#i still need to MESSAGE this GUY to get TATTOOED

[bibleofficial]

literally got off the train bought a beer & started chugging it as soon as i was out of the store

[starryeyedjanai]

Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.

The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.

He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.

He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.

He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.

Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.

The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.

He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.

When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).

Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.

Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.

He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.

“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”

Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”

His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.

In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.

“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”

“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.

When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”

Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”

“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”

“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.

There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.

Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”

Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.

“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.

[metranart]

hi! it’s me

i wanted to ask you how would the jjk guys react to you getting their lips tatted on you..?(specifically gojo)

like you got them with lipstick and they kiss a paper then the tattoo artist makes it a stencil in red and you put it right under your boob..?

(don’t do this if your uncomfy with it! also take your time your probably busy)

xoxo,em! take care

Hi sweets, sorry for the long wait, I've been awfully busy but here it is, I made it specially smutty to compensate lol hope you like it :) btw... I love your requests ;)

How would the JJK guys react to you getting their lips tattooed on you 💋

Ft. Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Choso, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna.

SATORU GOJO

Five missed calls and four unseen texts. Gojo sighs, scratching the back of his neck, he hated it when you left him on read. What could you be doing that was so damn important to ignore him.

The sound he had been waiting for since the day started makes his ears ring with excitement and without wasting a second, he opens the text message with your name on it.

Gojo Satoru's eyes widen, and his black glasses slide down the bridge of his nose almost comically thanks to his jaw dropping a little, all at the sight of the picture attached to a cute and adorable message that says:

"Do you like it?"

Gojo growls under his breath, subtly pulling with a shaky finger at the collar of his shirt, suddenly it's too hot there, his cheeks turn an accusatory red and his breathing has grown labored. Even his palms are sweating, for fuck's sake! What's wrong with him?! It's just the shape of his lips on the delicious curve of your under-boob. Shit! He's about to bust a cap inside his pants.

"Satoru-" Nanami's stoic voice breaks his trance and looking around almost as if had forgotten he was in the middle of a briefing, gets up and without any further explanation than: "Emergency!" Leaves the school, leaving behind and unattended, all his duties and mental sanity.

"Did you see the message on his phone, Geto?" a puff of smoke lazily comes out of Shoko’s curious mouth and Geto shrugs. "I saw that it was from (Y/N)." The black-haired snickers and everyone let out a unison, heavy sigh.

Gojo arrives in less time than is humanly possible at your apartment and without warning, not even a ‘hey, babe’, or a: ‘I just teleported myself into your room, hope you don’t mind’. You are dragged by your tall and strong boyfriend, special grade sorcerer and stripped of your top.

"S-Satoru, baby?"

You try to figure out what has him so bristled and with the delicacy of a saint but the curiosity of a child, he yanks your bra up, your delicious breast spills from underneath and his tattooed lips greet him.

"Shit!" is the first word you hear him say and it's almost a painful pant. "Those are my lips, aren't they? This is why you asked me to kiss that paper using the lipstick-...." he sounds accusatory but also incredibly excited.

You nod and let out a sigh that you didn't know were holding. "Phew! When you didn’t answer my text, I thought you didn't like it-"

"Not like it..." he sounds almost offended, and your bra is discarded when he pushes you on your back in the bed. "Not like it?! I love it! I want to eat you whole, (Y/N), I'm only holding back because I need to ask something first."

Being pinned down by his weight and his gentle hands on either side of your jaw, Gojo steals the little space and whispers his question against your ear. "Are you still sensitive from the tattoo, or can I give you a new one with the original source?" 

He kisses your earlobe playfully, and you can’t help but giggle dumbly, as you can't help your voice from shaking with excitement. "I’m not made of sugar-"

You can't even finish the sentence when his lips begin the endless and shameless work of awakening every nerve ending in your skin, the desperation palpable in the white-haired sorcerer as every piece of clothing is torn from your body and his and discarded on the floor as impure.

Purple mockeries of your tattoo in the form of hickeys adorn every patch of your sensitive neck like a new necklace, small bites from the small curve of your shoulder to the sinful curve of your waist, nipples swollen and perked from the greedy skating of his tongue on them. Gojo is not being rough, but he is not being gentle either, he is brutal in his advance but methodical and careful that your moans do not change tone.

"I'm going to tattoo myself on you from the inside out," his warn is muffled against your breast as his mouth devours the plump peak of flesh. Paying special attention to pressing his lips against your tattoo over and over and over again, as if certifying its authenticity and quality. The silhouette was exact, the perfect shape of his greedy lips. It was an almost erotic sight for him.

"Huh?"

"Sure,” he chuckled low before keep going, “white ink specially made for you. You'll see, I’m an awesome artist," having you panting, sweating and squirming isn’t enough for him. Oh no! he needs more, Satoru Gojo claims for something more permanent than a mere tattoo. "...My tattoos last nine months inside, and eighteen years outside, they talk and call you mommy, I’m that talented, sweets" tangled between his muscular limbs, your new resting place, he does whatever the fuck he wants with you. 

You feel the massive shape of his warm cock against your thigh, he’s been pumping himself no end, not letting you touch him not letting you aid him for fear of wasting his first load, that tasty, thick load he's been preparing especially for you. The mere graze of your fingers on him will be his end, he knows it, so he won’t ask nor accept your help, even when he longs to wrap your fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut. Or better yet, wrap your perfect mouth around his cock and suck him off– NO! he now’s not the time for him to be negligent. 

Once loaded, abandons his quest for relief and rests his warm palm on your belly massaging it as if molding it to fit something of his, while the other keeps playing with your cunt, enjoying the way you suck his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. 

“I never thought someone would be able to awaken my paternal instinct-... did my clan hire you, sweets?” he scoffed, playfully. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy moans and whimpers but the way your muscles are tensing and spasming around his digits. The desperate rocking of your hips against his palm, as a firm beg for relief.

“It's just a tattoo....”

“Na ah!” His hand continues playing with your tummy, your navel, the curve of your waist almost obsessively while his tongue makes out with the curve of your neck. “This was your way of telling me that you want me forever..." long finger prod at your gummy walls, searching for that hidden blessed spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

"Let me show you how gifted I am, my sweet girl..." 

He finds it in matter of seconds, and you lose all kind of restriction and complaint and Gojo can’t help but smirk against your neck as you tighten and quiver around his digits. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his thumb pressed over your clit, flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles a deep purple hickey on the skin. Long, thick fingers guiding you through madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, oversensitive body to handle.

"Y-Yes, Satoru, shown me, fill me, mark me-… do whatever the fuck you want-"

You convulse in the spare seconds of glorious pleasure before cumming with a strangled shriek, and Gojo’s groan muffles against your skin when can finally sink in one roll of his hips, feeding you that fat cock he’s been pumping to the edge just for this exact moment, buries deep inside you, kissing your cervix in that one thrust of raw meat. With an animalistic grunt, spills his soul inside your womb, pouring every last drop of cum he's been cooking in those heavy balls until he empties himself, flooding your inside with his gifted seed. A rush of juices gushes from your trembling cunt onto your connected lower halves, and you feel and hear him pant like a dog next to your ear, as both come down from the high. 

"Am I your favorite tattoo artist or what?"

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NANAMI KENTO

He's stoic and serious, almost unmoving in his unflappable staring as you lift your shirt so he can see your new tattoo. His silent disposition is starting to make you more than a little nervous, since you know that Nanami Kento isn't exactly a crazy animal, but rather, a calm and quiet being who hides a wild side that he only shares with those closest to him. Making you wonder if you fall into that category or not, as his silence as he inspects the tattoo of his lips under your boob is virtually killing you with anxiety.

"Those are your lips, my love." You explain again, even though you've already done it three times, and you receive the same ‘mphm’ sound he made the first three times. 

"Remember? -… remember when I ask you to kiss a paper?"

"I do."

"Well, I gave that to the tattoo artist, and he made it a stencil in red and then I ask him to put it right under my boob...?"

"I see."

Those calm eyes, analyze from every possible angle the tattoo of his lips on your skin, it had never been so difficult for you to read your boyfriend. "Do you like it, do you hate it? Tell me anything, Kento."

Silence and more close observation.

You close your eyes, squeezing your eyelids shut as you take that deep breath of air, you need so much, and you are about to demand an answer when you feel it...

Your eyelids suddenly open looking down and there you find him: Your stoic, boyfriend, the sensible and calm man who is always in control, kneeling in front of you while pressing his lips against your tattoo, the round softness of your boob loses its shape momentarily as the blond pushes his face more firmly against the plump skin. The most unexpected kiss that you have ever shared and for some reason, the most erotic, too.

"K-Ken?"

"Did it hurt?" he asks suddenly from his kneeling position and the threat of you stuttering makes you just shake your head. Nanami steals another kiss against the softness of your breast like he can’t have enough of the sensation. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

You nod, mesmerized by the sudden attention this blond showers you with, his hands caressing your bare back from top to bottom, slow and gentle with the tips of his fingers, it's delicious and it melts away the anxiety you may have been feeling, now, malleable in his hands. You let his face sink further into the curve of the tattoo of his lips and you moan his name as if you want to taste it rolling down your tongue.

"Nanami."

"... Do you still have the lipstick?"

"Huh?" That request brings you out of your reverie a little, and you look at him with some confusion, to which he smiles, that smile that makes you weak in the knees. "Y-Yes, it's in my purse."

"Lend it to me, darling."

With his palm splayed wide open he waits for you to hand over the lipstick. Digging for the cosmetic, he waits patiently until it's resting in his open hand and before you can air your doubts, he stands up, lifting you into his arms to take you with him, those muscular limbs feel like the safest place in the world and you nuzzle your nose into his neck to breathe in his scent combined with his cologne, and it’s intoxicating, so much so that you almost miss his next question.

