you can barely believe it came from him.

“That what you want? You wanna feel me for days?” You’re on your back in a matter of seconds, his forearms landing on either side of your head to cage you in. He’s staring you down with an uncharacteristic intensity; a predator sizing up his prey.

“Ruin me for anybody else.” It comes out broken, desperation seeping from each word. How much more do you need to bend before he finally breaks?

He’s back on you, a barrage of teeth and tongue assaulting your flesh as his hands leave no part of you untouched, kneading and feeling. Just as you try to bring your own shirt over your head he pushes away your hands, allowing him to take over stripping you bare. 

Each caress of his fingers leaves a trail of fire, almost too hot to bear.  

“Please Marky, please.” It comes out high and whiny and so very needy. “Touch me more.” 

“I’ll give you what you want, just lemme…fuck lemme look at you.” He catches your wrists just as you try to bring your hands up to cover your face, pinning your arms against your sides as his eye shamelessly trace over your figure. There’s a glint of something hungry, swirled with something akin to adoration.

“Y-You like m-me, you’re obsessed.” You

“Yeah, I really fucking am.” He’s grinning, all teeth with a hint of gums that makes your heart somehow pound even harder and you know you’re well and truly fucked. “Like you s’much gonna keep you on my cock forever.” 

He lets go of your hands, grabbing at your thighs to spread them apart, callused fingers dragging up until he’s almost carelessly pressing a finger into you.

“Fuck, you can… o-oh keep me!” You whimper as he bullies one, then two more fingers into your throbbing cunt— there’s a determination bordering on desperation creasing his brow in order to prep you as quickly as possible. 

“Next time, I’ll spend fuckin’ hours doin’ this.” You whine as he drags his fingers out of you.

His hands hook under your thighs, pressing up and up until he can hook your legs over his shoulders and he’s pressing the blunt head of his cock against your hole. There’s a slight sting as he pushes in, the stretch unfamiliar and despite how wet you are some lube would’ve helped. 

But you well and truly could care less.

“I don’t care who sees this, you, I’m the only one who gets to touch, the only one who gets to fuck you like this.” He rasps, bottoming out in one harsh thrust and punching the air out of your lungs.

He’s kind enough to let you catch your breath, indulging you with a few soft kisses along your jaw and nipping at your bottom lip. But it doesn’t last long, following a sloppy kiss with a tentative grind of his hips, then a soft thrust. 

Those desperate whines you usually play up for your streams easily escaping your lips as he builds a steady rhythm. 

“Yes, yes, yes, Mark.” It’s perfect, every single thrust is perfect, the way you're folded in half, the feeling of his fingers digging into you, the strain of toned muscles under flushed skin; so fucking perfect. “Only you.”

And you mean it, fully, wholeheartedly without any hesitation. Only Mark, if that’s what he wants then you want it too, whatever Mark wants he can have.

“M’Close, fuck, I’m so close.” You whimper, raking your fingers through his still damp hair.

“Already?” It spears through your chest, harsh and burning and tears down your belly. 

There’s a split second of perfect silence interrupting the sound of skin slapping against skin, a ringing in your ears followed by the crash of your heart into your ribcage. 

Pleasure slices down your spine, rippling through your body in crashing waves and leaving your head spinning.

He fucks you through the high, any chance of a coherent thought spilling right out of your ears, his name garbled and strained as it forces it’s way past your lips. 

He slows, as if he’s about to waste both your time and do something stupid like pull out and finish on your stomach. And like hell you’re letting that happen, grabbing at his head with both hands and smashing your lips together, pulling away just enough to stare into blown pupils.

“Cum inside me, you bitch!” His teeth come down on your bottom lip, the bite of iron and tang of sweat and spit swirling together on your tongue dizzying, intoxicating. He slams back into you with a force you didn’t know he had, swallowing down a broken moan from his lips as he spills into you. 

“I’m still gonna stream.”  The two of you have settled on his now made bed, tucked under the covers. You had no problem letting Mark dress you in a clean tee and boxers, watching sleepily from his desk chair as he made his bed before depositing you in it.

“I’ll still watch.” He hums. 

“And comment?” It brings up the matter from earlier, the one you never got an answer to. “Why didn’t you?”

“I…I didn’t know what to do. Uh, it was one thing, hiding, but then I thought you…didn’t…”

“Didn’t?” You raise your head, trying to level your gaze to his. 

“Didn’t like m- it, the comments, those messages in chat, all of it. Thought you were just tryin’ to message me to stop. And then I got scared you somehow knew it was…me.” He has that sheepish look smearing his features, a hand coming up to scratch at his nape. 

You stare at him silently, watching as his eyes bounce around your face searching for some hint of what you could possibly be thinking.

“Look where that got us, I can’t even feel my legs, oh my god you have to fuck me on stream, please!”

“H-Huh? Live? Yo I can’t just-”

“Think about it, Marky.” Aching hips and sore muscles be damned, you somehow manage to climb into his lap and straddle his thighs. “Fucking me, on camera, for everyone to see just what you do to me. I’d be so good for you.”

You can see it, what little resolve he had starting to crumble, just a little more.

“Don’t you want that?” It’s his words and he knows it, starting to see the monster he’s created. You run your fingers along his jaw, settling one hand on his shoulder while the other comes up to muss up fluffy brown locks. “Stretching me on your fat cock for my pitiful little viewers to see, wishing it was them driving me insane.”

“Baby…” The pet name from his lips is instantly addicting, and you need so much more of it.

“Please.” And now you’re not sure what you’re begging for, your body screams for you to stop, to not roll your hips against his because it’s far too soon to be fucked into the mattress again.

“If, if you don’t stop doing that.” He groans. “You’re not gonna be able to stream tomorrow.” 

You blink. 

“Wow you really are my biggest fan.”

“Huh?”

“Got my schedule memorized and everything, does that mean we could do it tomorrow? You’ll fuck me on stream tomorrow?”

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Seriously I–”

“Actually, cancel it.” He’s hooking his hands under your thighs, drawing you closer. “Don’t look at me like that, I said cancel it.”  

“Mm, I don’t know if I can go again yet.” But there’s no conviction behind your words.

“You’re fine, I’ll do all the work.” You’re fine he says, it sends a thrill up your spine right into your brain, reworking the entire chemistry in there. It had been there in the back of your mind, slipping in somewhere between finding out his secret and that first kiss. 

You’re absolutely hooked, simply addicted, to Mark Lee. 

“Okay.” You grin at him.

[mallory524]

Oh oh, can I request a sort of alternate ending to the kidnapping headcanons with each of the Thunderbolts where, when they are about to break into the building reader is trapped in, reader appears behind them all bloody and bruised, making them jump and her saying, “Did you guys come to save me? Aww, that’s so sweet, I feel so loved right now!!”

(OMG YES This is sweet and fun I love it)

the thunderbolts come to save you, but you've already handled it yourself

tags- fem!reader, mostly just silly and fluffy, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of blood and fighting and minor injuries, some language

Yelena

Yelena knows that you’re tough, but she doesn’t expect you to be able to get yourself out of this one. The group gets to where you’re being held, and you’re just sitting on the ground, with your back up against the doorway. You look like hell, but you’re free. This is not what Yelena had imagined. She thought she’d have to free you herself and toss you over her shoulder or something. She couldn’t be more happy to see that she was wrong about your state. “Oh, hey, guys! This is awfully sweet of you to all come out here. This is a long ways away from the city,” you say as you manage to get back up on your feet. Yelena looks at you, amazed, and runs up to hug you and kiss your temple. Walker mutters to Ava, “At this point we could’ve just called her an Uber.”

Bucky

Bucky did not want to think about what could be happening to you. He’s seen a lot of pain and hurt in his day, so he knows firsthand how ugly these situations can get. Luckily, it never got as bad as it could’ve, because you actually broke yourself out. Bucky did not expect to find you already fighting off your captors on your own when he arrived with the whole team. Bucky wants to help, of course. He gets one punch in. You thank him, like you haven’t just knocked out every other person on your own. “I was just about to look for where they hid my phone so I could call you to give me a ride home, but it looks like I didn’t even need to call! You guys are the best,” you say, as if you’d just been stranded at the airport. Bucky’s never been so proud.

Ava

The fact that the search for you was dragging on for days was only making Ava’s nerves worse. Leaving you in danger for so long made her feel so horrible, and sometimes she’d wonder if it was possible that you’d escaped on your own. She figured it was too much to hope for, but it made her feel a little better. Besides, it wasn’t too far out of the realm of possibility. She’d imagine finally reaching your location, and the people who were supposed to be guarding you would all be just as clueless about your whereabouts as she was. She never considered that they’d all be unconscious on the ground when she got there. “Ava!!” she hears you yell from behind. She spins around and sees you jogging (with a slight limp) down the hall to reach her. She’s astonished. “Aww you guys! Thanks for coming. That means a lot.” After that remarkably chill response, Ava looks at you like you’ve never been so beautiful and cool in her eyes before, and that’s saying something.

John

John was terrified the whole time you were missing. All day long, he panicked and thought about all the horrible things that could be happening to you at any given moment. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat, he led the whole search, and he was ready to do whatever to took to get to you. You can only imagine his surprise when you run out and cut his destructive rampage short. He keeps standing there and looking at you because this is not computing. You're just standing there with your hands on your hips, your clothes all tattered, with bruises and cuts all over you. You're clearly exhausted, but you manage a little smirk. "Awww, Walker! Were you worried about me?" He just tosses his silly folded shield to the ground and pulls you into a tight hug. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He doesn't even put up a fight when you reach out to affectionately ruffle his hair or pinch his cheek like a grandma. He's just so happy you're safe.

Alexei

When Alexei gets there and realizes you’ve already broken yourself out, he is so shocked. Then he thinks about it for a moment, and he doesn’t know why he’s even surprised. Of course you solved this on your own! You’re such a badass. You always have been. It’s one of the first things he noticed about you, and it’s what initially drew him to you. He feels like he should’ve had more faith in you, but now’s not the time for that. Now’s the time to celebrate the fact that you’re safe. He lets out a loud, jovial laugh and wraps his arms around you, telling you over and over again how proud he is of you while wiping some blood from your forehead. Somehow, you always manage to surprise him. Everyone is thrilled that you’re back, but Alexei is absolutely beaming with pride and relief for the rest of the night.

Bob

Part of why the team originally didn’t want Bob to go on the rescue mission, besides the Void stuff, was because they didn’t know what kind of state you’d be in. Bob’s very new to this line of work, and they know how much you mean to him, so they thought it might be too much for him to handle if he ended up having to see you seriously hurt. Luckily that didn’t happen. Before they have the chance to break the door down, you walk out from the other side of the building, waving your arms. “Hey! I’m right here!” Bob rushes to hug you, and it’s so tight that all your words are kind of muffled. “Guys I got the whole search party? This is actually really flattering.” Bob pulls away after a while and he’s immediately worried again when he sees the bruising all over you. You make a “You should see the other guy” joke, but everyone knows you’re not kidding. They really don’t want to see the other guy.

[planetpiastri]

pairing: lando norris x fem!australian!reader [no faceclaim] summary: honestly, you kind of expected this part-time gig to just be four days of pure chaos that gave you an excuse to see an f1 race up close. then some guy in the fanzone complimented your shoes, and the rest is history. notes: requested by anon!! this has been sitting in my drafts for aaaaages, sorry love <3 y'all are so brave for putting up with me while i try and remember how tf to write these uhhh yeah this one took a turn hope u like it anyway LMFAO

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, and 13,024 others

ausgp Arriving in style! The lads looked great at the Melbourne Walk today 🤩🤩

view all 1,654 comments

username1 lewis and zhou are absolutely slaying!! and oscar is also there

ynusername oscar i love you but you gotta step up your game mate, i wanna wear your merch so bad but it is UGLY!!

landonorris excuse me ausgp i think my fit was deserving of recognition in this post :(

ausgp Can't compete with the hometown hero 🤷‍♂️ landonorris but daniel isn't in this either ? oscarpiastri You're funny.

landonorris

liked by mclaren, ausgp, and 811,364 others

landonorris he shoots, he scores! thanks for such a warm welcome melbourne :)

view all 7,023 comments

oscarpiastri You and I have different definitions of scoring I think

landonorris ever heard of playing the long game? oscarpiastri Nurse he's out again

username2 where's the worker with the shoes i think they're indirecting her

username3 GET THIS MAN THE SHOE LADY'S DIGITS

maxfewtrell Now that's just uncalled for

ausgp Love to see the spirit 😉

username4 aww lando always looks so happy in melbourne, he loves it here :'))

ynusername oh wtf

liked by ausgp, yourfriend, and others

ynusername busy busy busy day, absolutely buggered, but very excited for tomorrow 😁 (also peep The Shoes on the last slide)

view all 89 comments

yourfriend i mean... he's right, they are sick shoes

ynusername you're just saying that cos you made me buy them yourfriend well yes!

username5 omg are u the girl who was working the fanzone today??

ynusername i was one of them!

username6 ok if this is the shoe lady i don't blame lando for staring she's so pretty omg

yourfriend "the shoe lady" ynusername i've been titled?????

ynusername

liked by yourfriend, landonorris, and others

ynusername weirdest work day ever (included today's shoes bc apparently it's a thing now)

view all 112 comments

yourfriend that wrap was good as hell tho

ynusername deffo the most exciting part of lunch

username7 wait who is this girl and why does lando follow her?

username8 go to lovestruckln on twitter, she has a whole thread about it!

landonorris ...weird in a good way, right?

username9 your lack of rizz is astounding lando username10 bro STAND UP ynusername weird in an interesting way landonorris i'll take that

landonorris

liked by ynusername, ausgp, and 1,011,023 others

landonorris melb, you have my ❤️

view all 8,327 comments

username11 SHOE GIRLLLLLL

username12 i hope they never hard launch and he just keeps posting pics of cool sneakers

georgerussell63 You're welcome

charles_leclerc You did it, you crazy son of a bitch ausgp Where's our credit?? georgerussell63 You put the pieces in play, I moved them into checkmate ynusername you threw a shoe at me. calm down. ausgp He what???

username13 bro's collecting aussies like infinity stones

danielricciardo ?? oscarpiastri No ynusername :// landonorris 😁😁

ynusername you're cool ig 🙄

landonorris your swag style and utter disdain for me has captured my heart ynusername oh my god stop i'm blushing

tagging: @thearchieves @sheridamn @nikfigueiredo @charlig123456789 @ilove-tswizzle @aandreea2005 @sideboobrry @vellicora @eire-the-egg @marymustdie @cocote1410 @taygrls @koalapastries @vroomvroommuppett @nichmeddar @d3kstar @333kiki @ririyulife @resident-swiftie @zimm04 @jupiter-je-taime @ever_bizzare @clemswrld @hollieeelol @leireggsworld @ironmaiden1313 @lunar-racing @lightninginab0ttle @maddie-naps @bwddermilch @pnkwhskyprncss @landossainz @chaotic_version

request: hiya! i love how funny your smau’s are and i’m begging for an aussie!reader x Lando one. maybe she works for the AusGP and they met in Melbourne? idk -anon

[mollygrass]

I’m not supposed to be writing but I just felt like it so here we go.