“I’d like to suggest a few other places where my lips would look just as amazing on your body.”

“Kento!” you startle, it’s adorable to him and closing the distance, he presses his lips to yours, tasting, nibbing and licking as he carries you to his room. “You take suggestions don’t you, sweetie?” 

He chuckles at the flush growing wild on your cheeks, and you feel the softness of the mattress on your back as he sets you down with the care of a saint, before beginning to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. Your body shivers in anticipation and his lips curve up into the cheekiest grin you’ve ever seen him make, his large hand reaching out one elegant finger towards you and beckoning you with it. 

You’re on your knees in front of him in seconds, his knuckles running down the length of your jaw in a silky caress that has you purring like a kitten, leaning into his touch. That smile only stretches further, as your eyes flutter shut and you feel the greedy grip on his lips, hunting for another kiss. 

Unfortunately, it ends too soon, and your mouth holds that pouty shape that demands another sweet kiss, but instead of his fleshy lips, you feel the creamy slick of lipstick painting your lips.

“Tell me, (Y/N),” Nanami is delighted with how docile you are to him as he finishes painting your lips red, and it’s the sound of his pants zipper coming down that catapults your eyes open, “what would you think of me tattooing your lips right here?”

His finger points along his defined obliques and your mouth waters, this man was sincerely praised by the gods themselves, every muscle in his abdomen defined, those deep lines going down to his crotch giving that ‘v’ shape to his torso, that sinful path of golden hair that disappears under his trousers. It's too much for you.

"I think I need to see what it looks like first and then I can give you an informed answer, Kento."

His broad chest rises and falls violently, sweat runs down his forehead and his cheeks are an explosion of color. This is your masterpiece. Nanami Kento’s fat cock fits with effort in your mouth, but you certainly do your best to get it to touch the back of your throat with every thrust, you can feel him getting close, his thighs tremble under your hands, his forearm covers his eyes, his cheeks are about to explode… he’s too close, and your tongue curling around the tip doesn’t help him resist, you suck him off for over ten minutes and you’re proud of that pleasurable ache in your jaw when he comes shamelessly hard at the back of your throat and your name rips through his esophagus as it echoes through the walls of his apartment. Eventually, his hand stops keeping your head pressed against his pelvis, and with a wet pop, his still semi-erect cock hangs in front of your face, lubed in your saliva.

“You’re right, I think it would look nice.”

You tell him, admiring the lipstick residue that adorns the shape of his cock and balls, a crimson kiss near the base, another at the shiny, cum-dripping tip, another resting on the roundness of his coarse balls, and you love the whole image. You want a fucking mural in your living room with this image.

“Hell no,” the blonde says breathlessly, barely trying to recover from your masterful blowjob, “…no needle is going to touch me down there,” he threatens playfully but serious enough, “if you like the way it looks, you’re going to have to paint it yourself every time.”

A giggle escapes your mouth, red lipstick smeared on your lips as you grin evilly at him. 

“You have yourself a deal, baby."

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CHOSO KAMO

Choso can't control where the blood goes since, he met you, his cursed technique is out of control. That damn tattoo of his lips on the curve of your under-boob is driving him crazy, he thinks of it and the blood goes down to his crotch. He thinks of you and the blood makes a tent in his pants.

It's a mess that he's had to control with shameful continuous masturbation sessions. Jerking himself off, over and over, with your name as a mantra and the image of his lips tattooed on your breast as his banner.

"Shit, just go away." 

He murmurs with a tight voice, while his fist milks his fat cock in fast and violent motions, his flesh swollen painfully for more than an hour, he doesn't want you to come home from work and find him touching himself, he doesn't want you to find out that he lost control of his cursed technique. He had to lower himself to watching porn, something he had never done before, but it was of no use. So, he put on cream and although it had relieved him on other occasions, this time wasn't working its charm. Fuck! Pleaaaase-... maybe he needs more cream to slide better? No, no matter how much cream he spreads on it never compares even a little to your tight, little pussy. 

And it is the desperation, that he is running out of time that drives him to this miserable act. He takes, that one photo he treasures so much, out of the frame and places it between his fingers, his excitement growing as he looks at it, it is working. He beats his piece of swollen flesh more eagerly, grunting and growling like a dying animal, Fuck! he's close...his eyes close in concentration and his hand increases speed and pressure as his mouth hangs open… almost there, he can feel his balls tensing and tightening, so close, just a few more pumps, a couple more strokes, a little more pressure, almost there… his guts tighten and his brain enraptures in the moment forgetting to mind his surroundings, to enjoy the divine sensation that grows and grows and grows and FUCK!-

Choso Kamo cums, hard and heavy, rope after rope of creamy cum shoots out of the head of his cock like a mockery of how blood usually does when he uses his cursed technique, the pressurized jet of creamy juice spills out and doesn't finish pouring for about a minute straight. Once his balls are an empty, trembling sack, Choso can breathe again, his sweaty and naked torso rises and falls with violence that calms down the more air he sucks, the sweat begins to dry on his skin and his cheeks feel less hot. This was what he needed, the photo helped him a lot, although he can feel how he bathed it in cum, he can fix it quickly, clean every single trail of his sin before you get home-

"C-Choso?"

His hand, which was riding out the last few strokes of pleasure on his ultra-sensitive cock freezes and his eyes snap open to find you staring at the mess he is, just what he wanted to avoid, damn it! -

"B-Baby, I-" he starts to stutter and stops abruptly when his eyes register what he did.

Your cheeks are painted a deep red but that's to be expected, what's not to be expected are the cum globes that slide down your pretty face, down your cheeks, varnishing your eyelashes and part of your eye, messing up your perfect hairdo, staining your work uniform. Choso enraptured himself so much in his own fantasy that he didn't notice when you walked through the door, or when you approached him.

Now, he has no idea how to begin to apologize, the words are stuck in his dry throat. Are you angry? Are you furious with him? Your beautiful eyes only watch him, better said, ogle him: pants pooling at his ankles, shirt bunched up to his neck, his cock limp but slowly filling with blood again between his trembling fingers, the cockhead shiny and pink and still, spewing cum to further mortify him. 

Choso is paralyzed, unable to move and his mouth barely managing to open to spit out any explanation, snaps shut again from the shame that crushes him.

But that shame turns to bewilderment when his eyes catch the subtle movement of your hand gathering a glob of his cum that slides down your cheek, with all the delicacy and grace that define you, and you play with it for a second between your fingers before opening your mouth and dipping the digits between your tongue. Choso's jaw drops to the floor and his breathing hastens again, his cursed technique going out of control once more, summoning blood to that still throbbing and extra-sensitive part.

Your pretty lips curve into a feline grin that makes him feel like your prey, and he swallows hard, clenching his fists to keep his body from shaking, when his eyes meet yours.

“Is this what you do when I go to work, sweetheart?” you ask, licking your lips to collect the cum resting there, “you jerk off while looking at my graduation picture?” a flirtatious giggle escapes you when you specify, “...same picture where your little brother is, too, how dirty.”

Choso is a bundle of nerves, blood just keeps pooling where it shouldn’t, he’s so hard and swollen that your eyes drop there almost automatically.

“I’ll take care of cleaning everything-” 

You interrupt his apology, raising a finger to get his attention so he can see you, as you lift your pencil skirt up to your thighs and slowly settle yourself comfortably on top of his lap, nestling his cock between your warm stockinged thighs. Choso shivers and carefully as if asking for permission, let his large hands slide down those wide, inviting thighs. 

“…How about you start by cleaning me up first?” Your warm hand tangles around his firm erection and he growls low, “Then you get me dirty again,” you slide those fingers up and down on his stiffness in shameless incitement and smile when notice his eyes roll back his skull, “and we repeat it all until dawn.”

“Yesyesyesyesyes, whatever my girl wants-…” the words rush from his mouth, “…just one request,” an eyebrow rises on your face, and he grins, warm and almost, shyly. “May I see the tattoo of my lips again?”

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SUGURU GETO

“Do you… Do you really like it, Suguru?” You ask, lolling your head forward and humming when his fingers slowly travel up and unclasp your bra, the last barrier you have left to cover yourself.  Every little breathy sound you make comes ragged and soiled with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.

“Way too much, baby,” his low voice carefully admits from above you.  “I don’t know why you hid it from me in the first place. Don’t—don’t do that. You don’t have to. EVER.”

Your breathing keeps picking up when he keeps trailing his hands around either side of your now naked torso, running the tips of his fingers down your ribs and slowly tracing the curve of your breast, letting the pads of his fingers memorize the shape of his tattooed lips on your skin.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” Suguru whisper, quite suddenly emboldened by his growing need. The gentle caresses pause at the very top of perked nipple, holding there for a second while he seems to think about it. “Please, don’t make me repeat myself.”

Soon his touch lifts away and he appreciates the sound your hands make, as those little limbs make haste in follow his request, the muffled shuffling of fabric being stripped of your skin somewhere close by and the soft noise it makes dropping to the floor, close to erotic to the first-grade sorcerer. And then suddenly—

“Oh, God—” you breathe, nearly melting into the seat of his school office when large, warm palms meet your skin and slowly start to ride the curve of your neck and collarbone downwards. Dammit, why does it feel so good?  Suguru Geto smirks, like the knowing devil that he is. “Do my hands feel amazing, baby? It’s just two palms, ten fingers-”

 “…. But they’re so strong and raspy and big….” Your mouth babbles unrestrainedly, “touch me more, Geto….”

One palm butterfly out across your breast and you moan, lewdly loud. “If Director Yaga hears, I’m going to be so fired, pretty.”

“S-Sorry…” 

Dipping and squeezing the soft, pillowy flesh of your boobs, Suguru Geto stares down at you, drinking every emotion and expression he can rip out of you. “Ho—fuck, like that.” Your approval is everything to him.

“I know,” Suguru murmurs, his voice ocean-deep and scraping across the shell of your eager ear when he leans closer from his privileged height to press one bended knee to the chair, right in between your thighs. He lets one hand drift down into the space he created and rub circles on the moist mound of flesh there, as his other hand comes up to cradle your chin, urging you to stretch your neck up and long for him. “You look so pretty like this— all naked and horny for me.”

“Someone might come in, lock the door…” you breathe in protest, remembering your shy nature, and he ignores you, slowly dragging his palm down your trembling slit.

“You don't get a tattoo as sensual as that, if you don't want everyone to drool after you,” he says, and you’re helpless to stop the embarrassing way your knees suddenly jerk farther apart when his hand moves to press a fat finger on your clit. “… Showing all the monkeys how sexy you are, and then showing them that you belong ONLY to me.”  

And then he squeeeezes your bundle of nerves, and your hips nearly come off the seat with it.

Nothing else exists besides your boyfriend’s pair of hands now gripping the bottom of the chair, to position your body closer to him. You hear yourself take exactly one shaky breath before his arms suddenly slithered under your knees, hauling you forward. Your lower back dips in at the angle, your pelvis now jutted out and propped up by the edge of the seat.  

Suguru Geto licks his lips as if he as if a banquet were being presented to him and the following is him lowering himself to the floor in front of you, running those deliciously strong palms up the length of your thighs. Your new position encourages you to spread your legs wider for him.

“I think my lips, tattooed here,” his long, cascading loose hair caresses the inner skin of your thighs as he leans down to the lower curve of your tummy and places a soft, warm kiss, “would look great, as well.”

“Y-You think?” 

Your quivering lips exhale at the feeling of his hot, plump lips meeting your feverish skin, and hearing the sound of his breath hitch at the visual you give him, goosebumps spread all you’re your body.  

“I know it,” He promises, opening you up wider, subtly moving himself closer into the gap and letting you cradle his torso with your knees.

“Mine to feast on, mine to pamper,” the special grade sorcerer rumbles quietly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he licks his lips, hungrier. “So, mine to… own.”

“….-Own?”

And then you’re abruptly cut off by your own gasp when a soft, dexterous tongue slowly envelopes your clit. His lips slick between your folds as his rogue tongue flicks out like hot velvet to flutter greedily over your clit, humming low in his throat as he eats you with unreserved gluttony.

“Fuck, this is heaven. This is fucking heaven,” he rumbles against your sloppy pussy, “my sweet girl laying with her legs open and letting me eat her after I’m done giving classes—….”  

“Su-Sugu… oh, fuck—” Your words are barely discernible through the pleasure, deformed by the sound of your breaths and gasps. “Do—Do you think someone can h-hear us?”

Suguru smirk is swallow by your folds and his snicker muffled by his need to keep eating you to even let you know that a six eyes user had been spying from the other side of the door since you started. 

“Noones at the school at these hours but us teachers, baby. Don’t worry your pretty head.” 

His fingers curl against your thighs, his tongue swirling gentle circles around your swollen clit as he sinks two of his thick fingers deep inside your cunt. Both of your hands thrust out without thinking and snatch at his loose raven mane, fingers burying themselves into thick waves of hair. “Oh—f-fuck—”

He makes a rough little growl into your warmth every time you tug on his hair, and you tug every time, he pulls his fingers out and then pushes them back in again, until it becomes a vicious circle where both do that steadily, over and over until you’re sweating, hips arching up and doing everything you can to entice him to hurry the fuck up.

Suguru snickers again at your impatience, instead, he’s unbelievably slow, continuing to lick his hot tongue through your folds as his eager finger fuck you, so utterly patient and steadfast, learning the right notes to drive you crazy.

“You are close, aren’t you, dove?” he flicks that wicked tongue applying more pressure to your abused clit, “something’s beginning to burn in your core, I can see the cursed energy spreading threateningly along the muscles in your pelvis.” Suguru narrated what he felt with his own cursed energy, without a doubt the out-looker seeing the same as he was, just in HD. “It rises through your abdomen like unstoppable wave, seeps down into your knees and wraps around them. Your breathing is getting shallower, the base of your lungs suddenly feels too cramped by the oncoming explosion. I know, baby, just let it happen, don’t hold back. You can squirt on my face. I’m eager for you to baptize me on your fountain of love—”  

“Stop it, Suguru… I’m-I’m not…. I will not….” 

Your resistance is nothing but amusing to him, this is your nemesis. You hate how sensitive you are, how easy your boyfriends read you and undoes you with his mere tongue, you hate that squirting jet that makes your toes curl and your eyes blank, but once it’s over, makes you very aware of the mess you made.

Suguru finally speeds up, and that rock steady display of ferocity makes you want to cry.

“—I-I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, everything inside pulling up fierce and tight, your chest heaving and your grip in his hair turning to iron. “—Oh, fuck, I’m g-gonna cum—I-I—”

A quiet mhmmm sound rumbles low in gentle encouragement, and then he takes a second to softly suck on your clit to push you over the edge. His fingers curl, press up hard against something absolutely fucking devastating inside you, Suguru Geto knows you so well is almost unfair, and bite your lip is all you can do to stifle a sob when your body suddenly erupts in searing burning ecstasy.

Your back arches and you cum in his mouth, wailing his name while he groans raggedly and drags you through it. It’s hot and wet, in equal parts chaos and bliss. You’re still trying to calm your breathing when a gentle softness presses against your lips, mindful of rewarding you with as much love as he can profess in one single, chaste kiss. It’s over way too soon though, and by the time you open your eyes again, you blearily blink them at him. He’s already standing, impeccable and not one strand of raven hair out of place. A swift smirk curving his lips while his stare never strays from your destroyed persona, heaving and sweating and naked in a public place. Fuck! He adores you so much.

“Are you hungry?” He eventually asks looking straight ahead instead of you, the low frequency of his natural voice not masked anymore by his arousal.

You blink up at him twice, still slouched over the seat butt-naked, trying to figure out who is he talking to, all your clothes spread around his desk and the floor when you hear some familiar voice answer from the other side of the door.

“Starving.”

CLICK HERE TO READ ALL MY JJK SMUT FANFICTION COMMISSIONS

RYOMEN SUKUNA

The euphoric sway of his hips meeting yours should be an affront to the natural order, your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna, had been maintaining the same rhythm, precision and firmness in each thrust for more than forty minutes. 

You are cockdrunk, you don’t remember your own name, only his. Which comes out of your trembling lips in pieces or unfinished syllables. Your mind is a mess, a rabid mess of hormones and pleasure, but your insides are the most affected, making you endure mini-orgasm after mini-orgasm that shake your frame violently, leaving all your muscles exhausted and sweaty. Breathing ragged, face pressed against the sheets of his bed and your wrists swallowed by his large hands against the firm mattress, while he introduced you again and again to your new deity, his thick cock, which seemed just as hard and ready to continue making a mess of you. 

“…I’m sure you’ll think twice about pulling a stunt like that again now, won’t you, princess?”

Although his voice was breathless, it was still firm and solid, not like your pathetic moans.

“I…I thought you’d-…that you’d like it, Kuna-...” That sentence trailed from your half-open lips, between a sigh and a moan as he changed the angle to hit that spot of nerves inside you that made you see stars.

“I know you meant well but it was still unacceptable,” your boyfriend scolds you again, and a delicious shiver runs down your spine as his hands abandons your wrists in order to better hook on either side of your hip. The mere sensation of his thick fingers digging into your soft skin makes you cum again. "Fuck- you squeeze me so good, baby..." he praises, plunging his massive cock deeper into your quivering hole just to draw out more sensations, "-.... shit! If I cum again, are you going to keep it warm for me inside your tummy, princess?"

"Kuna, yes, always..." you moan into the sheets miserably, "don't stay mad at me, please, my love-"

"I loved the tattoo of my lips on your under-boob, don't doubt that" he affirms, firm thrusts clapping his midsection with yours, like giving his stamina a cheer. "But I HATED the fact that some guy had to do it. Don't you know any female tattoo artists, Isn't this the era of women's empowerment?"

You crawl forward and he catches you before you can shift positions. "Kuna, baby... let me ride you, so I can control the speed... I can't cum again-"

"I. Don't. care." He replies, skewering you again on his veiny, thick piece of meat that still feels like stone. "I'll put it in you as fast as I want and as long as I want until you learn your lesson-"

"Which is?"

"You, cocky little thing." He chuckles and emphasizes each word with a thrust. "Nobody. Touches. You. But. ME! Just ME."

“Mine.” Thrust, “Mine~” thrust, thrust, thrust, “MINE.” Thrustthrustthrustthrustthrustthrust—

Sukuna doesn´t hold himself back, even after he comes for the sixth time, he keeps going.

Slipping in and out of you, still rock hard, twisting you uncaringly in all kinds of positions and surfaces that his room provides, just fucking his cum inside you with every unpunished thrust.

You are tired, you are actually exhausted, you are emotional-... and you are drained.

“—I'm yours, just yours... hands off, w-world.... just y-yours~”

His hips stop, finally halting all movement when you give him what he's looking for, he just wants to hear that over and over again from your quivering lips and raspy throat, he just wants you to say it again. Maybe you should tattoo that as well.

Making you come one last glorious and almost painful time. Your naked body is left, used, sweaty and worn but warmly and safely wrapped in his arms. A huge smirk on his lips before he kisses your eyelids, so you open them again and once again you do.

"Now that we got that out of the way, let me see it again..." Sukuna asks, gently squeezing your tattooed boob inside his large palm, letting his eyes scan each patch of skin and how well he marked you with little hints of hickeys and teeth. "...I think we can play twister with every mark I left on your body," he snickers amused, "...but let's start with those lips on your breast."