Preacher girl

Part Two

Remmick x Female reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: After being humiliated by your friends for still being a virgin, the outcast of town who only comes out during night helps you solve your little problem.

Warnings & Tags: religious themes, religious virgin reader in early 20s, loser and awkward Remmick, praise kink, corruption kink, smut

A/n: This has only been proofread once, so sorry for any grammatical errors. Please enjoy :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺ ‧⁺ ‧

Everyone in town avoids his house like it’s the bubonic plague. As if crossing paths on its lawn will soil their skin or taint their holiness. Well, everyone except for you.

In all your sweet graceness, you always visit him during the day and night. A freshly baked apple pie or Sunday supper in your hands as a token of your kindness. You always knock at his door here and there. Some days he answers the door, other days the odd man doesn’t. It never matters to you because you have a heart full of gold and love.

The fatherly God says to love all. Even outcasted, weird neighbors down the street who don't dare step foot in Sunday church. You find it unholy of your fellow neighbors who turn their noses up at the poor fella.

Today at the crack of night isn’t like other days when you bring him a gift of kindness and care. This time around your hands are empty and a long frown drags your lips down. You knock at his door, praying to God he opens up. You desperately need someone to chat with about the events from last night.

Still, their words, mean and nasty echo throughout your head. It’s been that way all during the day and you can’t take it anymore.

“Wow, aren’t you a bit too old?”

“Yeah…I mean who even waits till marriage anymore these days?”

“Aww. Guys stop it! Y’all know she can’t help herself. Afterall, she’s, sweet-ole preacher girl.”

Your friends proceeded to laugh in your face at the diner. Their voices so loud the guys sitting steps away heard it all. Each and every little detail of the humiliating discussion. Usually it doesn’t matter who overhears but the guy you’ve been crushing on for years was there at the neighboring booth.

Shaking away the awful memories, your eyes glance up from your dress shoes at the door. It creaks open in a small crack. Through the small opening a pair of eyes meet yours. Moon light dimly reveals his upper features as most of the wooden door hides the rest.

“Yes?” His voice comes quiet and meek from behind the door.

Eyes fluttering, you wipe away tears threatening to fall. “G-Good evening, Remmick. I was wondering if I could come in and chat with you?”

He remains unmoved, still hiding behind the door. There’s a long silent pause. Crickets and nightly creatures hum as you wait for an answer.

But a verbal answer never comes, only the door hinges whining as the door opens wider. Remmick’s upper half blends in with the shadows of his house. Only his wrinkly slacks and dress shoes show in the light pouring in from outside.

“Thank you.”

The door closes with a soft click behind you. You hear his feet creak across the floor before light illuminates everywhere after a swift click.

As usual, Remmick disappears into the kitchen and you trail after him. But this time there’s not a skip in your step. Instead your shoulders slouch as you drag your feet. He doesn’t miss it either because his decaying wooden floors would have been screaming under your happy feet.

“Would you like some ice tea?”

You weakly nod, plopping down in the creaky old chair.

He pours you a nice glass of cool lemonade flavored tea and sits it down in front you. Then opposite to you he joins sitting at the table.

Again, another awkward silence falls between you two. He never is the chatter box, no, that trait belongs to you. Not to mention, Remmick doesn’t know what to say. Normally he doesn’t expect visitors this late at night. Especially from you who rarely visits at night.

He clears his dry throat, hands fidgeting together awkwardly. “So…uh…what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Your eyes never leave the glass of ice tea. Lips cracking open in a quiver. “My friends, they humiliated me, Remmick.” Your voice cracks.

He startles, eyes blinking as concern and confusion knits his brows upward. “How’d they do that?”

Sniffling, wiping tears away, face burning hot; you ready yourself for what comes next.

“I’m untouched…you know…waiting til marriage.”

“Oh.”

Remmick’s eyes flicker around anywhere but on you. Blood rises in his sickly pale cheeks. You can’t tell if he’s judging or uncomfortable with the topic at hand.

“And, a guy I like was nearby and heard. It was so embarrassing, you know?”

His face drains of red and his features become blank. Unreadable. A dark glimmer crosses his eyes for a second. Then it’s gone as he just stares at you.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. Like you said you’re waiting til marriage.”

“Yeah, but I want it to be him and he snickered at me with his friends, Remmick.”

His jaw clenches at his name casually and idly rolling off your tongue.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

His voice is firm. No longer soft and delicate. You fail to notice it though.

“But what if he doesn’t? My friends say no one waits that long anymore. They say I’ll never even get married because of it.”

Remmick’s nails tap on the table, his head lazily rests in one hand. His glare burns holes in your skull. The more and more you talk he finds it difficult to calm himself. What you said earlier is making him itch with irritation.

“So, is this what you really came to me to talk about at night? I was sweetly dreaming, you know?”

His words sting hot and cut deep. Finally you gaze up from the untouched sweet tea. Slowly, his words sink into your mind.

You blink. Your lips part, but nothing comes out. Remmick never acts in such a manner towards you. Never. It’s part of the reason you always visit him. He’s a good listening ear and never judges you. Tonight for some odd reason he is.

Why?

“Yes…I mean, I would’ve came in the morning but I couldn’t get it out my mind and—”

“And what am I supposed to do about this problem?” He sharply snaps.

“I-I just wanted to talk. I-I’m s-sorry, Remmick.”

He stands from the chair. His shadow

envelopes you from where you sit.

“Talking ain’t gonna solve that. You’re better off keeping it to yourself.”

The next words that slip out your sweet mouth are all impulsive, no thinking behind them. Purely rooted in adrenaline.

“Then help me! If you’re unholy as the town says, help me fix this problem!”

Remmick just stares at you. He’s stiff, as if trapped in a trance. Lips gaping, eyes wide with shock.

Your face boils hot and tears gather in your eyes. You begin wondering maybe coming to your odd neighbor isn’t the brightest idea. But when his tall stature hovers over you, the idea shatters to fragments of nothingness.

His palm rests on the table, supporting him as he leans in your space.

“You sure that’s what you really want, darlin?” He rasps.

You audibly gulp. Darlin. Remmick never calls you such a name. Let alone invade your personal bubble as he’s doing now.

You hesitantly nod, soaking in the sinful glint in his brown round eyes.

………………

His every touch feels tainting. As if the sin everyone in town says engulfs him is spreading like a plague across wherever Remmick touches.

In a bedroom, you assume he sleeps in, you lay on a bed. The mattress is soft and fluffy against your back. The room smells of an odd scent. One reminiscent of a dry iron stench and old drywall. You ignore it, or better yet you barely notice it. Halfway naked in only panties and a bra is too much of a shameful distraction.

And of course him.

He’s between your open, trembling legs. Just like you his chest is bare with only his underwear on.

Every kiss he litters across your skin blazes in flames and with each one you pray for the lord’s forgiveness.

“Relax,” he breathes. Voice low and hot.

You don’t say anything and try to obey him. Inhale out. Exhale out. You repeat this process like a broken record as his rough calloused hands explores your body.

He enjoys the way your soft skin, pure and unexplored, feels under his touch. Remmick always does wonder what it feels like. Especially when you come over in more exposing clothes. Now he knows.

There’s only one thing bugging him like an irritating itch beneath his skin. How incredibly stiff your limbs become wherever he graces your body.

His smooth movements halt. An intense hunger pools in his eyes as he hovers you. “We can always stop.”

“No, I want to keep going,” you mutter, voice shaking.

“Then promise me you’ll relax.”

You avoid his gaze and nod.

The mattress sinks in at the sides of your head.

“Look at me, now.”

The simple command draws your attention to him. You don’t know why but it just does.

“I want you to say it, okay, darlin?”

Darlin. That word again. It makes your heart drum and butterflies dance in your belly. Worst of all, down below where the lord forbids, an aching heat spreads. A poor sweet thing like you, so holy and innocent, it drives you insane.

“I-I promise.”

He huffs a laugh and a smirk pulls his lips back. “Good girl.”

He leans back down and continues the ungodly acts. Something warm and wet glides across your neck to the tip of your chin. You gasp, unknowingly, eyes sealed closed.

“Maybe if you open your eyes you’ll know what’s coming next.” His breath hits your ear.

Your spine arches, face jolting away from him. “I can’t look. I don’t want to look. I-I just can’t, Remmick,” you stammer.

“Fine, have it your way, darlin.”

He continues lapping his tongue across your skin all over. From your neck, stomach and thighs. It leaves you a trembling hot mess. Confusion and a sinful desire to be further touched by him clouds your mind.

Remmick easily discards your bra and panties somewhere on the floor beside the bed. Your hand covers your throbbing cunt while your other arm hides your breast.

He sighs. You’re unbelievable, truly. He finds it cute but slightly annoying. Your little shy antics only makes his greed to ruin you grow stronger.

“Stop hiding or I’ll tie your wrist to the headboard’s rails.”

“What?” Your eyes shoot wide open. A new fear arising.

“You heard me, now be a good girl and listen.”

Just like that you obey him.

Softly he envelopes one breast in a hand, fingers pinching the hardening bud. His mouth occupies your other breast. The sensation tears a loud moan past your lips as your back arches, puffing your chest outward. His teeth and tongue are mean and cruel, bullying your poor nipple.

Your chest heaves in uneven rhythms. Waves of heat bring a new type of ungodliness between your shaky thighs. Your cunt pulses; wet slick coats all over down there.

“R-Remmick…Remmick.”

“Hmm?” He hums, still toying with your breast.

“I f-feel weird,” you choke out through breathy pants.

Then something happens and as it does your body is a quivering leaf in the wind. A loud whiny moan fills the bedroom as you cum.

He gives your abused nipple one last savoring suck before releasing it with a pop. It glistens, wet and swollen. Saliva pools at his chin on one side as he stares down at you. A crimson glow glints in his half-lidded eyes. Teeth, sharp and long peeks between the cracks of his lips.

“So fucking beautiful,” be breathes before gulping bottled excessive salvia in his mouth. “I always longed for this. I always wondered what would make you cum fast, but I never imagined just your nipples would do the trick.”

A blurry haze fogs your brain and his words don’t register. As you stare back up at him, you notice a difference. Those round, worrying puppy-like eyes are gone. The awkward, quiet, timid neighbor from down the street is no longer there. This man above you isn’t him. It can’t be him because this imposter reeks of what the Bible teaches you to stay away from.

Is this what everyone else in town sees in him when you couldn’t?

You blink once. Remmick’s still there, eyes dark and lustful. You blink twice. He’s gone.

At least that’s what you naively thought until you feel him buried between your thighs. Elbows supporting his weight as his hands firmly hook around your legs. He holds you right where he wants you.

The fog shatters as his mouth latches onto your cunt. Instinctly you try to close your thighs but his iron grip prevents it. So, instead your hands run through his silky short curls. You grab bundles of his curls in your fist, body squirming uncontrollably.

He just hums in delight. Your cunt’s juices are a forbidden honey on his tongue. No matter how much he sucks, digs his tongue deep, he can’t get enough of it.

He slowly draws away, eyes nearly rolling back. “Fuck, I’m gonna lose control. I’m trying not to because if I do I’m afraid I’ll break you, darlin.”

The only response he earns in return from you is a weak mewl.

“Fuck it, you wanted this anyways. You can take it just like the good girl you are.”

He no longer wears underwear. His cock stands proud and hard as he guides it to your throbbing hole. The tip kisses your entrance. Then it pushes in, nowhere deep between your warm walls yet.

Your hands grasp around the mattress as pain screams through your cunt.

“Mmm, Remmick it hurts.”

He leans down, closing the space between you two. One arm rests above your head while the other holds your hips in place. His forehead lightly touches yours. His breaths are uneven, and sloppy.

“Yeah, I know.” He pecks your nose and then kisses your lips. “It’ll only hurt for a bit, darlin. So, please bear with me.”

He kisses you again. This time it’s long and passionate. You kiss him back, lost in the moment forgetting he’s even halfway inside. He gains easy access inside your mouth when he bites your bottom lip. His tongue explores everywhere before battling with your smaller tongue.

He takes advantage of your distraction and thrusts his hips. Your sweet moans muffle, filling his mouth instead. The chains holding Remmick back break loose. Any and all control he holds is gone to the winds. His hips don’t stop, never giving your walls a chance to get used to his size.

His lips pull away from yours and a long thread of saliva connects your them. The rhythm of his thrusts is even and controlled. Your walls squeeze deliciously tight around him. It drives him nearly insane.

Each pump of his cock, pain fades away slowly but surely. Your breaths become messier and heavier. The idea of sin or anything with God serves no justice in your brain. All you can think about is how good Remmick’s cock feels deep inside you.

His groans mix together with your loud whiny moans that evolve more sluttier bouncing off the walls in the bedroom.

“Oh…my…God…so good…Oh, Remmick.” Your words utter out, a tangling mess.

“I know, darlin. I know. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm.” You nod, plump lips in pout.

He chuckles as a wicked idea brews in his mind. Remmick leans back and throws your legs over his shoulders.

“I bet this’ll make ya feel extra good.” He licks lips.

His cock digs deeper. It hits a certain sweet spot. Again and again. Pleasure sends shock waves through your entire body. It feels so good you see stars in your hazy vision. He leans in closers and your knees ghost over your breast.

“Look at you,” he says in awe. “So pretty folded underneath me and taking my cock so well. Such a good girl.”

You don’t even respond. You can’t. Not with the way he’s crushing you to a crumbled mess.