“Jerk.”

He grins, satisfied. Hugging you harder to plaster your form closer to him, squeezing that sassy grin out of your pretty face.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

[ln444]

dating lando. . .

cw: mentions of sex, f!reader, fluff, slight smut.

notes: my first post 😭 i'm not very confident abt it but i hope you guys will like it! my requests are open so don't hesitate if you have any suggestions or just want to talk ! enjoy<3

___________________________________________

physical touch; i feel like lando would be incredibly touchy, even if it's just his hand on your thigh or sitting beside you with your shoulders touching. he simply needs to feel close to you every chance he gets. in public, he might dial back his affection slightly because he treasures those private moments, but that won't stop him from stealing sweet, discreet kisses when no one is watching or quietly holding your hand because he just can't keep his hands off you. in crowded places, he's the kind of person who instinctively puts his arm around your waist to ensure your safety. when it's just the two of you, lando can't help but be hands-on. he'll find any excuse to touch you, whether it's running his fingers through your hair or playing with your hands while you're chilling. he'll pull you closer every time you're beside him, or even have you on his lap while he's engrossed in some random pc game. kissing you is practically an obsession for him, and it's not limited to your lips. he adores exploring every inch of your skin, planting kisses on your neck, nose, cheeks, hands, and thighs. however, his absolute favorite place to kiss is still your lips. every kiss from lando feels as passionate and full of adoration as the first time, and he can never get enough of it.

quality time; he would definitely message you whenever he's available to spend time with you and invite you to hang out. he absolutely loves your company, even if it's just the two of you relaxing on the bed, watching entertaining videos and tiktoks, or having silly conversations. however, his favorite moments are when you embark on fun dates, like going to the arcade or go karting. his heart is full of joy from seeing you happy during these moments and he wants to tattoo every second of them into his memory. lando likes all types of dates because his primary desire is to share time with you. it might depend on his mood; sometimes he just wants to chill with you all day, staying in bed or playing games together. other times; he wants to venture out and go dance with you all night or go for a midnight swim. in the end, what really matters is that you are together.

words; in the early days of your relationship it was kinda hard for lando to express his feelings, he felt a bit uneasy because he was not used to vocalizing his feelings, he's more the type to keep everything for himself. but, with you, he learns surprisingly fast to talk about how he feels, both negative or positive emotions. you became his safe place. he would always praise you when he has the chance to even if it's for small random things, he would always remind you how much he's proud of you (and you do the same too ofc). even if this man loves teasing you, he also knows when to be serious and how to make you feel valued and loved. he uses a lot of nicknames like "angel", "love" or "sweetheart" because he knows how much you love them and how special it makes you feel. you were definitely the first one to say i love you, not that lando didn't want to say it but he was just too nervous to do it but since you did, he can't help but say it everyday.

sex; lando always makes sure you feel safe and comfortable when you're having sex. it doesn't mean that he doesn't like it rough tho, he absolutely loves having rough sex with you, even more when he's stressed or frustrated because of a race; hair pulling, spanking, face fucking, dirty talk... but always while making sure that you're okay. when it comes to vanilla sex, lando can become the softest man ever, he would whisper sweet things to you like; "that's my pretty girl", "i'm so lucky to have such a beautiful girl just for me", "you're doing so good angel", accompanied by gentle touches and kisses all over your body or when he's softly making love to you. his favorite thing is eating you out, he's literally obsessed with your pussy and will find any excuses to get a taste, even more when you ride his face while your eyes are locked with his.

[megistusdiary]

i have a vision i need you guys to see.

2000s!arle who's looking to get some sleeve fillers. her bandmate, tartaglia, recommends her to try this new shop. he told her the artist is "insanely talented," so she figures, why not?

(longer post/nsfw utc - tw smaller reader, transfem arle mentions)

when she walks in, she sees you sitting on the counter, legs swinging as you greet her.

"hey, welcome in. what can i help you with?" she watches you hop down off the counter, now having to look down at you given your shorter stature.

you don't look like you have many tattoos at all, funny enough. doesn't look like you really belong in a place like this, but she thinks you're a pretty cute counter-girl.

"i'm looking to get some sleeve fillers, sweetheart." she leans down over you, a hand on the wall by your head.

"go figure." you snort and she's a little taken aback.

"you're a little fiesty thing, huh?" she asks and you tilt your head. she cuts you off, waving her hand. "anyways, i'm thinking of adding onto my sleeve." she rolls up her shirt, flexing her bicep for you.

"do you have anything specific you want?"

"i have some ideas." she shrugs, leaning back to her full height with a smug little grin. "so, there an artist back there?" she gestures to the back of the shop.

"actually-"

once again, she cuts you off. "my friend said-" she takes her phone out, flipping the lid open and showing tartaglia's message with the artist's name on it. "she works here. you know her?"

you blink at the phone being shoved in your face, but you laugh anyway. "oh, really? you're looking for her?"

"yeah, what about it? is she shitty or something?" she doesn't seem to notice your half-annoyed eyeroll.

"nothing. i'll go set you up in the room." you tug her along, grabbing the consent forms and other things she'll need to fill out. "here, fill these out." you sit her in the chair, handing her the clipboard.

"aw, won't you stay with me? i get nervous when the ink comes out." she sends you an almost sleazy grin.

"oh, i'd love to, but i can't." you feign a pout. "gotta go get the artist." you grin and escape the room quickly, leaving her to her own devices.

she fills the papers out easily, having done so before many times.

she hears the door click, seeing a taller woman covered in tattoos walking in and setting up. she collects the paperwork from arlecchino, checking through it.

"cool, the artist will be in shortly."

arlecchino tilts her head. "it's not you?"

the woman arched an eyebrow, shrugging, closing the door again and leaving arlecchino in silence.

she looks around the room, hearing the door click open after a few minutes. "finally-" she turns around to see-

you?

she stiffens in the chair. "you're joking, right?" she asks with a laugh.

"what's the problem?" you scoff, sitting down on the chair next to the tattoo bed. "you don't trust me?"

"you don't have a speck of ink anywhere on you. how exactly am i supposed to trust you?"

"your friend seemed to think i was 'insanely talented,' right? do you trust him?" you counter and she bites the inside of her cheek.

she stays quiet while you set up, showing her some of your designs, which she picks from to fill in her sleeve.

she sits still the entire time, feeling your gloved hand on her skin. you look small next to her, cute, she thinks, and-

"stop staring at me." you cut her thoughts off without even looking away from her arm.

"can't help it, sweetheart." she quickly covers and you sigh. she grins mischievously up at you.

you set your gun down, grabbing her jaw and tugging her up to meet your gaze. "don't call me that. watch your mouth." you suddenly snap, your cute little aura gone, replaced by something darker.

it only makes her breath hitch, feeling your fingers on her jaw. "oh, little kitty has claws." she taunts and you scoff, leaning in.

your lips graze the shell of her ear and she shivers. "don't talk to me that way, or i swear, i'll have you on your fucking knees begging me for forgiveness." you mutter.

she isn't sure if it's a real threat, but the change in your tone is enough to have her nodding regardless. her mind is filled with thoughts of you, riding her, a hand on her throat as you control the pace.

you see her hardening beneath her jeans and you arch an eyebrow. "you're pretty pathetic for a flirt." you snap.

and she swears she could cum right then and there from just your gaze.

too bad you go right back to tattooing with everything re-sterilized.

damn.

[hysteria-things]

pls pls pls make something (preferably fluff) about matt/chris on stream and y/n wants attention

TEXTS AND TEMPTATIONS

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you never mind watching matt’s stream, but it tends to get boring. maybe sending a few texts can get his mind off the game a little?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, anxiety (kinda), playful banter

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 405

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hope you like it anon!! this was fun to write :)

this one’s short but sweet.

scrolling through instagram post after instagram post can get boring after a while.

matt’s streaming hogwarts legacy on twitch. you’ve been sitting next to him and interacting a few times if fans ask, but you’re never one to disrupt him. you’ll feel bad if you do.

this time is different.

you sigh, scanning his body as he’s playing. your eyes land on his phone that’s facing up next to his tattooed arm. you smirk, an idea coming to mind.

you open your messages to matt.

y/n💋

hey

he glances down when his phone lights up, but ignores it to focus more on the action in front of him.

y/n💋

we need to talk.

he looks at his phone again when the second message comes through, and this time he stops mid-boss fight and stares at it.

he looks up at you to see if there’s a reaction, but you’re still typing away on your phone.

a million different negative thoughts fly through matt’s brain, his eyebrows furrow with confusion as his hands start to sweat.

his eyes move from you and his phone over and over until the last message displays.

he drops the controller and reaches for his phone. he bites his nails as he scans over the text, forgetting about the stream for only a second.

he rolls his eyes and turns his chair to you. “are you kidding me?” he exclaims.

you start to laugh, feeling a little guilty about your game.

“that’s not funny.” he says seriously but smiles because he can never stay mad at you. “if you wanted my attention you could’ve asked me. i don’t care.”

you wind down as you get up and sit on his lap. your hands rest on his cheeks. “i’m sorry.” you apologize between giggles.

“i was going to start crying, you know that? i was about to cry in front of thousands of people.”

“i’m sorry,” you repeat with a pout this time, kissing him on the cheek.

you face his monitor with twitch pulled up, seeing the chat going crazy with confusion and questions.

“nothing’s wrong guys, i promise. y/n’s just being a brat.” your boyfriend explains, holding you tighter in his arms as if you’re going to leave.

you start a fit of laughter once again when you read the message that’s still on full display. poor matt almost had a heart attack because of you.

y/n💋

you’re so handsome :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[soamericn]

𝜗𝜚 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ truth, dare, spin bottles you know how to ball, i know aristotle. ‘

𝜗𝜚… previous chapter - next chapter

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!verstappen!y/n x lando norris ) y/n is the younger sister of world champion max verstappen and an author known for her young adult romance novels despite never being in a relationship herself. lando norris is a formula one driver and is secretly an old friend and a fan of her books since 2020.

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , brooke flecca

𝜗𝜚… triggers , none I don't think

𝜗𝜚… authors note , OKAY OKAY SO EXPLANATION AND APOLOGY TIME. it has been SO long since chapter 2 and im so sorry school got so much and I couldn't do it but im back and its summer and expect chapters and new fics more regularly!!!

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist

𝜗𝜚 ˖ ࣪₊˚ post austrian grand prix interview - lando norris

𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted

liked by charlottessine, alexalbon, laurenasherauthor and 987,764 others

yourusername miami next!! p1 lando 🤨

view comments

user54 y/n supporting lando instead of her actual brother well never not be funny 😭🙏

user32 she’s one of us 🙌

maxverstappen but guess who’s still winning

bsfusername ugh marry me 😫

yourusername i thought we already were??

mclaren bestseller AND our lucky charm what else can she do?

yourusername I cry over taylor swift occasionally 😁

user87 how you have never had a boyfriend is the biggest mystery of the world 🤯

user23 NO ACTUALLY SHES GLOWING

landonorris my cheerleader 🫶

yourusername i thought you were mine? 🤭

maxverstappen you guys make me SICK

redbull and you’ll be in our garage in miami right..? RIGHT?!

𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ text messages with lando 🫶

the tv projected the track flashing between cameras, she picked at her nail beds, turning them into a nice shade of red. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as if she was scared it would run away. 

 the last name norris shined at the top of the leaderboard as the laps went catching up to fifty-seven. he was gonna do it, her boy was gonna it. nobody was sure if it was the gap between max and him or the miami humidity making everyone sweat. 

she’d done a silent prayer in her head, she needed this for him. he deserved it more than anyone else. the papaya livery passed the line once again, the red bull following soon after. The gap was closing, now 6.3 seconds, the time imprinted in her mind. the visual on him up top was tattooed into her memories. 

fifty-five lap. 

he was doing what nobody thought he could, and she was there to see it. she wished she could see his face through the helmet, what would he look like? would he have that big grin on his face that brightened a room, a smirk that was filled with confidence she only dreamed of having or was he so focused that he stared blankly his sight only the black track  

he was on a mission. 

one he’d been wanting to complete the last five years. 

fifty-six lap.

she was embraced with a realization, a realization that her daydream was playing out right in front of her. no words nor thoughts could express how proud she already was of him. there was no doubt in her eyes he’d get here at some point.

she held her hands over her mouth in an anxious prayer position. she hadn’t noticed the camera panning to her, her eyes glued onto the tv. a small text flashed onto an orange background y/n l/n, author. it had missed some three words after author and she hated how much she wanted that.

fifty-seven lap. 

the lap that seemed to last a lifetime.

each turn felt hours long, though she knew deep down that the gap couldn't be closed in one lap. her boy had finally done it, and max couldn’t take it from him. despite this, worry built in her throat, scared that the thirty-three redbull would miraculously close the gap out of nowhere, stealing the one thing he had ever wanted.

the chequered flag waved, everyone rose from their seats, anticipating the long-awaited moment. familiar livery passes over the finish line and lando norris has won the miami grand prix. 

she screamed and cheered hugging the nearest engineer to her, breathing heavily as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened. the garage rushed the barriers waiting for their golden boy to jump out of his car. she wasn’t as close to the front as she had hoped, being squished by many papaya uniforms. She watched as he sprinted to them, to her, jumping into the crowd bearing the same colors on his race suit, hoisted onto the shoulders of his team.

she looked at him and saw the biggest smile she had ever seen break out on his face, matching her own. as soon as he was let down, they locked eyes, and it looked like he was about to cry. she closed the space between them, wrapping him in a hug.  

she stood on her tippy toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, his slung comfortably around her waist squeezing her as if he was scared she’d disappear. “I knew you could do it,” she whispered in his ear, her simple words only meant for him to hear.

a small “thank you” was all that was said in response.

before he pulled away, she placed a delicate kiss on his cheek, the pink gloss that coated her lips staining his face unable to be wiped away before he made his way to the cooldown room. she held her hands in front of her chest finally letting herself breath, a soft smile tattooed on her face as she watched him go. 

never in her life would she declare herself a religious individual–she’d never set a foot in a church before–but for the first time she felt as if her prayers were answered. 

she stayed still for a moment, watching as people rushed to get the best view, staring at the podium; the top step that would soon have landos name written all over it. she wanted to cherish this. she wanted to soak it up and let it stick to her memory like honey.

a posh british accent startled her out of her thoughts, “you should probably start walking over to the podium if you wanna see him properly.” she looked behind her and then looked up, it was george. his sharp features were unmistakable, no description strong enough to truly convey his presence. 

“yeah, you’re right.” she said, oddly nervous. she had talked to george plenty of times in the past, and she’d even dared to call them friends, maybe it was the adrenaline finally washing over her, or the fear that anything could push her out of this dream and she’d wake up in her floral sheets, alone.

he followed behind her as they made their way through the crowd, pushing people before they made it to the front looking up at the podium through the many fences. she pushed her dress down as the wind blew through the humid air, what felt like hours passing before charles took his spot on the third step.

the cheers for him were loud but faded quickly, they all knew who they were there to see waiting for him to take his spot on the top step, where he always belonged.

she hoped that once he stepped up it would feel like a place he didn’t even know he was homesick for. she wanted to feel as if he belonged there, because she knew he did. 

she watched as max stepped up through her tear-blurred vision. she didn’t like how much this meant to her. it was like she’d won, instead of lando. she hated how attached she had gotten, she hated the idea he didn’t feel the same. 

the mclaren driver walked up with the confidence of a man who had done this all before, but with the shock of achieving his childhood dream, it was hard not to be emotional.

lando walked up, clad in his orange suit, with curls she wished to run her hands through, pink kiss mark still on his cheek. she’d stained him as he had stained her body, mind, and soul.

the british national anthem had begun to ring, familiar in her ears, though she was only looking at him as he’d looked up to the sky. his face glistened in the sun, his eyes shut and at peace. 

it wasn’t until the trophies were being handed out that she had let the tears fall. they streamed down her rosy cheeks like rain droplets on a rose petal. 

he’d held the trophy in front of him in disbelief taking a deep breath, though she was the only one to notice the clear rise and fall of his chest. max was the first one to pop his champagne, immediately attacking lando with the bubbly liquid. lando smacked his bottle onto the ground with his iconic pop, a geyser of  alcohol spurting up into the air. 

a few moments after the podium sitters all attempted to spray one another, a now-drenched lando took a sip from the bottle before setting it down, finding her eyes in a sea of thousands. 

they always seemed to find each other, especially when she figured he’d be too preoccupied to look for someone as little as her. she didn’t realize how much she mattered to him. her lips turning upward into a small soft smile reserved for him.

he walked off the podium and she assumed he needed to do his post-race interviews, leaving her wondering what words he’d used to describe his joy.

Instead of leaving for the media pen he made his way to the crowd, heading directly for her, he had some interruptions from fans and drivers alike, but he continued towards her. 

“are you okay?” the concern in her voice was evident, she was his rock, his stability, the thing that held everything together when things got crazy. despite her having nothing together herself.

his calloused, rough-to-the-touch fingers contrasting her own as he held her lightly, like he was afraid she’d break under his touch.

“can we get away from all this?” he asked, it was unlike him, he loved the crowds and he loved the excitement they brought to the paddock but here he was softly holding her hand asking to be alone with her. it warmed her heart at the thought. the thought he wanted to spend a minute of his celebration with her.

they’d walked beside one another through the crowd making their way through. they ended up back in the mclaren garage in his driver's room. she’d been there before a couple times, mainly to play mario party despite her disdain for the game (mostly because she wasn't very good at it). this time, though, it felt more intimate. more meaningful.

“lando, are you alright?” she asked once more, her confusion and worry only growing, this was so unlike him pulling them away from a crowd, staying as silent as he was. his excitement from the win and meeting one of his many goals was still evident on his face but from the rocking on his feet and the biting of the inside of his cheek, she could tell he was nervous. 

they’d been quite close, and despite once making fun of lando for his height or lack thereof, she was now looking up at him, something he never let her forget.

he nodded, though he still was chewing on the inside of his cheek. “are you sure? you're not being yourself.” the tension in the room built as the silence between them grew, air heavy with unresolved feelings and questions of ‘what are we?’.

“I can't take it anymore.” was all lando said before he kissed her. one second his rough hand was caressing her cheek, and the next his lips were on hers. she’d gasped softly, before relaxing into it. this was the last thing she expected from him. they’d always been close, and even after all these years of not seeing one another, they had come back like nothing had changed.

she was still his good luck charm. 

 they melded together like pieces of a puzzle, moving in-sync. her arms around his neck, his hand on her cheek, his other arm still holding her gently by the waist. he smelt heavily of champagne, tyre rubber, and gasoline. and thought it wasn't the most appealing smell, it was so him and she couldn’t get enough of it.

it hadn’t been her first kiss, but it might’ve been the only one that ever mattered. she wrote in kiss scenes over and over again, never finding the right words when it came time to type them out on the page. thinking back, none of them could have ever compared to the shock and contentness she was feeling.

they pulled away from each other, his lips shining with remnants of her lip gloss, he let both hands rest on her waist, holding her close. he sported a grin on his face, “guess i’m going through my goal to-do list today.”

“ i was on your to-do list?” she asked, tilting her head with a furrowed brow. he began to giggle at the implication of the sentence, her mouth slightly agape as she realized what she had said as well. “you’re a child.” her exasperation was clear as day, though it didn’t stopped him from laughing..