A goody two shoes like you never expected your first time to happen this way. In fact even though you shouldn’t have imagined it, you sometimes would. In your innocent little head, you always fantasized it would happen the day of your marriage as a wife. Yet here you are being pounded by the town’s unholy outcast at midnight.

Noises of skin slapping and slick squelching fill the room. His and your skin glistens with salty sweat. Remmick’s thrusts are sloppy, hungry and needy. He chases his orgasm along with you. Under his breath he mumbles lewd sayings as you cry out, nearly close to cumming.

A few more sharp, fast pumps and you two cum together. Your fingers fist the sheets and your back arches. His warm milky seed fills you up as he rides out his orgasm, still bucking his hips. He milks himself dry.

His shaky breath is loud as his shoulders slump. Underneath him, you lay half conscious, half awake. Marks decorate your naked frame from head to toe. He carrasses the marks, savoring the mess he made of you.

Someone as holy and devoted to God as you ruined by someone unusual, wicked and unworthy of the sun’s love. Oh, how pride swells his chest.

“I always wanted to make you mine, but was afraid of tainting your beautiful light. But now I’m even more afraid I can’t let you go after all this, darlin.”

You don’t know, innocently drifting off to sleep, but your freedom is no longer yours. Your lovely, graceful God abandons you now. No one can save you now. Not from the talons of Remmick, a man as ancient as time itself.

If only you knew visiting the man down the street no one talks to wasn’t a good idea.

If only.

If only.

Now you will live a life of hellish despair

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺ ‧⁺ ‧

[rooniearts]

Pitayaverse Asks............ TWO!

I once again have a good handful of asks regarding Pitayaverse, so here goes another post! :'D This time around there's about 29 asks I'll be answering! Enjoy <3

Silver's fine! His fur is just darkening with age :] Think of it like how a Siamese cat's fur works - he starts out looking almost fully white, but his limbs and face slowly darkens over time.

REAL,,, petition to let Tails hit his brother with hammers

@dahliacloud

Oh yes, he resents him deeply. He had no part in any of this, but still slowly but surely ended up with all of Sonic's responsibilities. But by far the worst part for him is seeing how much it all affects this tiny little baby girl. THAT is what truly infuriates him.

It's come to my attention that this ask is probably about his Archie backstory, which I unfortunately don't know much about and so isn't canon to the AU ;v; I'm going with the vague idea that they don't have parents for whatever reason and had to grow up alone together

But in that case, I still like to think it has a part to play, yeah. Tails knows how hard it is to grow up without a parent, and he knows Sonic does too, so he can't comprehend why he isn't trying harder to give this kid that love and stability.

@lowkeuu

LMAOOO idek how that would work with a fox! Maybe his fur thins? Idk :'D but he absolutely does start growing grey hairs pretty young

Oh, yeah. Having the Kind Patient Sweet one of the group snap and pop the fuck off on someone is scary every time it happens. All of them, Shadow included, would definitely be taken aback at the very least.

If I do end up giving them a kid, then this is absolutely the way I'd go with it. I can't let my boy go through even more turmoil in this AU, he's had more than enough :')

AWW LOL, see I like this take on it. That's very cute and I think he would just actually volunteer to take them in at that point too :D

[Referring to this post]

She does, but calling them that is a habit she picked up from Tails. Sonic and Knuckles just only referred to themselves and eachother as "dad," so when she'd talk to Tails about them he'd ask her to specify whether she meant "Sonic-dad" or "Knuckles-dad." Eventually she just started using those terms every time she spoke to or about them!

As Pitaya grows up, Knuckles graduates from "Knuckles-dad" to just "dad", but she eventually just starts calling Sonic by his name. Sonic doesn't really mind this, except for the few times that Knuckles gets to hold it over his head

HEHEHE loving all this Pitaya hype from y'all!! Thank you and yes, she deserves the world <3

YESSS! It's so important to me that she grows up to be happy. Maybe not well adjusted, but she's got endless determination and is not afraid to speak her mind!

[Referring to this post]

I mean, it's part of why. His actions didn't exactly do much to alleviate her doubts, either.

@your-local-cattus-enjoyer

The master post is right here! There may be a few stray asks that aren't listed, but they should still be under the tag

The basic gist of it is that he was just really neglectful. He was barely there, and when he was, it was often only a matter of time before he and Knuckles started fighting. As an adult, she's also really upset that he let Tails take over all the heavy lifting for him when he was still just a kid too.

Once in a while! Usually whenever both Knuckles and Tails are preoccupied for whatever reason. All their stories of clever sleuthing and high-stakes tussles is what made her want to be a detective one day :]

And yes, actually, she did! Her and Echo, and occasionally Psi and Alloy, end up forming their own New Chaotix Detectives group! They just aren't nearly as active as Vector, Espio and Charmy were :')

LOL, for sure! She loooves her cool uncles Vector, Espio and Charmy. She knows they've always got her back <3

Mighty USED to be in the cool uncle camp, but absolutely not anymore. That went out the window the second he got with Sonic. She does love Knuckles, but she's had her ups and downs with him. Ray she just doesn't really know at all, he just goes in the resentment bin by association :'D

That's so true actually,,,, my obvious Chaotix bias is showing :'D

But hmm, that's a good question. If they were to end up together, I think they probably wouldn't have kids, no. I like to imagine they'd be the type of couple who live seperately and just visit eachother frequently, and not like married with kids.

@inkmaams

Their go-to babysitter list is very short because Silver gets very very paranoid over them :'D It consists of Blaze&Amy and Vector ONLY. And it took Espio AGES to convince Silver to let Vector take care of them in the first place

[Referring to this post]

Yup :') He was probably not gonna tell them about any of that, but alas he and Espio spawned Little Mr. Thought Police so now he has no choice but to explain himself </3

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Maybe not robots, but in theory, I guess he probably could read aliens' minds. I was mostly referring to humans/mobians, but there's no reason he couldn't try on other sentient organic beings. However, I feel like they may end up being incomprehensible noise to him because of how differently an alien's brain would work to his own

As for when he's in meltdown mode and can hear everyone all at once, no, he can't hear everyone in the universe, just those that are within a certain radius. Think of it as like whatever a normal hearing range would be, just not obstructed by walls.

Yes! Espio and Silver are married and besides one or two blow-ups, they happily stay that way. And Sonic and Mighty are at the very least life partners, whether they get married or not (I haven't yet decided lol)

Besides them, Blaze and Amy are also married! And Knuckles and Rouge too eventually :]

LMAO, Sonic WISHES. But nay, Mighty had to go and be a spoilsport and put a rule against backwards names. Rude of him tbh.

bro just can't stop spawning babies, what can I say🥀

@scribble0rat

LOL yeah the poor guy only had a vague idea of what he was signing up for. He had met Pitaya once in a while when she was young, and he knew Sonic had struggled with being there for her and that something happened between him and his friend group, but he didn't realize just how angry not only Pitaya was, but also Tails. He's using all those years of anger management to their fullest to tank this situation, I fear :'D

AND YESSS my boy needs more love <3 Us Mighty girlies have to stick together💪

AWWW that's actually such a cute thought experiment!!!!

It's hard to say, but I think they'd be relatively close. Maybe not joined at the hip, but they'd appreciate one another. They're both very similar in personality, it's just mostly that Echo is an introvert and Silver is a HUGE extrovert. The only conflict I can think of is that Echo is very much a copycat, and I think Silver might get annoyed with that pretty quick.

@marinette-sky

No, Shadow is Echo's only parent via cloning shenanigans. Sonic has nothing to do with her, thank goodness :'D

And thank you!! Much appreciated!!! <3

[lazysoulwriter]

sweetest man alive - pedro pascal.

requested! hope u enjoyy.

---

Pedro’s curls are extra fluffy tonight, the result of too much nervous hand-combing in the dressing room. He’s sitting on the iconic couch of The Graham Norton Show, sipping on water even though there’s a fancy cocktail in front of him. There’s a buzz in the studio—part excitement, part anticipation—because everyone knows the topic’s about to shift to her.

They've just wrapped up a chaotic segment with a comedian and a pop star, and Graham leans toward him with a knowing smirk. Pedro already senses it coming.

“So Pedro,” Graham begins, drawing out the syllables, “the internet’s in shambles over you two going official. How’s life treating you now that you’re a proper, public couple?”

The audience oooohs, claps, and Pedro—sweet, soft Pedro—blushes immediately. He tries to hide it behind his glass but he’s grinning like an idiot.

“Oh God,” he says, voice already a few decibels higher, “are we really doing this?”

“Yes, we are,” Graham says smugly. “You posted the photo. There’s no going back.”

Pedro shakes his head, laughing. “I didn’t post it, she did! And I asked for it. I begged for it, actually.” He leans back into the couch, one hand pressed over his chest dramatically. “I saw the picture and said, ‘Please, you have to post this. The world deserves to see how hot we look together.’”

The audience laughs, and Graham raises his brows. “So you’re fully leaning in, huh?”

Pedro nods, then softens instantly. His shoulders relax, the smirk fades into a fond, half-smitten smile.

“Yeah,” he says, quietly now. “I mean, I’ve never felt like this before. It’s just… easy. Like, we’re laughing all the time, she annoys me in the best way, I wake up and she’s there and I’m like, ‘Oh, cool, I get to do life with you.’”

The audience lets out a collective aww, and Pedro looks mildly flustered again, running a hand through his hair.

Graham chuckles. “You’re glowing, man. You’re like—radiating love.”

“I am in love,” Pedro says without hesitation, completely unbothered by the way the crowd reacts. “Like, I’m an actual mess. I hear her voice and I start smiling like a fool. I wait by the door when she’s coming over, like a golden retriever. It’s embarrassing. I’m disgusting.”

More laughter. He leans forward, as if to confide in the whole audience.

“She sent me a video of her dancing in my kitchen the other day,” he says, beaming. “Wearing my hoodie. Just dancing like a weirdo with the cat in her arms. I’ve watched it at least fifty times. I show it to everyone. Even people on set who didn’t ask.”

Graham’s laughing so hard he has to wipe his eyes. “Pedro, this is honestly the sappiest I’ve ever seen you.”

“Yeah,” Pedro shrugs. “She ruined me. I was a cool, mysterious man before this.”

“No, you weren’t,” the pop star interrupts playfully from the other couch.

Pedro points at them. “Exactly. I wasn’t. And now I’m not even pretending. I just want to brag about my girlfriend and how good she smells and how nice she is to everyone, and how sometimes I catch her making playlists for me and pretending like it’s not the most romantic thing in the world.”

Graham grins. “You’re officially the softest man alive.”

“I’ll take that title proudly,” Pedro says, placing a hand over his heart. “Long live the soft kings.”

The segment ends with the audience clapping, Pedro still smiling like he’s holding onto a secret, one that smells like his hoodie and dances in his kitchen with a cat in her arms.

---

[rene-darling]

Hi hiii

How do you feel about Choso from jjk? He's literally so fucking pretty, maybe it was the cool lighting in the episode but bro is majestic. I need to fuck him dumb so bad until he's babbling and his mind is so gone.

Yeah but that's me, how do you feel about him?

(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

DUMB- choso

...I feel the same ml, pretty sure this is gender neutral since I didn't use any pronouns for the reader, if I did feel free to inform me!...pic credits..sybbatra

...choso...

Choso is a pretty tame person, he's had limited contact with people so Imagine this hundred of years old curse who has never slept with anyone,

He's so pretty, isn't he? He definitely throws his head back while you're fucking him. Deep breathy moans and when he's really far gone he starts whining and pleading with you, what's he pleading for? He doesn't know. He just is.

Fuck him on your lap facing him towards a mirror, he's far too embarrassed to look. Throwing his head back onto your shoulder, his hot breath tickles your neck while he moans and whines right into your ear.

Getting too embarrassed by moaning into you, he's forced to look forward, to look at himself being fucked dumb it's so embarrassing he starts crying from shame! Cute darling is now crying into your neck, hiding his face in shame.

"aww... what's wrong soso-..? Hm?" fuck. He hates that nickname- no, he loves it. What? He hates it when you act dumb. "..so mean..y-you're-..s-so meAN-!" cutting off his babbling by suddenly grabbing and jerking his sloppy dick

It's tip is a raging red. It looks so silly.

His long hair flows down his neck and over your shoulder and back as he rests his head there. You jerk his dick a few times before letting it go, his hard-on slaps against his stomach with a wet sound, it makes you chuckle, while he whines at the sound. You're really so mean!!

His muscles tense up, he's really so close! You can tell. It's like clockwork how his body acts the same way before every release, you have its pattern memorized.

Tensing up, his mouth falls dry, and his breath hitches. He convulses, slightly shivering as his body slumps back into you.

His hand reaches out towards yours, and he grabs at it, tugging it, shaking his head he mumbles out "Mhm..n-no more...please, I've-...I've had enough, it's enough experimenting- f-..for today." He finds the energy to turn his head and look over at you. His eyes glossed over as he tries finding mercy in yours.

Sighing, you shake your head, getting a strained whine from him "I told you, we'll fuck until you can't speak- but it seems my pretty boyfriend here is quite coherent and able to make sense of things. We can't have that can we?"

You're so mean, so very mean. But he loves you, and he loves how you make him feel, so he takes a deep breath as he nods squeezing his eyes shut as he pouts his lips, he at least wants a kiss from you before you ravage him again!

[blairxbear]

Walk in on Each Other Doing Something Extremely Embarrassing

What happens when the MHA guys walk in on their love sick friends doing something embarrassing?

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Mirio Togata, Tamaki Amajiki, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, Shota Aizawa (Eraserhead), Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic), Keigo Takami (Hawks), Enji Todoroki (Endeavor), Toya Todoroki (Dabi), Tomura Shigaraki, Shoto Todoroki, Fumikage Tokoyami, Mezo Shoji, Tenya Ida

Midoriya Walks in on Bakugo… Looking at Pictures of You Like a Lovesick Fool.

Midoriya pushes open the door without thinking. “Hey, Kacchan, I was wondering if you—”

Bakugo’s head snaps up. He is mid-scroll through his camera roll… full of pictures of you.

Midoriya blinks. Bakugo blinks.

Neither of them move.

“…So,” Midoriya starts carefully. “You—”

“GET. OUT.”

“Are those—”

Bakugo’s entire phone combusts in his hands. “I SAID GET OUT.”