They stilled for a moment before bursting into laughter, both elated with the outcome of the day “yes, you’re on my to-do list.” 

she lightly shoved him, though she remained in his arms, not wanting to move, afraid if she did she’d never be able to go back. “shut up.” she responded playfully resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes as she let out a soft laugh of joy, finally where she wanted to be. 

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @c-losur3 @lclitaa @forurforeverwinter @stinkyjax @littlexscarletxwitch @spideybv28 @ijustgomessitupx @sweetrclief @aadu2173 @chezmardybum

[bodyhopper-files]

Body Hopper Files: Mateo

My stomach churned and my mind spun as I found myself in a new body. Again. It was a familiar feeling, but it never got any less disorienting. I had no control over these spontaneous jumps from one person's life to another's. For the past two months, I had been living as a quiet college professor. But now, who was I? Where was I?

I took in my surroundings with a quick glance: a busy kitchen filled with people moving all around. I felt young, definitely younger than the professor. How young, though? Looking at my hands, I saw light brown skin and some tattoos on my arms. My uniform was black and stained with food, an apron tied around my waist. In my pocket, I found a phone that unlocked with my new face as the ID. I switched quickly to the camera and saw myself for the first time; a cute face with full lips and scruffy facial hair greeted me. Probably around 19 years old. Not bad, not bad at all.

Putting the phone away, my next instinct was to feel myself up through the fabric of my uniform. A nice long and thick surprise awaited me in between my legs - a big new sausage to play with. It was quite the contrast from the professor's more modest middle-aged penis (not that I'm complaining! I've grown to appreciate all types of genitalia during these random body switches).

Suddenly, a stern voice called out behind me - Mateo's boss, probably. "Mateo! Get back to work! And stop taking selfies!"

Shit, I was about to get this kid in trouble if I didn't start pretending to be him real soon.

I quickly straightened up and turned to face my boss, trying to play it cool. "Sorry sir, just checking the time," I said with a sheepish smile. I figured I was young enough I could still play it cute and get away things like that.

He grunted in response and turned his attention back to the food he was preparing. With a developed skilled I’d picked up from so many random body hops, I returned seamlessly to Mateo’s daily work, navigating the busy kitchen with ease, knowing exactly what needed to be done and when. It was clear that he was well-liked by his coworkers, who joked and laughed with him throughout the shift. Despite the long hours and physical demands, Mateo loved his job, and before long I felt the same youthful passion as I helped the line cooks out, bussed tables, and flirted with the waitresses. It was all in a night’s work for Mateo.

Before I knew it, closing time neared and the orders slowed. I untied my apron, wiped sweat from my brow and headed to the break room for a much-needed rest before the restaurant closed. Sinking into a plastic chair, I pulled out Mateo's phone again. There were dozens of notifications - mostly messages from friends and family wondering how he was doing in the big city. But I was more interested in his dating profiles.

As I scrolled through the apps, I couldn't help but chuckle at some of the messages he'd been receiving. There were dirty one-liners, shirtless selfies, and even a few invitations to kinky encounters. Mateo clearly had a way with the guys! I responded to a few messages, using his usual flirty tone, all the while feeling that big new sausage throbbing underneath Mateo’s dirty workwear. It wasn’t likely that I’d be spending the night alone, given how some of the men I’d messaged in Mateo’s apps had responded.

"Good work today, Mateo," the head chef called out as he walked by, giving me a friendly pat on the back. I smiled and nodded, trying my best to act natural and turn attention away from my raging boner.

The restaurant finally closed for the night and everyone began to clock out. I made sure to say goodbye and thank all of Mateo's coworkers, who were all too eager to invite me out for drinks. It was tempting, but I had bigger plans for my first night in this new body.

I made my way to the locker room, quickly changing out of my sweaty work clothes along with all the other restaurant staff and into street clothes for a night out. Mateo's phone buzzed with another notification - it was one of the guys I'd been messaging earlier. He wanted to meet up at a nearby bar.

Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, I headed out into the city streets and made my way towards the bar. As I walked, I couldn't help but soak in the feeling of being young and carefree again. It had been so long since I had felt this way, as most of my recent host bodies had been older men with their own set ways and responsibilities. But as Mateo, I could be whoever I wanted to be - a young, attractive guy, new to the city with his whole life ahead of him.

I arrived at the bar and spotted my date sitting at a booth in the corner. He looked just as good as in his pictures; an attractive young man about Mateo’s age but with a larger, more dominant physique. He waved me over eagerly as I approached, giving me an appreciative once-over.

"Hey there, Mateo," he said with a grin as we awkwardly hugged hello.

"Hey," I replied with a flirty smile that came naturally in this body.

We settled into our seats and ordered drinks, chatting about our lives and interests as I delved into Mateo’s memories and personaltiy. As we talked, he reached across the table to brush his hand against mine, sending shivers down my spine. His touch was electric against Mateo's skin.

The conversation eventually turned more flirtatious as our drinks continued to flow. My hands trembled slightly as I leaned in closer to his, my heart racing with anticipation.

“Mateo, do you want to come home with me?”

Finally, it was time for me to give into the urges of the body I now possessed. I smiled seductively and said "I'd love to."

We quickly paid our tab and headed out into the night, his arm wrapped firmly around my waist. As we walked, I could feel Mateo's young, toned body tingling with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.

When we arrived at his apartment, he led me straight to the bedroom, kissing me passionately as we tumbled onto the bed. I eagerly returned his kisses, reveling in the feeling of stubble against Mateo's soft skin.

We had a wonderful evening together, fucking again and again with seemingly unlimited stamina, and then laughing and talking late into the night. I felt comfortable and at ease in Mateo's body, like I could truly be myself, even though I knew I was just a pretender. As it got later, we cuddled up close and fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, sunshine streamed in through the window as I slowly awoke. For a moment, I had forgotten I was in Mateo's body. As I looked around the unfamiliar room, the memories of the night before came flooding back. I smiled thinking about the fun we'd had.

I couldn't help but think my time as Mateo was going to be great. As long as was him, I'd have an easy job that he absolutely loves and hook up with hot men every single night! ----- ----- -----

Original story and AI Illustration by @bodyhopper-files

[greynatomy]

reputation

ella toone x reader

first ella toone fic! was in the drafts for a while and got around to finally finishing it. honestly don’t know where i was going with this

———

You had a reputation.

Once you turned eighteen, you started to rebel, wanting to make your point across. At eighteen, you started getting tattoos and buzzed all your hair, looking completely different from the colorful person you used to be. You wanted to steer away from the child everyone sees you to be and be seen more of an adult. The thing is, your management thought that the only way to do that is to make you out to be a womanizer, getting girls left and right.

The smoking, though, that was on you. Becoming well known starting at the age of fifteen, you’ve been under the spotlight from a young age, being told how to dress, how to act, everything in your life was controlled. The smoking, getting tattoos, cutting your hair was a way for you to get some of the control back.

You are now twenty-five. Fired your old management, signed into a new label who let you be you. Its been two years and you’ve been writing and producing songs on low profile. Your fans still figure out which songs have been written/produced by you - even under pseudonyms. You were loving being out of the spotlight for once.

—

The sun shining through the curtains wakes you up from your sleep, eyes fluttering shut from the light. Your arm tightens its hold from the body it’s slung over, pulling them close.

“Mmm, five more minutes.”

You didn’t reply, just pulled her closer than she already is, drifting back to sleep. About an hour later, you wake up to footsteps running around. Sitting up, back resting against the headboard, you see your girlfriend running around, stuffing things into her training bag. You sat there quietly, admiring your her chaotic form rushing in and out the room.

“You’re staring.”

“Just admiring.” You mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Well, I need to leave now or I’ll be late.”

“Did you pack any going out clothes? Wanna take you out after training.”

“Yeah, but what about my car?”

“I’ll take a cab to the facility. Wait for you.”

“Alright, text me when you’re there.” She leans down, giving you a kiss. “I love you.”

You grab the back of her neck and pull her back when she moves away, pulling her back in for another kiss.

“I love you. Now, go before you’re late.”

“See you soon.”

To make time go by faster, you decided to busy yourself with some cleaning around the house. You quite liked being a little housewife for Ella, cooking, cleaning, waiting for her to get back home from training.

Few hours later, dressed casual, you’re in a cab on the way to St. George’s Park. paying the cab driver, you walk to the parking lot looking for Ella’s car.

Rockstar 🎸🖤

at the car. forgot the spare key. take your time

Looney Toones ❤️⚽️

give me a few minutes

You leaned against the car, answering some messages and emails from your phone. You were too focused to notice a couple of footsteps coming towards you.

“Uh, excuse you. Don’t lean on the car.”

You look up, taking the hood off your head, to see Ella’s best friend, Alessia, and one other.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Hold on.” Mary, the goalkeeper that Ella’s told you about, spoke up. “Why do you look so familiar?”

Before you could answer, you’re cut off by a very loud voice.

“We’re matching!”

Your face instantly lights up at the voice of your girlfriend.

“What a coincidence!”

“Ha. Ha.” Ella realizes you, once again, matched with her on purpose. “What is it with you wanting to match with me?” She smiles at you with adoration.

You shrug. “You ready to go?”

The clearing of a throat breaks the two of you out of your bubble, forgetting about the other two Lionesses.

“Uh, Tooney?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s this?”

Ella’s face lights up. “Oh! This is me girlfriend, Y/N!”

“Nice to meet your two!” You hold your hand out, but it was just stared at. You let out a chuckle, awkwardly putting your hand back down. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. Bye guys.”

Mary and Alessia watch as the car drives off with their friend inside.

“I remember now! She’s Y/N Y/LN. The one I’ve seen on the news always bringing a new one home.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I wouldn’t be surprised if Ella was just another one of her conquests.”