Midoriya wisely leaves. He will never forget this.

(For weeks, Bakugo is paranoid that Midoriya will bring it up. He does. Often.)

Mirio Walks in on Tamaki… Practicing Asking You Out in the Mirror.

Tamaki stares intensely at his reflection. “H-Hey, Y/N… you look… uh… nice today. No, too stiff. Okay, um—h-hey! Looking good. NO, TOO FORWARD—”

Mirio leans against the doorframe, grinning ear to ear.

Tamaki doesn’t notice. He takes a deep breath. “Y/N, I think I—I mean, I know I like you. Would you—”

Mirio clears his throat.

Tamaki freezes.

Mirio waves. “Oh, don’t stop! I was really getting into it.”

Tamaki short-circuits. He vanishes into his cloak like a dying star.

(Mirio tells you immediately. You find it adorable. Tamaki never recovers.)

Denki Walks in on Kirishima… Taking a Shirtless Gym Selfie for You.

Kirishima angles his phone. “Alright, cool, cool—gotta flex a little, but not too much. Make it look natural.”

Denki peeks in. “Bro?”

Kirishima whips around. His phone flies out of his hands.

Denki stares at the shirtless, sweaty, flexing Kirishima. “Wait… were you—”

Kirishima grabs him by the shoulders. “Denki, listen.”

Denki’s grin grows. “Were you sending that to Y/N?”

Kirishima sweats. “I—uh—”

Denki cackles. “OH MY GOD, YOU WERE.”

(The selfie never gets sent. Denki teases him about it forever.)

Aizawa Walks in on Hizashi… Singing a Love Song About You in His Underwear.

Aizawa regrets opening this door.

Hizashi is mid-spin, hair down, air-guitaring a love ballad about you. In his boxers.

Aizawa blinks slowly.

Hizashi notices.

They stare at each other.

Aizawa shuts the door. Walks away. Says nothing.

(For weeks, Hizashi lives in fear of Aizawa bringing it up. He never does. It’s worse.)

Hawks Walks in on Endeavor… Watching a Romantic Movie and Sobbing Over a Confession Scene.

Hawks leans in the doorway. “Whatcha watchin’, boss?”

Endeavor scrambles for the remote.

Too late. The screen clearly shows a couple confessing their love in the rain.

Endeavor sniffles.

Hawks grins. “Aww, is someone thinking about confessing to Y/N?”

Endeavor glares. “Leave.”

Hawks flops onto the couch. “Nah, I wanna see how it ends.”

(Hawks tells you immediately. You tease Endeavor. He pretends he doesn’t care. He absolutely cares.)

Dabi Walks in on Shigaraki… Having a Full Conversation with a Picture of You.

Shigaraki stares at the screen. “I mean, yeah, you’d probably like me better if I wasn’t, you know, a wanted villain. But whatever. It’s not like I care what you think.”

Dabi leans against the wall. “Wow. You’re really arguing with their photo?”

Shigaraki jerks in surprise.

Dabi grins. “Dude, you are down bad.”

Shigaraki throws the phone at him. “SHUT UP.”

(Dabi never lets him live this down.)

Bakugo Walks in on Shoto… Practicing Pick-Up Lines in the Mirror.

Shoto nods at himself. “Hey, Y/N. You’re looking—uh… radiant. No, too poetic. Looking fine? No, that’s weird…”

Bakugo leans against the doorframe. “Oh, don’t stop. This is good.”

Shoto slowly turns.

They stare at each other.

Bakugo grins. “Keep goin’, I wanna see where this ends.”

Shoto closes the door in his face.

(Bakugo tells everyone. Shoto has never been more embarrassed.)

Tokoyami Walks in on Shoji… Writing You a Love Letter.

Shoji hunches over his desk, writing furiously.

Tokoyami tilts his head. “What are you doing?”

Shoji jumps. “Nothing.”

Tokoyami leans over his shoulder. The words "Dear Y/N, I think about you every day" are right there.

Tokoyami grins. “Ah. Poetry of the soul.”

Shoji slowly crumples the paper.

(The letter is rewritten. It eventually gets to you.)

Tenya Walks in on Denki… Trying to Take a Dick Pic.

Denki angles his phone. “Okay, lighting is important—oh crap, bad angle—”

Tenya walks in.

Denki screams.

Tenya screams.

Denki fumbles the phone.

Tenya turns around so fast he almost trips. “KAMINARI, WHAT THE HELL?”

Denki is on the floor, crying. “BRO KNOCK FIRST.”

Tenya slams the door shut. They never speak of this. Ever.(Denki does not send the picture. He never recovers.)

Ko-fi / Masterlist

blairxbear © 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work outside of tumblr!

[slutoru1207]

Variant!Invincible x Variant!Reader funny imagine

haha i had fun writing this

The battlefield was pure chaos. The Invincible War had brought together versions of Mark from across the multiverse, and now? Now there were also multiple versions of you.

And it was absolute insanity.

One Mark—dressed in a sleek black and red suit—landed beside the original Mark, wiping blood off his face. "Okay, not gonna lie, I was not expecting this many versions of your girlfriend."

"Tell me about it," Mark groaned, dodging a stray blast. "They’ve been all over me for weeks!"

"Sounds like a dream."

"It’s not!"

Meanwhile, across the battlefield, your variants had found their Marks.

"Hey there, handsome," one of you cooed, sidling up to a Mark with a scar over his eye and a much darker aura. "You look dangerous. I like that."

Scarred Mark raised a brow. "And you don’t look scared of me."

You smirked. "Why would I be? I’ve got a thing for bad boys."

Somewhere else, a more unhinged Mark—eyes burning with bloodlust—was being held back by two versions of you, both giggling. "Aww, you’re cute when you’re trying to kill people."

"Let. Me. Go," he snarled.

One of you poked his cheek. "Nah, you’re kinda fun to mess with."

Back with the original Mark, he turned just in time to see three versions of you hanging off different versions of himself. One had her arms draped around a Mark with a robotic arm, whispering in his ear. Another was poking at a Mark with white streaks in his hair, teasing him about how cool he looked.

And the worst? One of you had cozied up to a Mark in a full Viltrumite uniform—the kind that screamed evil overlord.

"So," she purred, tracing a finger down his chest. "Conquering planets, huh? That’s hot."

The Viltrumite Mark smirked. "You’re intriguing."

Original Mark nearly had a stroke. "ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH A VILTRUMITE?!"

Your variant shrugged. "I mean, yeah. Have you seen him?"

Mark groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I can’t deal with this. I can’t."

Meanwhile, the Guardians of the Globe watched the multiversal madness unfold, completely dumbfounded.

"Dude," Rex whispered, eyes wide. "I don’t know whether to be jealous or terrified."

Dupli-Kate sighed. "Both. Be both."

As the battle raged on, it became very clear that the variants—both of Mark and you—were a force to be reckoned with. Some worked together perfectly, back-to-back in combat, protecting each other without hesitation. Others? Well…

"Babe, heads up!" One of you flung a chunk of debris toward a Mark locked in combat.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t her Mark.

"THAT'S NOT MY MARK!" the original you shrieked as the wrong Mark got flattened.

"Oops."

Mark groaned. "I hate this war."

Suddenly, a new portal ripped open in the sky, and out came even more Marks and Readers, their outfits and battle stances making it very clear they had been fighting in their own universes. One Reader stepped forward, looking around with a smirk. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

One Mark, wearing an old, tattered cape, scoffed. "Oh great. More of you."

Another Mark, who looked far too comfortable covered in way too much blood, tilted his head at one of your variants. "I know you."

She grinned. "Yeah, you killed my Mark. Wanna make it up to me?"

Even Original Mark had to do a double take. "WHAT?!"

The battlefield somehow became even worse. One of your variants challenged a Viltrumite Mark to a sparring match, another was actively helping a villain Mark take down a Guardian, and one had somehow convinced a half-robotic Mark to carry her bridal style mid-battle.

"She actually pulled it off," one of your other selves whistled, watching in awe. "Respect."

At this point, even the universe itself seemed exhausted by the sheer amount of chaos. But through it all, one thing remained the same.

It was chaos. It was madness. And, somehow, it was the most entertaining thing that had ever happened in the multiverse.

Because, at the end of the day, no matter what universe they came from—

Marks were Marks.

And Readers? Readers would always drive them insane.

[giuliannna]

LIGHTEN UP

for once, he’s the one asking you for a favor.

— dealer ! hamzah masterlist

the texts came in just before 10 PM.

you were halfway through getting ready for bed - skincare done, old t-shirt on, in the middle of brushing your teeth - when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

it’s not like you’re friends with hamzah. not really. you’ve slowly become a regular, sure - you’ve seen him more times in the past month than you probably should’ve, but the routine has been pretty clear so far.

you buy, he blushes a little, you leave. recently, you’ve begun to occasionally share a blunt. sometimes you get his hoodie thrown over your shoulders when it’s cold.

but this is another step further than just smoking. he asked you to come over. to do him a favor.

and you agreed.

so here you are: lifting your hand to the door of his apartment. you knock once, lightly, and hear faint shuffling around inside.

when the door swings open, hamzah’s standing there in sweatpants, an old jacket half-zipped over a white t-shirt with the apple logo printed onto it.

he smells like weed and fabric softener. his newly buzzed hair is choppy and uneven and it makes you grin.

“hey,” he says, slightly exasperated. “uh - thanks for coming. i was gonna just.. do it myself, but then i was like, you probably know how - i mean, y’know..”

he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes flicking darting but your face. you just smile, letting out a breathless laugh as you step inside.

his apartment’s small. kind of messy, but not gross. there’s a laundry basket of unfolded clothes in the middle of the room, bags of weed and stacks of cash on his kitchen counters, a bong shoved half under the coffee table.

a pair of ginger cats blink at you from the windowsill, one hopping down to circle around your ankles.

“oh, that’s red,” hamzah says quickly, crouching to scoop up the other cat. “this is blue. they’re brothers.”

“aww,” you coo, stepping closer to hamzah to gently pet blue’s head as he settles in hamzah’s arms. “they’re adorable.”

hamzah’s eyes are fixed on you, his body a little stiff, like the proximity is suddenly too much.

“uh - yes. yeah. they are.” he haphazardly drops blue to the floor, pulling another laugh out of you. “you can, uh - the bathroom’s over here. i don’t even know if i got the right stuff to do this.”

you follow him as he starts off down the hall. “i’m sure it’s fine,” you reassure him with a shrug. “i’ll work with what you’ve got.”

he lights up a little at how calm you are, like he was bracing for you to tease him or roll your eyes. “yeah, okay. cool. coolcoolcool.”

in the bathroom, he sits down on the toilet lid, hands folded awkwardly in his lap as you snap on the pair of gloves that you found on the counter, beside what is perhaps the most generic hair bleach kit in the world. there’s a pile his of cut-off curls sitting in the sink.

“you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asks, eyes flicking up nervously.

you raise a brow, mixing up the lightener. “d’you really wanna doubt the person about to put chemicals all over your head?”

he huffs out a laugh, rubbing his palms on his sweatpants. “okay, you’re right. i trust you.”

the cats settle outside the bathroom door, their tails flicking slowly, their big eyes trailing you as you start working the bleach through his hair. his eyes flutter shut when your fingertips brush over his scalp, a soft exhale escaping his lips.

“feels nice,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you.

you smirk, twisting a section of hair between your fingers.

you work the paste through his hair with practiced hands, being extra careful near the roots. he tries to sit still, legs bouncing under him, but every so often his knee knocks against yours.

“sorry-”

“it’s fine,” you murmur, maneuvering his head to hold him still.

he glances up, eyes heavy-lidded, corners of his mouth twitching like he wants to smile but doesn’t know how without looking dumb.

“this is kinda insane, huh?” he says, voice low.

you shrug, grinning. “a little.” you pause, tilting your head down at him. “why’d you buzz it anyway? you had nice hair.”

his cheeks gain a tinge of pink immediately. “oh. uh.. just felt like it. max, uh - my friend, he said it would look good.”

you hum thoughtfully, fingers stilling for a second. “mm. i’ll kinda miss the curls, though.” you say, glancing in the sink where the remnants of his brown locks still remain.

that does it - his whole face goes red. he ducks his head, exhaling a laugh, one hand tugging at the edge of his jacket sleeve. “yeah, well. too late now.”

you lean back, studying your work, ensuring you didn’t miss any spots. “okay. bleach has to sit for like.. thirty minutes.”

“thirty?”

“yeah, your hair’s dark. needs a while.”

you peel the gloves off, stretching your arms overhead with a soft sigh, your shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of your stomach. hamzah’s eyes land on the exposed skin, and then flick upwards to meet your gaze.

by the time the timer on your phone goes off, you’re both slouched on his couch, cats curled up on the armrests, laughter spilling out in lazy fits as you talk about nonsense.

“okay,” you murmur, stretching and turning off the chime of the alarm. “time to rinse before your scalp melts.”

he groans dramatically. “can’t we just.. leave it like this?”

“hell no. you already buzzed it, i can’t let you fry it off with the bleach now, too.”

you stand, tugging him upright, and he follows you back to the bathroom with a soft smile tugging at his lips.

he hunches over the tub, neck craned, trying not to flinch as you work your fingers through his scalp under the faucet. cool water and bleach swirl down the drain, splattering onto your sleeves.

he keeps mumbling apologies between shivers.

“cold - sorry - fuck, sorry-”

“you’re fine,” you laugh, combing your fingers through his newly blonde buzz, checking for any patches. “c’mon, hold still. you signed up for this.”

he makes a strangled noise. “yeah, yeah. i know.”

by the time you towel him off, his ears are pink, his shirt’s damp at the collar, and his grin’s crooked and half-hidden under his sleeve. you pull on fresh gloves, mix the toner with practiced hands, and work it gently through his hair.

“so you actually have done this before,” he mumbles, eyes half-lidded as you smooth toner over his scalp. “you’re like.. really good at it.”

you hum, amused.

outside the bathroom, you can hear the cats batting something across the floor, tiny paws skittering. it’s quiet otherwise.

when it’s all done - bleach, tone, rinse, and dry - he studies himself in the mirror, lips parted, eyes wide.

“holy shit,” he murmurs, pushing a hand through the short strands of his damp hair “it looks..”

“good,” you finish, grinning as you peel off your gloves. “you look good.”

he turns, grinning, and it’s like for a second he forgets you’re just his client - like maybe in his head you’re something a little closer. but then his eyes dart away, his hand rubs at the back of his neck again, and his mouth fumbles. like always.

“uh- yeah, that’s cool, thanks for, you know- um. yeah.”

you smile, eyeing him. “you’re welcome. i should head out now, though.”

“yeah. yeah, for sure,” he says quickly, following you into the hallway, cats weaving between his ankles. “thanks again. seriously.”

you bend over to give red a scratch under the chin, then blue, feeling hamzah’s gaze flick over you - a little awed, lingering a little too long.

when you straighten up, his hands are shoved deep into his pockets, and he’s chewing on the inside of his cheek like he’s holding back words.

“i’ll see you later, hamzah.” you say, giving him one last glance.

“yeah,” he breathes out, watching you pull the door open. “see you.”

and you both mean it.

because you know this isn’t the last time you’ll be seeing each other outside of a deal.

xoxo giulia

not proofread so be quiet ok

taglist: @gulicore @slushedup @arroganceisherfavoritecolor @layzerzlovesu46 @babysitter19 @marixoa @starjely @viennawaiits @h-yalexaaaa @freakzah444 @anginluv @gabwilliams @sturniyolo @screamertannie @brlwla @yourstrulykiya @thefantastickid @hamzaholic @isathefantastic @divinesturn @forestlv4r @mayapuma20 @ottakugirl @hamzahsbestone @pulcen @rustnroll @venus-planetof-love @hamzahsn1gf @rock678 @wandas-lovey @guiltyfemcel @axetheboyboss @harrys0nlyange1 @ttlynotme @yassqueen1303 @animalcrossingshameless @bigmamaelli @pictureperfectblue @slushingmynoob @cupidsbrainrot @ilovezah

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Hi, could you please write about how Lando finds out that the reader really likes cats, and how he tries to come to terms with it (remember that video where he says that if a person doesn't like dogs but also likes cats it's a red flag).

A Pawful Revelation

Word count: 922

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

________________________________________________________

It started innocently enough. You and Lando were scrolling through your phones one lazy afternoon, each sprawled on opposite ends of his massive couch. The only sound in the room was the faint hum of a race replay on the TV and the occasional flick of your nails on the glass screen.

Lando suddenly perked up, his attention snagged by an adorable video of a Golden Retriever puppy wagging its tail enthusiastically.

“Look at this little guy!” he exclaimed, shoving his phone toward you.

You glanced up from your screen, smiling. “Aww, he’s cute,” you said, but you didn’t look as enthusiastic as Lando clearly wanted you to be. He frowned slightly but didn’t press it.

A moment later, you bit your lip to suppress a smile as you scrolled further down your own feed.

“Why are you grinning like that?” Lando asked, craning his neck to look at your phone.

“Oh, no reason,” you said, too quickly.

“Let me see.”

Before you could stop him, Lando snatched your phone and squinted at the screen. His face twisted into a mixture of amusement and betrayal as he saw the source of your delight: a compilation of cats knocking objects off tables with utter disdain.

“Cats?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief.

“What about them?” you asked innocently, snatching your phone back.

“You… like cats?” he asked, narrowing his eyes like you’d just told him you secretly supported his rival team.

“Of course I do,” you replied, laughing. “They’re hilarious and cute!”

Lando leaned back on the couch, folding his arms as he stared at you, processing this revelation. “Wait, wait. You mean like, really like cats?”

You nodded. “Yeah, they’re amazing. So independent, so sassy. I’ve always loved them.”

He groaned, running a hand through his messy curls. “You’re telling me you’re a cat person?”

“Why do you say it like I just confessed to a crime?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because it’s a red flag!” Lando said, throwing his hands up dramatically.

You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your phone. “Oh, come on, Lando. Are you seriously judging me for liking cats? You like dogs; I like cats. It’s not that deep.”

“But it is!” he insisted, leaning toward you, his tone half-joking but with a hint of genuine worry. “Dogs are loyal, happy, and full of love. Cats are… evil. They scratch you for no reason and knock your stuff over just to annoy you!”

You rolled your eyes. “Cats are misunderstood. They’re affectionate, but on their own terms. They’re like the cool kids of the pet world.”

Lando shook his head, still looking troubled. “I don’t know if I can trust someone who prefers cats over dogs.”

“Oh, please,” you said, giving him a playful shove. “You’re being ridiculous. Besides, I didn’t say I don’t like dogs. I just like cats more.”

“That’s worse!” he exclaimed, pretending to clutch his chest.

You laughed again, but you could tell he was genuinely grappling with this newfound information about you.

Over the next few days, Lando seemed determined to convince you that dogs were superior. He sent you countless videos of puppies doing adorable things, from catching Frisbees to snuggling with their owners. He even tried to recruit his fans into the debate by posting a poll on Instagram: Cats or Dogs?

Despite his efforts, your love for cats remained unwavering. In fact, you doubled down, texting him memes of cats in silly hats and videos of them performing acrobatics.

One day, he showed up at your apartment with a smug grin and a small gift bag.

“What’s this?” you asked, taking the bag from him.

“Just a little something to change your mind,” he said, flopping onto your couch with an air of confidence.

Inside the bag was a pair of socks covered in cartoon dogs and a plush Golden Retriever toy.

“Really, Lando?” you said, holding up the socks.

“What? I’m trying to save you from a life of bad decisions,” he said, grinning.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

The real test came a week later when you convinced Lando to visit a cat café with you. He was reluctant at first, muttering about how he’d probably leave covered in scratches. But when he saw how excited you were, he couldn’t say no.

As soon as you entered, a fluffy gray cat sauntered over to you, meowing softly. Your face lit up as you crouched down to pet it.

Lando watched from a distance, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed. But then a tiny orange kitten climbed onto his lap, purring loudly.

“Uh, what do I do?” he asked, looking slightly panicked.

“Just pet him,” you said, smiling.

Hesitantly, Lando stroked the kitten’s soft fur. The kitten responded by curling up and falling asleep on his lap.

For a moment, Lando looked conflicted, but then a small smile crept onto his face.

“See?” you said, sitting beside him. “Cats aren’t so bad.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, trying to hide his grin. “This one’s alright, I guess.”

By the time you left the café, Lando had a newfound appreciation for cats. While he still insisted that dogs were better, he grudgingly admitted that cats weren’t the villains he’d made them out to be.

And as you walked back to the car, he slipped his hand into yours and said, “Okay, fine. Maybe I can tolerate your cat obsession. But only because it’s you.”

[plutosunshine]

What gifts of destiny do you have? Venus trines

Venus trine Moon

Venus trine Moon is like having a built-in emotional hot chocolate machine. Your vibes? Cozy. Your energy? Comforting. People meet you and instantly want to tell you their childhood secrets or ask if you’ve got snacks (you probably do).

This aspect makes your emotional world and your love language play nice together. The Moon handles your feelings, your instincts, your “aww I saw a puppy and now I’m crying” side. Venus handles what you love, how you show affection, and your overall vibe. When they’re in a trine? They high-five each other and go, “We got this.”

You're probably one of those people who just gets others. Not in a creepy “I know your password” way, but in that warm “I see your heart and I made banana bread” kind of way. Emotional intelligence? Check. Natural empathy? Double check. People feel safe around you—like you’d never judge them for crying over a cartoon or texting their ex (again).

In relationships, you’re nurturing but not clingy. Affectionate but not smothering. You know how to love in a way that feels like coming home. Romantic partner, friend, cat—whoever gets close to you ends up spoiled emotionally and probably also with snacks. You’re basically the human version of a warm blanket that listens.

And let’s not forget the aesthetic instincts. You probably have a knack for making spaces feel lovely and emotionally calming—like, “this room smells like vanilla and looks like Pinterest, how??” You bring sweetness into your environment and relationships without even trying. It’s your natural setting.

So yeah—Venus trine Moon = emotional harmony, effortless sweetness, the ability to cry at sunsets and make others feel like they're not weird for doing the same. You're the friend everyone wants during a breakup and the partner that people write poems about. No big deal.

Venus trine Mars

Venus trine Mars is pure cosmic chemistry—like the universe looked at you and said, “Let’s make someone who knows how to mix sweet with spicy.”

This aspect gives you that effortless charm-meets-confidence energy. You’re magnetic without being overbearing, flirtatious without being cringe, and somehow you make going after what you want look like art. People don’t just get attracted to you—they get drawn in like moths to a scented candle.

Venus is all about love, beauty, harmony. Mars is passion, action, desire. When they’re in a trine? They’re vibing. That means your inner lover and your inner go-getter are on the same page. So whether you’re trying to start a creative project, impress a crush, or pick the perfect outfit—you're guided by this smooth coordination of wanting and doing.

In relationships, you’re probably equal parts affectionate and exciting. You know when to be soft and when to bring the fire. You’re not just charming—you’re compelling. The kind of person people remember as “ugh, they were just so attractive and cool and I don’t know why.”

And in creative work? That Venus-Mars flow gives you the perfect mix of inspiration and execution. You don’t just daydream about your Pinterest-perfect life—you might actually build it. With mood boards. And maybe some dramatic eyeliner.

Also, your relationship with pleasure? Healthy. Balanced. Not too much, not too little. You know how to enjoy life, and you probably have great taste—whether it’s in people, playlists, or what snack to pair with a good movie.

So yeah—Venus trine Mars is a gift. It makes your energy feel aligned, attractive, and easy to act on. You’ve got the cosmic green light to be a little flirty, a little bold, and a whole lot of magnetic.

Venus trine Jupiter

Venus trine Jupiter is like the universe handed you a giant, glittery “YES” stamp for life. It’s the ultimate feel-good, good-vibes-only aspect. Venus is love, beauty, charm. Jupiter is luck, joy, and expansion. When they team up in a trine? You radiate warmth like a freshly baked croissant in the sun.

People with this aspect are blessed with big hearts. Like, “randomly buys coffee for the person behind them in line” energy. Your kindness isn’t performative—it’s just how you operate. Generosity is your love language. And when you love someone? Whew. They’re getting affection, encouragement, snacks, emotional support, AND possibly travel plans.

You're also probably a little lucky in love and money—even if things get rocky, Venus trine Jupiter folks tend to bounce back with style (and maybe a new haircut). The universe seems to have a soft spot for you. You attract abundance because you live in that mindset—there’s always more beauty to create, more love to give, more joy to find.

You might have a natural sense of aesthetics too—big, bold, joyful beauty. Venus-Jupiter doesn’t do minimalism unless it’s “Italian villa minimalism.” Think lush colors, dramatic earrings, and laughing at your own jokes while wearing fabulous shoes.

In relationships, you bring sunshine. You’re romantic, optimistic, and probably the type who plans cute dates with themes. You don’t love small—you love out loud. And people feel good around you because your energy says, “You’re safe, loved, and we’re probably going to brunch after this.”

And honestly? You make people believe in good things again. You're the human version of finding twenty bucks in your coat pocket and someone telling you your aura looks amazing today.

So yeah—Venus trine Jupiter is the gift of a joyful heart, big love, and the kind of sparkle that makes life feel a little more magical. ✨

Venus trine Saturn

Venus trine Saturn is like the cosmic version of "loyal with taste." It’s the aspect that says, “Sure, I can fall in love—but only if it has emotional maturity, long-term potential, and maybe a five-year plan.” And somehow, you make that sound hot.

While Venus is out here flirting, curating playlists, and swooning over aesthetics, Saturn strolls in like, “Okay, but can we build something real?” And when they’re in a trine? Boom—magic. You get that beautiful balance of heart and structure, softness and stability. You're the person who brings flowers and remembers to pay the bills.

In love, this aspect makes you steady, loyal, and probably way more romantic than you let on. You might not write love poems in public (unless other parts of your chart say otherwise), but your actions? Speak volumes. You show love through commitment, support, and actually showing up—consistently. You’re the “I’ll help you move apartments and won’t complain once” type. And honestly, that’s rare and wildly attractive.

You're also really good at knowing your worth. Venus brings the charm and Saturn brings the standards. So you can enjoy romance without losing your head (or your dignity). You’re not likely to chase fleeting drama—you’d rather invest in something meaningful, even if it takes time. And your love? Ages like wine.

Creatively, you combine beauty with discipline. You can turn aesthetics into something practical—art that sells, style that lasts, design that works. You might even have a gift for turning hobbies into long-term projects, or making your creative side pay rent.

And money? You’re probably responsible with it. You enjoy life’s pleasures, but you’re also thinking ahead. Venus trine Saturn is the person who saves for vacation and packs snacks for the plane.

So yeah—Venus trine Saturn isn’t flashy, but it’s gold. It’s commitment, grace, and long-term glow-up energy. You don’t just love deeply—you love wisely. And that? Is beautiful.

Venus trine Uranus

Venus trine Uranus is the cosmic version of “I love you, but let’s keep it interesting.” It’s the kind of aspect that adds ✨spice✨ to sweetness—think electric charm, creative rebellion, and a love life that’s anything but boring (in the best way).

Venus is all about love, beauty, connection. Uranus is the planet of surprises, freedom, and “Wait, what if we did it completely differently?” Put them in a trine, and you get someone who loves with a twist.

You’re probably effortlessly magnetic—not in a loud or over-the-top way, but in that “who is that and why do they look like they just stepped out of a dream I didn’t know I had?” kind of way. People are drawn to you because you feel exciting, original, and genuinely yourself. You’re the cool breeze on a hot day, the plot twist in a rom-com, the person who can pull off silver eyeliner at brunch.

In relationships, you need spark—and freedom. You’re affectionate, but you’re not about that clingy life. You want connection that breathes. You’re into people who can surprise you, challenge you, or at least talk about weird science facts at 2 a.m. You might fall in love fast—but if it turns routine and stale? You’re already mentally redecorating your life.

And your sense of style? ICONIC. Venus-Uranus people often have amazing taste that’s just a little ahead of the curve. You might wear things that shouldn’t work… but totally do. Your aesthetic says, “I make my own trends,” and people follow.

Creatively, this aspect is genius. Literally. You get flashes of inspiration that feel like lightning bolts. One minute you’re folding laundry, the next you’ve invented a brand new art style or business idea. You thrive when you can innovate, experiment, and break a few rules in the name of beauty or fun.