The next day at training, Mary and Alessia approach Ella during break.

“Hey, guys!” Ella greeted them cheerfully.

“Hey, Ella. Uh, just some questions.”

“What is it?”

“Your girlfriend. You know who she is right?”

Ella was now confused. “Uh, yeah. Of course I do.”

“Well, we’re just worried.”

“About?” Now Ella was getting a bit impatient.

“She’s a bit off a womanizer isn’t she?” Alessia blurts out, speaking up for the first time.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s always seen with a new girl hanging by her arm like every week.”

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“Look, Tooney. We’re just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me? Nah, I’m done with this conversation.”

You were in the backyard when you heard the front door slam shut. Looking towards the door, you see your girlfriend stomping towards you and plopping down on your lap.

“What’s happened?”

“Ugh! Can you believe Mary and Less? They had the nerve! The nerve to accuse you of being with me only temporarily.”

“What else did they say?”

“They were talking ‘bout how you always have anew girl hanging off your arm and stuff, but those were from years ago before you fired everyone.”

You wrap your arms tighter around her, pulling her closer. “Well, I mean, look at it from their perspective. They’ve never met me, they don’t know me like you do. All they have is what they’ve seen online. And they’re your best mates, they’re looking out for you.”

After a few moments of silence, Ella now has a look of determination on her face. She grabs her phone and sends out a text.

“They’ll be here in a couple minutes.”

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

“What do you mean in a couple minutes. I haven’t even cleaned the house yet.”

You run around the house picking up anything you could see to put away, wanting to make a good first- technically second- impression with Ella’s best friends.

“Babe.”

You go to grab the vacuum.

“Baby.”

You also grab a broom because what if the vacuum isn’t enough.

“Baby!” She grabs you by the shoulders to keep you in place. “Breathe.” You do as she says. “Okay. The house isn’t even messy and even if it was, they’d know it was from me.”

You nod your head. “True.”

Exactly as Ella stated, there was a knock on your front door a couple of minutes later. She greets them, letting them in and goes to stand next to you.

“This is Y/N. My girlfriend, as I stated yesterday.”

“Hi, nice to meet you both.” You give them a small wave.

Mary’s lips form a straight line while Alessia gives you a small smile in greeting.

“Let me get us something to drink.” Ella announces, leaving the three of you alone.

“What’s your game here?” Mary gets straight to the point.

“Sorry?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“C’mon! You’ve gotten with singers and supermodels, basically everyone. Is Ella another one of your conquests?”

“What? No!”

“I’m not stupid! I know your reputation, you go from one girl to another.”

“Well, then you don’t know me at all!” You were now getting frustrated. You hated when people judge you just because of what they see from the media. You can’t blame them though, that’s all people know you from.

“What’s going on here?” Ella walks back in, drinks in hand, confusion on her face.

“Nothing. Just getting to know—”

“—Actually.” Mary cuts Alessia off. “I just wanted to make sure she is good for you. Based on all the girls she’s been with, I don’t think she is.”

“Okay, that’s enough Mary!”

“I’m just being realistic!”

“No, you’re being an asshole judging my girlfriend from things you see on the internet. You should know not to believe everything you see online. The both of you.” Mary and Alessia looks down in shame. “Also, if you haven’t noticed, she’s been out of the media for two years so everything you’ve seen was from a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s been with half the population before you!”

“It does when you find out that that isn’t true at all.”

“What?” Alessia’s voice was soft but heard.

“My name is-was a brand by the label. I was legally blinded to do what they told me to do and the acting out, smoking, tattoos, those are the only ways I could take some control back, but I never took advantage of anyone. All those girls I’ve been pictured with, I’ve only slept with one until she left me because management wanted to keep the ‘bad girl’ image.”

You move to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from a refrigerator. Popping it open, you take a swig, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Two years ago, I decided to ‘run away’ to Manchester. Fired my whole team and just disappeared.”

“That’s when I met ‘er.” Ella cuts in, wrapping an arm around your waist, leaning into you. “Started dating two months after the countless dates she took me on and it’s been almost two years. She makes me really happy.” The last sentence was directed right at her friends.

“Okay. I’m sorry for judging you so quick.”

“Same with me. I’m sorry.”

“No hard feelings at all.” You give them both a smile. “Now since you’re both here, why don’t you stay for dinner.

The three perk up at the mention of food.

[sunnebeam]

flashback: when you first met.

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' EXTRA.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, blood

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: in case u didn't know, i'm still currently on my aug-oct vacation (see details in pinned post!) and this post was scheduled in advance :> anyways this flashback is really short (mostly bc i was running out of time when writing it) but i hope u still enjoy it. as always, leave ur thoughts <3

You're walking home, having just got off the bus.

There's a spring in your step, mainly because you just had a job interview a few hours earlier and you think you got it in the bag. You're thinking about dropping by the convenience store for some celebratory food when you hear a strangled noise from the nearby alley.

Against your better judgment, you follow the noise, only to find a bloodied, battered man, with a scar across his right eye, slumping against the wall. His shirt is torn and his tattoos peek out from the fabric, but what was once a white shirt is now stained with red from his wounds.

"Oh my god," you exclaim, your hands coming out to cover your opened mouth.

"Go away," the man grunts.

"Sir, you need to get to the hospital," you tell him, walking closer. "You're injured—"

He scoffs. "You should've seen the other guys."

You ignore his comment and move to sling his arm around your neck.

"What are you doing, woman?" he growls, resisting when you try to lift him up. "I told you to go away."

"And I told you, you need to go to the hospital," you scold him, finally managing to get him to his feet.

He tries resisting again but you poke his wounded side. It does the trick and he groans in pain, having no choice but to follow you because he can't do anything else.

The walk proves to be a struggle, but in the end, you manage to get him to your apartment after he argued with you and insisted he can't show his face in a hospital.

("The hospital's on enemy turf. I can't go there.")

The pain must be too much for him because he passes out as soon as he reaches your couch and he pretty much stays asleep while you treat his wounds as best as you can.

You leave a glass of water and some painkillers on the coffee table near your couch for when he wakes up, before you move to your bedroom to the do your night routine and finally get some sleep.

By the next morning, he's gone.

He's a strange man, you realize. Always talking in cryptic words, strange tones, and poetic sentences. But you naturally start to forget about him as the days go on.

Until one day.

You arrive at work, having been accepted at the corporate job you had an interview with, to find a gigantic arrangement of flowers on your desk. There's no card, so you chalk it up to a random admirer, and go about your day.

But it doesn't stop with the flowers.

Throughout the rest of the week, you receive an assortment of gifts. From expensive chocolates, designer clothes, and even an engraved kitchen knife.

And what surprises you is that the kitchen knife, of all things, provides the most answers because there's a card. It doesn't contain a message but there is a single name written.

Yoongi.

You blink.

Who the fuck is Yoongi?!

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖Make it Stick: Pt. 1 The Dragon

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 1103

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

“Да. Good. Make sure she stays that way. Now, tell me everything.” Bucky listens to his henchman’s answer, pissed in general but only getting truly angry when he hears one specific detail. “She was with who?! Ублюдок!!” He takes the phone away from his face for a second as he curses in three different languages. Fucking Gleb. He fucking knew it. He’s going to cut his fucking dick off! When he brings the phone back up to his face, all he utters is a deathly quiet, “We’re in the Dragon’s Den. Get them here. Both of them.” He ends the call.

The gun at Bucky’s back has stopped buzzing. Funny, how it’s the sudden lack of pain that makes goosebumps rise to his skin. “Boss?” Natasha asks.

Bucky’s eyes flick over to Steve, who’s sitting next to the Karpovs on the couch. One moment of intense eye contact between the two of them, and Steve’s face goes wan in recognition. Tight-lipped, Bucky gives an almost imperceptible nod of confirmation. Steve squares his shoulders and pushes up to standing to go over to the bar. The guy has an almost preternatural ability to predict Bucky’s wants and needs, which is one reason why he’s risen through the ranks so fast (well, it's one, leastways). He artfully flips a lowball, knowing what this situation calls for without having to be told; ice and two fingers of the Russo-Baltique that’s so expensive, Bucky once stabbed a guy’s hand into a table for drinking it without permission.

Steve delivers the glass and retreats to stand sentinel along the wall. Bucky sips, sets it down, growls and grabs it up again. He rolls the liquor in his mouth as he fumes, a dark plan starting to form in his head. It comes together quickly, because it’s not like he hasn’t spent plenty of time fantasizing about it before now. What he’d do when he finally got her back.

His little one is tenacious and likes to make trouble. She has a penchant for running away, but she’s never lasted this long before. It’s been over ten months—long enough to put the fear of God in Bucky that he could actually lose her for good, if he isn’t more careful. So, he has to be careful, has to make a statement, send a message. He has to make it stick.

Luckily, when it comes to “sending messages,” Bucky Barnes can be very creative. Like tattooing, torture is an oft underappreciated artform. “Dimi,” he barks. “I’m expecting some special guests tonight. Go and sort things out downstairs. I want the place packed by ten—Make sure it’s with the right people.”

“Boss?” Lev pipes up, confused. He’s Karpov’s kid brother: new, inexperienced but eager, still “earning his scales,” as the boys like to say.

Dimitri jerks his head for his brother to follow him. “Boss wants a demonstration. C’mon.” He’s already got his phone out as they leave the room to get things arranged. Bucky’s “demonstrations” usually require plastic sheeting and a crowd of people who are either Hydra themselves, or else educated enough to know to keep their mouths shut about Bratva business.

“Where’d they find her?” Steve asks.

Bucky scoffs, still fuming. “Floating off the coast of Belize. On my own fucking yacht. Can you even believe that?”

“Sounds like her.”

“Lena?” Nat hums. “Who’d you send?”