Basically, Venus trine Uranus is the gift of loving freely, creating boldly, and dancing to your own (very catchy) beat. You don’t just think outside the box—you turn the box into a disco ball.

Venus trine Neptune

Venus trine Neptune is pure dreamboat energy. It’s the "poetry in motion" aspect—the kind of placement that makes you love like a movie, create like a muse, and daydream like it's a full-time job (with benefits).

Venus is love, beauty, art, connection. Neptune is magic, fantasy, spirituality, and soft-focus filters on everything. When these two are vibing in a trine? You’ve got a heart that floats. You don’t just feel love—you merge souls. You don’t just like pretty things—you fall in love with sunsets, songs, strangers’ handwriting, and maybe even clouds.

You radiate sweetness, compassion, and that ethereal softness that makes people think, “Are they real… or are they a character in a romantic French film?” There’s something dreamy and gentle about you, and people feel it. They might not even be able to explain why they’re drawn to you—they just are.

Love, for you, is spiritual. You're the type who writes little love notes, dreams of soulmates, and maybe secretly wants someone to slow dance with you in the kitchen at 2 a.m. You believe in love. Deeply. Even when the world gets cynical, your heart quietly insists: "No, it's still real."

Creatively? Oh, you’re a vibe. This aspect brings serious artistic potential—music, dance, painting, writing, photography, design—all of it. You create beauty that speaks to the soul. Even if you’re just decorating your living room, it probably looks like a Pinterest board made by an angel with excellent taste.

You’re also super empathetic—like, “accidentally cried watching a stranger reunite with their dog” levels of emotional openness. Your kindness isn’t performative; it’s just who you are. But that does mean you need to protect your energy, because you can absorb emotions like a sponge in a telenovela.

So yeah—Venus trine Neptune gives you the gift of beauty, love, and enchantment. You’re the heart-softener, the daydream-weaver, the cosmic reminder that love can still be tender and real. Just maybe keep your feet on the ground while your head floats in the stars. 💫

Venus trine Pluto

Venus trine Pluto? Ohhh baby. That’s the slow burn, deep soul, intense eye contact across a crowded room aspect. It’s magnetic, emotional, and just the right amount of mysterious. Like, you might not even say much, but somehow people feel like you see right into their soul—and weirdly, they kind of love it.

Venus is love, beauty, connection. Pluto is transformation, power, and everything that simmers under the surface. When they’re in a trine, you get the kind of charm that doesn’t ask for attention—it commands it. Quietly. Intensely. With raised eyebrows and smoldering vibes.

In love, you don’t do shallow. You want all of it—the passion, the soul bond, the “I’d help you bury the body” kind of loyalty. You’re not out here for flings (unless your Gemini placements are protesting)—you want to be consumed, in the best possible way. You crave real connection. None of that situationship nonsense.

People with this aspect tend to attract deep, powerful love stories—sometimes even life-changing ones. You’re the person others never quite forget. (Even if they try. Which they will. But they won’t succeed.)

There’s also this quiet confidence to you when it comes to beauty and attraction. You don’t need to follow trends or be loud about it—you just know how to work with what you’ve got. Venus trine Pluto is like wearing perfume that no one can place, but everyone keeps leaning in to smell.

Creatively, this aspect is fire. You can turn pain into art, passion into poetry, and longing into something unforgettable. You’re drawn to beauty with depth—music that aches, films that stir something, aesthetics that say “there’s more beneath the surface.”

And honestly? You’ve probably done some serious inner work in your life. You know what it means to grow through love, to heal through heartbreak, and to come out the other side even more powerful. Venus trine Pluto gives you the gift of transformational love—the kind that changes you, and the kind you give to others.

So yeah—this aspect isn’t light and fluffy. It’s rich, deep, powerful, and just the right level of “I feel things too hard but I make it look cool.” You’re the storm and the stillness after.

[no-144444]

brother's teammate- j.doohan

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Day 3 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: it's not your fault your brothers' new teammate is hot.

pairing: jack doohan x gasly! reader

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y/ngasly

2,734,156 likes, liked by charlesleclerc, pierregasly, jackdoohan and others

y/ngasly: Paris is cool ig, onto Melbourne for the start of the season!

comments

user73: 2 mill likes in 3 minutes is crazy

user92: It's so funny that she's more famous than her brother all because of her youtube channel where she talks about her brother (and the races but like yk what i mean)

user82: She's literally the prettiest girl ever

liked by carmenmundt

carmenmundt: Can't wait to see you!

lilymhe: Please visit the Williams garage!!! (it's so boring there)

rebeccadonaldson: Please stop by the Ferrari garage! -> alexandriastmleux: I second this!

lilyzneimer: Please stop by the McLaren garage! (lando is driving me crazy) -> Oscarpiastri: She not lying, you're the only one who knows how to shut him up -> y/ngasly: Give him a treat and a ball and he'll shut up for like 3 hours, simple as that. -> user72: LMAO IS HE A DOG???

pierregasly: Didn't invite me to Paris? -> y/ngasly: It was a mother-daughter trip dipshit. You were too busy with your boyfriend anyways 🤷🤷🤷 -> charlesleclerc: Not my boyfriend** -> y/ngasly: oh sure, we all believe you -> arthurleclerc: exactly, lying to yourself is always a healthy way to cope!

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jackdoohan

848,938 likes liked by pierregasly, y/ngasly, landonorris and others

jackdoohan: First day on the job! FP1 and 2 went pretty well today, p6, and p4, car is feeling good, ready for quali tomorrow!

comments y/ngasly: that was such a slay though -> jackdoohan: oh good! my internet history is already coming back to haunt me! yay! -> y/ngasly: don't worry babe, i'll only bring it up in your instagram comments -> user23: BABE????? -> pierregasly: 🤨 -> charlesleclerc: 🤨 -> arthurleclerc: 🤨 -> oscarpiastri: 🤨 -> carlossainz: 🤨 -> landonorris: 🤨 ->yukitsunoda: 🤨

user83: OMG I NEED HIM HE'S SO BABYGIRL

user82: bro is bringing that lump of shit (the alpine car) to the top 4? did i hear GOAT?

use80: Y/N CALLED HIM BABE I HAVE NO CHANCE NOW (i never did)

user28: Jack and Y/n???? -> pierregasly: I vote a big no on that one -> kikagomez: Awww! I vote yes!

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pierregasly

983,473 likes liked by jackdoohan, y/ngasly, charlesleclerc and others

pierregasly: New year, new teammate! Love you mate (stay away from my sister or I will genuinely cut your eyes out of your head) @/jackdoohan congrats on P5 in Melbourne, onto China!

comments

y/ngasly: I see we're being very normal about everything right now

jackdoohan: Oh!

kikagomez: Pierre! stop this madness.

user70: Y/NJACK SHIPPER FOR LIFE blocked by pierregasly

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y/ngasly:

8,938,837 likes liked by pierregasly, jackdoohan, charles leclerc and others

y/ngasly: out and about with the pookies this week in Japan

comments

pierregasly: would've been a nicer photo dump if you didn't include HIM -> y/ngasly: who? ur boyfriend and how he chose to spend time with me? -> yukistunonda: no babe, i promise it meant nothing! -> pierregasly: did Y/n steal your phone? ->yukitsunonda: yeah...

arthurleclerc: I stay looking mildly confused 👍

kimiantonelli: great pictures 👍 love u Y/n -> user81: OMG KIMI AND Y?N??? ->y/ngasly: nah polly not.

jackdoohan: wonder who that is? 🧐 -> y/ngasly: not telling -> jackdoohan: not telling the bestie?🥺 ->y/ngasly: NO.

landonorris: Slay picture of me

lewishamilton: aww me and the kiddos!

pierregasly: where's the unlike button? -> y/ngasly: haters you can kys -nicki minaj

charlesleclerc: they grow up so fast! ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

pierregasly:

973,826 likes lied by jackdoohan, y/ngasly, and others

pierregasly: Over and out Japan, P6 for me and P4 for Jackie!

comments

y/ngasly: Jackie slayed!!! -> jackdoohan: thanks Y/n! -> pierregasly: you don't deserve happiness.

user89: PIERRE GOES FOR THE NECK

user92: we are one race in and the girls are already fighting

user29: we are so back guys (i'm delusional)

user02: JACKY/N is SO real guys!!! (i'm delusional)

user58: p4 for Jack? SLAYYY

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jackdoohan

684,938 likes, liked by y/ngasly, pierregasly, kikagomez

jackdoohan: P4 sounds pretty damn good to me 😁

comments

kikagomez: congratulations Jack!

y/ngasly: eating my brother up as per usual (slay)

landonorris: YAY! (stay behind me please)

oscarpiastri: WOOHOO!

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y/ngasly:

1,839,029 likes liked by pierregasly, jackdoohan, and others

y/ngasly: when ur dumbass brother dnfs 😹 PODIUM FOR JACKIE WOOOOOHOOOOO!

comments

charlesleclerc: y/njack is so real rn ->user73: CONFIRMATION???? ->user46: HUH -> pierregasly: BLOCKED.

jackdoohan: thanks y/n :) -> y/ngasly: no problemo!

oscarpiastri: Jack Doohan world domination would've bored some... -> landonorris: EWW HE'S USING GEN Z TERMS! -> y/ngasly: the exclaimation point at the end gave me the biggest ick known to mankind -> landonorris: I will expose ur relationship right fucking now mate -> y/ngasly: at least I'm in a relationship lol -> user73: Y/NJACK ARE SO REALLLLL

user83: WHO IS HE Y/N PLZ TELL ME!!!!!!! ->user64: It HAS to be Jack, right? It makes sense! -> user46: delusion.

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f1gossip:

837,474 likes liked by pierregasly, landonorris, and others

f1gossip: Y/n Gasly, sister of F1 driver Pierre Gasly has been stirring up rumours with one of this years most successful rookies! Jack Doohan, fellow Alpine driver has been seen in her comment section and likes, and they are pretty close in person too! What do we all think of this? Will they be debuting at Miami?

comments

user56: Not Lando and Pierre in the likes rn

pierregasly: I think you're delusional.

user47: They're so cute together thooooo

user42: did y'all see the way he looked at her after the race in Bahrain? That is a man in looovvvveeeee

user57: they're so cute together

user38: no cuz I ship it so hard

user22: Imma need an alchemy edit right NOW

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y/ngasly:

7,892,374 likes liked by jackdoohan, oscarpiastri, danielriccardo and others

y/ngasly: WIN FOR MY SEXY BOYFRIEND!!! THANK U MIAMI

comments

user83: Ik pierre is RAGING

kikagomez: my heart❤️❤️❤️

pierregasly: delete this rn. ->y/ngasly: prolly not...

jackdoohan: i love you ❤️ -> y/ngasly: simping on the main? cringe. -> jackdoohan: great job at humbling me, thanks 👍 -> y/ngasly: can't let you get too big for your boots :)

landonorris: I KNEW FROM THE BEGINNING!

danielriccardo: Glad the advice paid off :) -> jackdoohan: sure did 👍

user74: THEY'RE SO CUTE!!!!

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pierregasly

837,479 likes liked by charles leclerc, y/ngasly, jackdoohan and others

pierregasly: A) Yes, they're dating. B) yes I'm upset about it. C) Well done on the win Jackie (I WANT TO CLAW MY EYES OUT AT THE PICTURE OF YOU TWO GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER YOU FREAKY AUSTRALIAN!)

comments

y/ngasly: please take this down I'll call mom.

jackdoohan: Thanks Pierre! (choosing to ignore the caption!)

user72: NO WAY HE CONFIRMED WHAT????

user64: They're so cutie!!!!!!!!

kikagomez: Stop threatening Jack, Pierre. He's a kid. -> jackdoohan: ??? ->Y/ngasly: mate she's defending you I would not push it. ->jackdoohan: thanks Kika!

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen

[amirasainz]

Driver Reader x driver, where she shows up with her boyfriend for the first time and all the drivers are super protective. But her boyfriend is just someone normal.

Please and thank you♥️♥️♥️

Ahhh, so cute♡♡♡

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

The Boyfriend

Yn adjusted her Red Bull cap, glancing over her shoulder with a smile as she walked hand-in-hand with Tony. It wasn’t the first time she’d been to the paddock, of course—she was the youngest driver on the grid and had become a regular fixture in the F1 world. But this was the first time she’d brought her boyfriend, Tony, with her. Tony, a calm and level-headed veterinarian, was about as far from the chaotic world of motorsport as one could get. He was supportive, quiet, and always knew how to ground her when the pressure of racing got too intense.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Yn asked, glancing up at him. "I mean, it's kind of a circus in here."

Tony chuckled, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm fine, Yn. Honestly, you're more nervous than I am."

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. "You have no idea what you're in for. These guys… they act like I'm their little sister. They're going to be all over you."

As they approached the Red Bull garage, Yn spotted a few drivers milling about. Charles and Lando were chatting near the McLaren garage, but their conversation halted the second they saw Yn and Tony approaching. Both of them exchanged a glance, and then their eyes shifted to Tony.

"Here we go," Yn muttered under her breath, bracing herself for what was coming.

Lando was the first to approach, a wide grin on his face as he clapped his hands together. "Yn! And who do we have here?" His eyes flickered to Tony, and he looked him up and down like a detective trying to figure out a mystery. "This must be Tony, the famous boyfriend we’ve heard so much about."

Tony gave a polite smile, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you, Lando."

Lando shook his hand, his grin never fading but his eyes clearly sizing Tony up. "So... what do you do, Tony?"

"I'm a vet," Tony replied, meeting Lando's gaze with calm confidence.

"A vet?" Charles piped up, stepping closer. "Like... animals?"

Tony nodded. "Yep. Mostly dogs and cats, but I’ve worked with horses, too."

Charles blinked, as if trying to wrap his head around this very normal profession in their very not-normal world. "Huh. That’s... cool."

Yn rolled her eyes playfully, leaning into Tony. "Told you they’d act weird."

Before Tony could reply, Max walked over, his usual serious expression in place, though his eyes softened when he saw Yn. "Hey, Yn. Tony, right?"

Tony nodded, shaking Max’s hand. "Yeah, that’s me."

Max studied him for a moment, his arms crossed. "You treat Yn well?"

Yn groaned. "Max—"

But Tony smiled, unbothered. "I do my best."

Max nodded slowly, as if he were making a mental note. "Good." He turned to Yn, giving her a rare, small smile. "He seems solid."

"Solid?" Yn raised an eyebrow, amused. "He’s not a car, Max."

Max shrugged, unbothered. "Same concept."

As the group continued to chat, Daniel appeared, sunglasses perched on his head and his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. "Oh, oh, oh! What do we have here? Yn and her mysterious vet boyfriend!" He walked up to Tony and threw an arm around his shoulder, like they were old friends. "So, Tony... tell me. How’s it feel dating an F1 driver?"

Tony chuckled, glancing at Yn. "Pretty amazing, honestly. I get to see her do what she loves."

Daniel’s grin widened. "Aww, you’re sweet. You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?"

"Obviously," Yn interjected, giving Daniel a playful shove. "I wouldn’t date him if he wasn’t."

Tony, meanwhile, was taking it all in stride, answering the barrage of questions with ease. Yn watched him, her heart swelling with pride. He was so calm, so collected—completely unfazed by the whirlwind of personalities that surrounded him. And the way he looked at her, his eyes soft and full of love, made her feel like the luckiest person in the world.

As they moved through the paddock, the other drivers seemed to subtly check in on Tony. Fernando gave him a polite nod as they passed by, though Yn caught the slight smirk on Nando’s face when he saw Tony’s hand resting gently on her back. Even Lewis, ever the cool and composed champion, gave Tony a once-over when they crossed paths, offering a brief, “Nice to meet you, mate,” before flashing Yn a knowing smile.

The protective energy from the drivers was palpable, but none of them were over the top. They all seemed to recognize that Yn was happy, and that was what mattered most. Even when Valtteri walked by, eyeing the couple with his usual stoic expression, he paused just long enough to look Tony up and down.

"I approve," Valtteri said simply, giving a nod before continuing on his way.

Yn couldn’t help but laugh. "See? They’re ridiculous."

Tony smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear in that gentle way he always did. "They care about you. That’s not ridiculous."

She sighed, leaning into his touch. "Yeah, they do. They’re like a bunch of overprotective big brothers."

As they reached the Red Bull garage, Yn began talking animatedly with one of the mechanics about the upcoming race, her hands flying through the air as she explained something technical. Tony stood by her side, watching her with quiet admiration. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

From a distance, Lando nudged Charles, nodding in their direction. "Look at them."

Charles followed his gaze, watching as Tony gently pushed Yn’s hair out of her face while she continued to talk. The way Tony handled her bag, carrying it without a second thought, and the way he listened so attentively—it was clear to everyone how much he adored her.

"They’re cute," Charles admitted with a small smile. "Really cute."

Lando grinned, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I guess he’s not so bad. If Yn’s happy, we’re happy, right?"

Max, overhearing their conversation, gave a rare, genuine smile. "Exactly."

As the day went on, the drivers slowly relaxed around Tony, realizing that there was no need to be overprotective. Tony wasn’t just some guy; he was someone who genuinely cared for Yn, who loved her with his whole heart. They could see it in the little things—the way he looked at her, the way he was always aware of her, making sure she was comfortable, happy, and safe.

By the time the paddock began to wind down for the evening, Yn and Tony were sitting together near the Red Bull motorhome, Yn’s head resting on Tony’s shoulder as they watched the last of the mechanics pack up.

"See?" Yn murmured, her eyes half-closed. "Told you they’d be protective."

Tony chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Yeah, but they mean well. They just love you."

Yn smiled, her heart warm. "Yeah, I know. But they’re gonna have to get used to the idea that I’m not their little sister forever."

Tony grinned. "Good luck with that."

Just then, George walked by, flashing them a thumbs-up. "You guys are adorable. Officially ship it."

Yn groaned, burying her face in Tony’s shoulder, and Tony just laughed. "Told you it’d be fine," he whispered.

And as they sat there, wrapped up in each other, Yn realized that he was right. Everything was more than fine—it was perfect.

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER THIRTEEN: hit and miss

masterlist

You find yourself enveloped in a haze, unsure of how you arrived in this space or even where "here" truly is. The atmosphere is thick with the intoxicating blend of sweet vanilla, sweat and sex, hinting at a vibrant gathering. The pulsing rhythm of music resonates around you, suggesting a celebration of sorts.

Oh that’s right you were at Aphrodite. How you got here remains unclear as you find yourself within a sea of bodies, still developing some sort of consciousness. The vibrant surroundings crystallize in your mind, each colour and sound sharpening as you strive to regain your bearings.

“... okay?”

You look up, meeting his piercing green eyes and that all-too-familiar smirk.

“I asked if you’re feeling okay!” he shouts, his voice straining against the vibrant pulse of Don Toliver’s music, but his voice gets lost in the crowd.

You nod, still grappling with your hazy awareness, unwilling to disrupt the lively atmosphere that surrounds you.

Sensing your unease, Megumi takes your hand, guiding you away from the dance floor.

“Noooo, Megumi, where are we going?” you protest, but curiosity compels you to follow.

He remains silent, leading you to a quieter space—the bar.

With a smooth motion, he pulls out a barstool for you, his gaze encouraging you to take a seat. You oblige, sinking into the cool leather as the world around you begins to settle.

“Aww, since when did you become such a gentleman, Megumi?” you tease, a playful smile breaking through your earlier haze.

“Oh, shut up,” he replies, rolling his eyes with feigned annoyance. But the warmth in his smile reveals a deeper affection, softening his initial retort.

You rest your cheek on your hand, pondering how it escapes you that he doesn’t have a girlfriend by now. It’s ironic, considering your situation; while you were entangled with different guys almost every night, never once looking back, he seemed to seek something deeper.

With Megumi, it felt different—more significant, more real.

“Last time we were here, you told me you didn’t sleep virgins,” he remarks, and you roll your eyes in response.

“We both know you weren’t a virgin,” you retort, a playful smirk creeping across your lips.

“How’d you know?” he asks, that familiar glint in his green eyes.

“You didn’t fuck like one,” you reply, eliciting a genuine laugh from him. The sound sparks joy in you, and for a moment, everything else fades away. If you could freeze any moment in time, it would be this one.

But then he glances around the bar, his expression shifting. “Where the hell is the bartender? They have one job, for fucks sake. Hold on, baby, I’m going to get us more drinks.”

Before you can respond to the affectionate nickname, he’s off, leaving you with a swirl of warmth and confusion. Baby. Again with the baby. does he relish the fact that it sounds when it falls from his lips with ease? I mean so did you, but it feels like it just slips out more often these days.

A few moments later, a shadow settles into the seat beside you.

“Took you long enough i-“ you stop, frozen at what’s before you. Or more like who’s before you.

You turn, expecting Megumi, but your breath catches in your throat as you freeze at what’s before you. Or more like who’s before you

“Sukuna?”

“We need to talk, doll.”

“Are you fucking following me?” Your irritation sharpens the air between you.

“Do you really think blocking me will free you from me that easily?” He leans in, his fingers grazing your cheek softly. But that touch feels foreign and hollow—nothing like the warmth you’ve experienced with Megumi.

“I thought you would know better than that, doll.”

You quickly swat his hand away, anger igniting within you. “Sukuna, this is the last time I’ll say it: I’m over you.” You enunciate each word, striving to make it clear.

“Yeah, but will you still be over me when you’re reaching out at 2 AM?” He smirks, a self-assured glint in his eyes that only deepens your frustration.

His confidence is so fucking infuriating

“I don’t need you and that weak dick of yours, so leave me the fuck alone.” The words escape your lips with a finality that reverberates in the charged air as you rise from the stool, determined to walk away.

But before you can move, his hand shoots out, grasping your arm and digging into it - halting you from your progress.

“Let go of me, Sukuna before I break your fucking arm,” you warn, your voice calm yet laced with intensity.

You seize his wrist, twisting it with the intent to escape, trying to maneuver your way free. But he holds on, his grip resolute, leaving you grappling with a sense of frustration as you realise that your efforts are in vain.

“Give me a kiss, and I’ll let you go,” he says, smirking up at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sukuna? I’m not kissing your pasty ass lips,” you reply, your voice sharp and full of contempt.

The disdain in your tone mirrors the intensity of your glare, the space between you charged with tension as his audacity hangs in the air. You can feel your pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and disbelief coursing through you as you confront his outrageous demands.

You struggle against his grip, but it only tightens, the pressure escalating as you fight to break free.

His nails start to dig into your arms. Harder and harder. Your eyes start to water, not only from the pain but also the humiliation it’s bringing you.

And you bruise easily. Just fucking great. Another reminder of tonight’s events engraved into your arm.

“What’s happening here?” a commanding voice booms from behind you.

You turn to find Megumi standing there, you’ve never been happier to see him more than now. Your knight in shining armour.

Sukuna glances at him, his expression a mix of disdain and challenge. “None of your business, pretty boy,” he snaps, dismissing Megumi with a condescending glance. “You’d best get lost.”

“Actually, she is my business,” Megumi replies, his tone firm and unwavering as he steps closer, exuding an air of protection.

Sukuna releases your arm at those words, and Megumi steps in, towering over you with an air of authority. His hands settle firmly on your shoulders, a palpable sense of protectiveness radiating from him, enveloping you in a reassuring warmth. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat contrasting with the tension of the moment.

Is a heart supposed to race this fast?

The proximity is electric, leaving you caught between the lingering threat of Sukuna and the comfort of Megumi’s presence.

He watches the two of you with keen interest, and you can almost see the pieces clicking together in his mind as realisation dawns.

“Ohoho, look at you, doll, already found yourself another boyfriend,” he remarks slyly, a smirk playing on his lips.

You feel Megumi's heart race beneath your fingertips, the tension palpable.

“You know,” Sukuna begins, clicking his tongue as if savouring the moment, “I could never fully trust you when we were together. The thought of you with another guy always haunted me.” He chuckles, a mocking tone threading through his words.

But now, Megumi’s heartbeat quickens, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken emotions.

“You were always throwing yourself at the first guy who showed you attention. Now that I think of it, you were such a slu-” Before he could finish, the words were abruptly silenced by the sharp impact of a fist meeting his mouth.

You find yourself pushed aside, an unwilling witness to what can only be described as the beatdown of the century unfolding mere feet away. Under normal circumstances, you might savour the spectacle of your ex finally facing the consequences of his actions, but the shots of vodka you indulged in hours earlier weigh heavily on your senses, leaving you disoriented and queasy.

The chaos engulfs you, the details of the fight slipping away like water through your fingers.

The jarring sounds of glass shattering and fists colliding pierce the air, each impact reverberating in your chest. When you glance down, dread washes over you as you see blood staining your skirt - a visceral reminder of the violence erupting around you.

You feel immobilised a sense of disbelief locking you in place as the intensity of as the scene unfolds before you. It isn’t until one of the indifferent bartenders vaults over the counter to intervene that clarity begins to seep back in.

You glance at Megumi, whose face is now smeared with blood - you can’t tell if it’s his or Sukuna's. Suddenly, your instincts kick in, propelling you into action as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

“Megumi, oh my god,” you gasp, your hands instinctively moving to cradle his face, fingers trembling as you make contact. He flinches slightly at your touch, the pain etched in his expression.

“We need to get out of here,” you insist, urgency lacing your voice.

Taking charge, you grasp his hand and lead him through the chaos, your determination unwavering. Spotting an Uber, you don’t hesitate.

“Change the address,” you command the driver, your tone leaving no room for argument.

The car ride stretches on, filled with your anxious inquiries of “Where does it hurt?” punctuated by his resolute refusals of “No, I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

Each response intensifies your concern, yet you remain focused, channelling all your energy into ensuring his safety, aware that the night has already spiralled too far out of control.

—

You find yourselves in your bathroom, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension as you meticulously stitches the cut on his forehead. He perches on the edge of the makeup-stained sink, watching you intently as you focus on the gash near his temple, your lips pursed to one side in concentration.

“It might scar,” you say, glancing up momentarily, a hint of concern in your voice.

“Or it might look hot, who knows?” he replies, a teasing light in his eyes that briefly cuts through the seriousness of the moment.

You shake her head, a faint smile playing at the corners of your mouth as you continue to clean the blood from his face. “You didn’t have to do that, Megumi.”

“I’m not going to let you take some random’s shit,” he replies firmly, the conviction in his tone unwavering.

“You shouldn’t have to go through that,” you countered softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek with the cloth, the intimacy of the gesture sending a jolt of connection between them.

“He wasn’t just some random,” you begin, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “He’s my ex.”

Megumi’s eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his face.

“It’s a long story,” you continue, drawing a deep breath to steady yourself. “The short version is that we dated for two years - on and off. We weren’t good for each other; hell, we were toxic. Eventually, I realised being codependent was not hot girl shit, so I walked away.”

“Looks like he’s back in town.”

He observes you, his expression turning serious, the weight of your revelation settling heavily between them.

“I’m sorry,” is all he manages, the gravity of her past hanging in the air, leaving an undeniable tension that neither of them can ignore.

“Yeah, it is what it is. I hate him, though,” you confess, your voice wavering as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The weight of your emotions is palpable, revealing a deeper turmoil beneath your words.

“All finished!” you proclaim, forcing a bright smile as you quickly turn away, hastily wiping your eyes before he can notice your vulnerability.

The abrupt shift feels almost jarring as if you’re desperately trying to mask the storm brewing within you, the facade of strength clashing with the rawness of your feelings. In that fleeting moment, the contrast between your bravado and heartache hangs heavily in the air.

He turns her around slowly, his fingertips grazing her arm with a delicate touch. “Your arm…” he murmurs, concern deepening in his voice as the bruising intensifies with each passing minute.

You brush his hand away, deflecting both his touch and his worries. “I’m fine, Megumi. Really, don’t worry about me.”

“Yn.” His grip tightens around your hand, his gaze piercing into yours. In that moment, you feel an unexpected pang in your heart—a warmth unfurling within your chest. This sensation is new; it’s different. With Sukuna, such feelings never stirred in you.

Your eyes lock, a glimmer of hope shimmering in yours, while his expression softens with a simmer of affection. “Please, Yn, let me help you,” he implores, brushing his thumb tenderly across your palm.

You smile, not merely in response to his actions but because of his words. For the first time, someone sees beyond your body, caring for you in a way that transcends physical wounds. In this moment, you grasp the essence of love - authentic and profound.

And that feeling? It’s with Megumi.

extras!

• yasss aphrodite mention again😍 sorry for the mess that omi has to clean up ree…

• got confirmed that aphrodite DOES play don toliver thank yew

• if ur wondering where the others where just imagine the famous met gala bathroom pic but exclude megumi and yn (probably smoking weed or something idk)

• tbh guys i honestly don’t know who would have won that fight i’ll leave it up to you guys to decide…

• uber driver thought he was getting robbed..

• he was TOO tired to deal with their shit

• trust the bathroom scene was INTIMATE it was like 3am…

• megumi slept over and the others took pictures of ynmegumi when they got home and sent it to the groupchat LOL

a/n: this one is late bc i was up watching princess and the frog with my niece again😭 but let’s be real when am i EVER on time posting… also officially got the ick by sukuna im this one i don’t know how im going to defend him… but i hope u guys enjoyed this chap :3

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[j2hoes]

Hopes And Fears - Part Five. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Wordcount: 2.9K

Y/N's death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can't even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Warning: Mature Language, Sexual Assault, Murder

A/N: Part five is finally here and guess what? Without spoiling anything, things are ramping up a notch. This part is pretty much just pure fluff so I hope you enjoy.

Previous Parts: One. Two. Three. Four.

“I was murdered.”

Nerves course through my body as I feel the stares of each ghost piercing into me. Daring to note their expressions, I notice that not one of them appears to be judging me. Mr Martin’s expression appears curious, Wally a combination of shock and sympathy, Charlie proud, even Rhonda offers me a comforting smile.

“I’m still not ready to talk about it but now you know.”

“Thank you for sharing that with the group Y/N. Do you feel better, like a weight has been lifted from you now that you’ve started the process to move on?” Mr Martin asks, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, encouraging me to open up more to the group of ghosts.

“Not really.” I state, allowing myself to sigh and slump further back into the chair. “I feel the same. You bang on about how opening up will make me feel better and allow me to move on every single session but I don’t feel like I’m moving on.”

“Well it’s like Mr Martin says, moving on and processing our deaths take time. You’ve been dead what three weeks. We’ve all had years to process these things, trust us, you will feel lighter eventually.” Charlie adds, attempting to make me feel better.

“I mean yeah, you may feel upset or angry now and that’s valid but it’ll get easier. Hell, I was killed sixty odd years ago and I’m still pissed about it.” Rhonda states, pulling yet another lollipop from the pocket of her trousers.

“I’m not upset anymore.” I push back with a subtle roll of my eyes. “And I’m not angry. I’m fucking enraged. Three weeks and not a single arrest, how hard is it to obtain a shred of evidence and send the monsters that did this to me to jail?”

“So there were multiple perpetrators?” Mr Martin questions.

“I see what you’re doing but I’ve already told you that I’m not ready to tell the story yet.”

“It was worth a shot.” Mr Martin smiles, turning his attention to the rest of the group. “Does anybody have any supportive words for Y/N? Any advice they wanna give?”

“I know it’s probably not what you wanna hear right now but it’s nice to have another murder victim around. You get it.” Rhonda shares, a comforting gleam in her eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry for the way I treated you before cherry pop. It wasn’t cool of me.”

I can’t help but smile at her words. “Thanks Rhonda, I’m sorry for yelling at you, I’ve realized I need to learn how to control my emotions better.”

“Aww, are you two about to become best friends?” Charlie teases, a cheesy grin plastered across his face.

“Shut up Charlie.”

“Shut up Charlie.”

Rhonda and I both state at the same time, we share a knowing look, both attempting to suppress our smiles at the humor of the situation.

“You know we’re all here for you, take as much time as you need.” Wally finally speaks, catching my eye as the words slip out of his mouth. “And I’m sorry that happened to you.”

As Mr Martin wraps up  the session, I find my eyes continuously wandering over to Wally. Who coincidentally happens to always be looking in my direction. The butterflies returning to my stomach once again which nowadays seems to be a regular occurrence, no matter how hard I try to quash it.

As everybody begins to filter out of the gym, Charlie and I find ourselves being the last to leave. Which results in us having to stack the chairs and put them away.

“So, how are things?” Charlie asks, an eager tone to his voice which suggests to me that he is looking for a specific answer to the question. Though I’m not entirely sure what that answer is.

“Other than the obvious troubles that I have weighing on my mind, things have been pretty good recently.” I tell the boy, smiling as I think back on all the time that Wally and I have spent together.

“Oh come on Y/N. I know something is going on between you and that loveable jock of ours, so spill.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I spit out quickly, turning my back to Charlie as I add another chair to the stack in front of me, hoping he doesn’t see the blush rising on my cheeks.

“I’m not stupid, I see the way you two look at each other.” Charlie tells me, leaning himself against my stack of chairs so I have no option but to face him. “That boy is like a lovestruck little puppy every time you’re around, it’s adorable if not mildly sickening.”

“I-”

“All I’m saying is, coming from someone who lost their chance of love, don’t miss out because of whatever’s holding you back. Most of us don’t get a second chance like this.”

His words strike me right in the chest, realizing that he could in fact be right. “Wow Charlie, that’s actually incredibly wise.” 

“Well I’m not just a pretty face.” He jokes to which I slap him lightly on the arm despite laughing along with him.

Charlie’s words stick with me for the rest of the day, jumping about in my mind with no indication of leaving anytime soon. Even as I hang out with Wally in one of the empty dance studios, I find myself distracted by the thoughts racing around my head.

“Are you sure you’re okay, you seem like something’s bothering you.” Wally shouts through to me, as I rummage around the locker room.

“Yeah, fine. Never been better, I just can’t seem to find-” My words trail off as I find exactly what I was looking for. 

Pulling the black sports bag from the bottom of the pile, I smile triumphantly, tugging open the zipper to find all my dance clothes. It’s not exactly my dream to be wearing workout clothes for all of eternity but I’d rather that than the tiny cheerleader uniform that I have been stuck in up until now.

“You okay in there?”

I remain silent as I tug off my Split River uniform, pulling on a black sports playsuit with a little white cardigan and calf length white socks. 

“Y/N, you okay?” Wally asks again as I tug my sneakers back on to my feet.

After quickly checking myself over in the mirror to double check that I look somewhat presentable, I dramatically pull open the curtain, posing in front of it as I show Wally my change of clothes. Doing my best to put on a mini fashion show despite the outfit not exactly being the most fashionable.

As I walk towards the dark haired boy, I notice the way he sits up straight as I get closer to him, no longer slumped against the wall. The corners of his mouth are tugged upwards as I jokingly strut towards him, to which he claps enthusiastically.

“God, I feel ten times better now that I’m out of that stupid cheer uniform.” I admit, dropping myself down in front of Wally, crossing my legs beneath me.

“You liked cheerleading though, didn't you?”

“Yeah of course, doesn’t mean I had to like the uniforms though.” I confess with a shrug. “Besides, I felt kind of icky wearing the clothes I died in.”

“Well, at least now you’re dressed for an impromptu workout at any time.” Wally chuckles.

Although I smile along with him, I still can’t help thinking about what Charlie said to me. Gazing at him now, I’ve never felt more sure that I liked the footballer sat across from me, and yet I still can’t find the bravery within me to make a move. Not daring to cross a line nor wanting to ruin the budding friendship that we have managed to cultivate.

“Hey, how do you express your emotions?” I ask, desperately wanting to distract myself from overthinking my feelings towards the jock.

“What do you mean?” Wally asks curiously, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to understand the question.

“Like, when you’re so pent up with emotions, whether it’s anger or sadness or grief, how do you release that?” 

“I used to play football when I was alive, it was the only thing I really knew how to do, or that I was good at. It gets a lot of rage out though. We have field day now, it’s where we just smash and break stuff on the field but that’s a rare occurrence to be honest. When Mr Martin thinks we deserve it.” Wally explains, though when he notices the slight confusion on my face he continues. “I’d imagine those don’t really help you though right? Got a lot of feelings you wanna let out?”

“Whenever I felt too much before, I’d dance, it let me blow off some steam and tired me out enough to not feel as overwhelmed.” I tell him, reminiscing on my previous life. “I don’t know if that would help me now though, plus I always liked to have a partner or at least someone to join me so I wasn’t so alone.”

We remain in silence for a few moments, the two of us contemplating ways to allow me to blow off all the rage that I have residing within me. I place my head in my palm as I struggle to come to a satisfactory option.

“Rhonda swears by sex.” Wally blurts out, my head snapping up at his words and his expression swiftly changes to one of embarrassment as he realizes what he just said. “Not that I’m suggesting we have sex. I mean I wouldn’t be opposed to it but I’m sure that’s not the only option. I just thought, well if Rhonda swears by it then it must be a good option right but I don’t know, it was a stupid suggestion, I-”

“Wally, have you and Rhonda?” I daren’t bring myself to finish the question, partially because I’m afraid of the answer but partially because I don’t trust myself to not confess my feelings for him, especially after learning he wouldn’t be opposed to having sex with me. I mean sure, I know he was rambling and it wasn’t exactly an admission of his feelings towards me however it does have my insides feeling all gooey.

“No! No, god, no.” He exclaims, putting emphasis on the words to ensure that I’m understanding correctly. “I love her, don’t get me wrong but she’s like a sister to me. I’m maybe ninety percent sure that she sleeps with one of the goth kids that died in the 90s when there was that gas leak in the science lab.”

I nod my head slowly, unsure of how to carry on the conversation from here as it has taken a somewhat awkward turn. Avoiding eye contact with Wally, I focus instead on picking the skin around my fingernails, nervously biting the inside of my cheek at the same time.

“What if I danced with you?” Wally suggests, causing me to look at him with raised brows, surprised that he would offer. “I suppose it’d be more like you teaching me, but I promise to try my best.”

“Really?” 

“Sure, how hard can it be?”

With a beaming smile on my face, I instantly jump to my feet, running over to the stereo to press play. Wally follows me to the center of the room, watching as I wildly jump around to the sound of the Now That’s What I Call Music cd. He lets out a boyish laugh at my antics and I begin to feel the stress falling off my shoulders almost immediately.

“So what do you wanna start with?” I ask, taking in his hands in mine and forcing him to twist his body side to side, which he does so awkwardly.

“I don’t know. You’re supposed to be the teacher.” Wally replies sarcastically, causing me to drop his hands in feigned annoyance.

“You know what, just for that little comment, we’ll start with a classic pirouette.”

Before Wally even has time to argue, I elegantly twist, spinning delicately in a string of turns, to the jock’s surprise. Coming to a stop, I can’t hide the grin on my face at the fact his jaw is practically on the floor.

“There’s no way I can do that.” He argues, attempting to worm his way out of the task.

“You’ll never know until you try.” I tease, watching as he rolls his eyes before offering me a very obviously fake smile.

I’m unable to contain my laughter as I watch his very pathetic attempt, to which he simply spins in a very ungraceful circle before stumbling awkwardly. Managing to catch himself before hitting the floor, much to my amusement.

“I’m too awkward for this. Football is more my thing.” Wally complains, unimpressed by the hilarity I find at him failing.

“You know, nowadays a lot of footballers actually take ballet to improve their game.” I tell him, though I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “Okay, I’ll go easy on you now.”

Despite being no good at dancing whatsoever, Wally tries his very best with every move. Stumbling around the room like a newborn deer, following along with every instruction I give and imitating every different move I show him.

I must admit, it is incredibly cute that he is doing this for me. Wally has zero skills needed to be a dancer. Ungraceful, heavy footed, awkward. Yet he keeps going in order to allow me to blow off the steam that I need to and I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to him.

“Okay, there is one thing I want to try before we finish.” The footballer admits, a cheeky smile settled upon his face. “We have to do the Dirty Dancing move.”

“Oh do we now?” I laugh, finding it highly entertaining that he wants to try a move from a cringey 80s film.

“What? Dirty Dancing is a classic, we watch it pretty much every film night and everybody that has seen that movie wants to try that move at least once.” He confesses, trying to explain his reasoning as a way to avoid any embarrassment.

“Sure okay, just promise not to drop me.”

“I’d be a fool to drop you.”

I shake my head at his words as I walk a short distance away from him. Nerves bubble in my stomach, fearing that this could be an epic disaster and I could go tumbling across the floor. Yet as I run and jump into his arms, I’ve never felt safer than when he holds me tightly above his head. Strong hands gripping my waist hard, ensuring that he won’t let me fall. 

I giggle excitedly when he begins to lower me, holding me close to his body so that I am face to face with him though not quite placing me on the ground. The intensity of his stare makes me feel in a way that I’ve never felt with anyone else before and for the first time since death, I feel safe. I feel comfortable. I feel brave.

Once again, Charlie’s words ring through my head and before I can stop myself my hands are holding his cheeks softly. With every ounce of bravery within me and despite some part deep inside of me screaming no, fearing a repeat of previous situations, I hesitantly brush my lips over his. He’s so gentle, allowing me to lead so as to not push me too far.

Wally’s lips are soft against mine, interlocking slowly and delicately. My stomach feels crazy, the butterflies feel as though they’re trying to escape and I push myself further into the kiss. Allowing passion to take over and quashing the fear as much as physically possible. My arms slide from Wally’s cheeks to his hair, raking my fingers through the dark locks as my legs wrap around his torso in order to provide more stability.

I find myself desperately yearning for more, kissing the footballer with such intensity and heat, I didn’t know I was physically capable of. However, as his hands slowly move from holding my waist to situating themselves just beneath my ass, I struggle to fight the fear and worry residing within me.

As much as I don’t want to, I slowly pull myself away from the dark haired boy. Unwrapping my legs from him, signaling to be placed on the ground, which Wally does so gently. Even as I step away from him, he’s gazing at me with such awe that I feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.

“As amazing as that was, I think that’s as far as I want to go for now.” I admit, shame coursing through my veins making me unable to look at Wally afraid that he will judge me, or even worse, become angry. “Is that okay?”

My voice is meek and quiet, terrified of the response I am about to receive. Yet, when Wally’s hand ever so softly touches my chin, raising it to look at him, he has quite possibly the sweetest look on his face. Offering me a warm smile. 

“Of course, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

Heart racing, a sense of accomplishment washes over me. I’m one step closer to processing and I feel a renewed hope that perhaps I can have a normal afterlife. Or at the very least attempt to live peacefully in this eternity without suffering for the rest of time.

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