“Maximoff and Belova have her.” Bucky grits his teeth at the sting as Natasha uses a wet cloth to wipe off the excess blood and ink. He can feel her scrutinizing her work. “You can keep going,” he tells her, but she ‘tsks’ in that way that only a Russian tongue can really do.

“We’ll come back to it. Skin behaves differently when you’re not relaxed.”

“I’m am relaxed!” He hears how ridiculous he sounds and heaves a long sigh, trying to let his shoulders untense to at least somewhere below the level of his ears. “I’m relaxed.”

“Keep saying it and it might come true.” Nat rolls away on her stool, peeling off her gloves with finality. “Your blood pressure and vodka’ll push the ink out faster than I can stick it. Just come over to the Red Room once it’s done scabbing and we’ll finish it then.”

She’s already packing up her stuff when Bucky gets the idea. “Wait.” He narrows his eyes at the rolling toolkit that Nat keeps in the club’s upstairs lounge just for him and his men. “Do me a favor,” he says slowly, the idea taking shape in his mind. “Run down to the shop and print out a transfer for me. Cyrillic. A small font. Something pretty but … bold. Easy to read.”

Natasha tenses. “What do you want it to say?”

“собственность дракона.”

“No,” she says, and when Bucky looks over, she’s standing ramrod straight.

“Clearly, you disapprove.”

“I’m not inking it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he snaps, low on patience tonight, even for Natasha. “Print it out on a goddamn transfer sheet and bring it to me.”

She’s doing that dead faced thing she does—where she goes still like a doll to avoid making some expression she doesn’t want you to see. Right now, Bucky suspects it might be sheer disdain. “Size?” she asks. “Shaping?”

“One line straight up the forearm. Delicate lettering, but clear as a fucking bell to read.”

“That still doesn’t tell me what spacing—”

“You know how big she is, you figure out the fucking spacing!” he yells. “Or what the fuck am I even paying you for?!”

Natasha goes eerily still, then abruptly pivots to leave, the severe line of her hair whipping around with the motion. She’s unhappy with him.

“Red ink!” Bucky calls out, the door slamming shut after her a millisecond later. He grinds his teeth together and stands up from the chair he’s been perched in for the past three hours, carrying his drink over to the mirrors so that he can get a better look at his back.

Scales, teeth, claws. Crouched and curling across his shoulders, tendrils creeping up onto his neck, marking him as what he is: Дракон.

The Dragon.

“Will you help me?” he asks Steve, quiet now that it’s just the two of them.

“Depends on what you want me to do.”

“It depends”—No other man in the Bratva could give such an answer and expect to remain in one piece. But Steve’s gaze is steadfast when Bucky meets it and tells him, “She’s gotten away with too much for too long. It’s time to shorten the leash.”

In the mirror, Steve’s eyes darken. He nods.

Take me to part 2!

Masterlist

If you like what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

Commissions: contact via Tumblr messenger or Kofi

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Not Another Time

ONE SHOT

[ or Part 2 of Could We Not ]

<< Request >> "I loved could we not. Can you maybe also write when that guy came running on stage and he maybe pushes reader out of the way or something like that😅" - anon

<< Request >> "Omg PLEASE could you do more parts or ‘could we not’ literally loved it!!!" - @loza--may

Summary: Harry is used to things getting crazy on tour. What he wasn't ready for is how much he misses YN during the Latin American leg of his tour. But at the Rio de Janeiro show, he needs to expect the unexpected.

AN: Highly requested part 2, which I wasn't expecting but am so honored to have written for you all. Sorry it took me FOREVER to write and post this. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Some explicit language, attempted attack by a fan, mild head injury

Not much can shake Harry when it comes to wild moments on tour, throughout his entire career. There once was a fan hiding in a trash bin, dildos thrown at his face, wedding proposals, canceled shows due to illness, and there was even a time when a girl tried to dolphin her way onto the stage, back in the early days. But he still loves it, loves it all. It's titled 'Love On Tour' for a reason.

Now, he's in Latin America. Any and every performance here has such a special place in Harry's heart. He has a 'brasil' tattoo on his thigh, after all. However, the time is a little different.

The horn players have not accompanied the band for these shows. No trombone, no saxophone, and no trumpets. Which means no YN. No sweet but subtle winks onstage, no flirtatious comments backstage, no seeing her bright smile, no hearing her pure laugh, or getting lost in her beautifully deep eyes. No gazing at her lips and wishing so desperately that he could kiss them again.

Unfortunately, their first kiss was their last. Harry hopes that's not forever. But after it happened, he got sick, putting a crimp in his plans to further things with her. When he recovered, their time was taken up by those last few shows in Los Angeles. Then he was off to Mexico. And she wasn't.

Needless to say, her absence is very apparent. To him, at least.

So, like he has done every show since Guadalajara, Harry checks his phone after getting dressed. He wants to make sure he hasn't missed any 'good luck' texts before going on stage, but a disappointed sigh releases as he sees that he has no new messages.

"Alright, H. Ten minutes." The stage assistant announces.

Harry nods, handing his phone over and grabbing his mic pack from the sound tech. The band gathers around for a little pre-show ritual and Harry feels the tug on his heart, wishing there were four more members in their huddle, so there could be one particular member tucked under his arm. But he commits to staying focused on his performance, to put on a good show for the people of Rio de Janeiro.

Despite a few fans fainting in Bogota, things have been relatively smooth so far, and this night should be no different. All he has to do is get out there and get through it.

"Do you know the words to this one Rio?" Harry shouts to the crowd as the band begins to play 'What Makes You Beautiful'.

Despite his efforts, this song always makes him miss YN. The trumpets in the backing track just don't do this song, or any of the songs, as much justice as when she is there, with him, playing live. The other three too, of course, but he has always been able to distinguish her trumpet from the other horns, and he would always dance near her while this song played. Without that, without her, it's just not nearly as exciting.

As he begins the second verse, Harry moves to his left, twisting around to tug on the mic cord that feels as if it's caught on something.

"I don't know why you're being shy…" Harry's eyes shoot up and then around as a security guard strides past him, settling his gaze on a figure charging towards him. "And you turn away when I look into your eyes."

It's like a flash. He is walking, then swiveling around, moving over, and then backing up into another security guard. All within a matter of a few seconds. It takes a moment for him to fully understand what's happening, as multiple crew members grab hold of the man.

Watching him be dragged offstage, Harry moves back to the center mic, still in shock of what happened but still wanting to continue the song.

He glances over to each side of the stage, shaking the disbelief away when he meets the gazes of a few of the band and crew. Each one reciprocates the sentiment, yet seem to keep their caution, as a few of them motion over that way. Harry turns back, just for a quick check, and notices a small group of people gathered in a huddle. He turns back to the crowd. He trusts his team, he knows they are handling whatever it is, and he won't let this one moment take away from the show. It can't stop him. It won't stop him.

As the song ends he takes a quick moment to gather himself and take a breath before turning to the crowd.

"Well that was different…" He states sarcastically, though truthfully. It's probably one of the more accurate ways to describe that moment, especially if he's trying to keep this a 'family show', as he always claims. "Is everybody okay?"

The fans laugh and cheer, seeming to answer his question with the same disbelief he feels.

"I'm shooketh… I'm shooketh!" He exclaims, receiving another laugh from the audience. At least they are recovering and feeling good. Now he can recover and feel good too. He twists around, looking from one side of the stage to another, meeting the gaze of a few security guards and crew as he does so. "Thank you, thank you. You saved me!"

That's when he catches it. The glimpse of a familiar face, of YN's face, off to the side of the stage, among the small group he had noticed earlier. However, her expression is not one he's seen before. Well, only once before. It's pained, again, but this time it looks worse, and Harry feels his stomach drop.

He transitions into a quick acknowledgement of his band members, his mind wanting to focus solely on the one who wasn't even scheduled to be there, but as soon as he's done, he takes advantage of what's next.

He uses the band mic to let everyone know he'll be off to the side while the extended introduction to 'Late Night Talking' plays on the screens, and once the lights dim he swiftly makes his way over.

"YN. What's-... what are you-… umm, hi." He fumbles, his thoughts racing with so many questions. He didn't even know she'd be in Brazil, or at the show, let alone on the side of the stage, and now she's standing there in front of him, with an ice pack on her head.

"Hi." She chuckles minimally, hurting Harry's heart with the lack of usual enthusiasm and joy. "I came… to surprise… everyone."

"Well, you did that!" He exclaims, managing as best of a smile as he can. His gaze travels from her eyes, to her lips, and then up to her head, and his expression immediately drops. "What happened?"

"It's nothing." She attempts to play off, much like the last time he saw her injured. "Don't worry about me."

"That's impossible." He retorts. "What happened?"

"The guy… the fan, just… knocked me down… on his way out with security." She shakes her head, scoffing, though Harry feels as if she's directing it towards herself more than anyone else.

"Okay. Umm… go backstage and get checked out." He states, his ears picking up on the music, knowing he'll have to return to center stage in just a few moments. "I'll… I'll see you after, yeah?"

"Harry, I'm fi-"

"Just do it!" He exclaims, immediately wincing as he watches her eyes widen with surprise. He's never talked to her like that, never even raised his voice even remotely in her direction without it being out of excitement or flirtation. But he cares about her, and now he will only worry more seeing her there in pain. "Please."

She nods, opening her mouth with a reply, but seemingly deciding against it.

Harry gives YN a quick kiss on the cheek and hustles back over to his mic stand, shooting his gaze to the side for one last glance of her as she walks out of sight.

It's not as if he's going to stop worrying, but maybe it'll be a little less than it would if she were still there watching him. He knows she'll be taken care of, and he'll see her when it's over. Right now, he needs to get through the rest of it, preferably without any other issues.

"... on a Summer evening, what is happening? An-... you're the end of… we are going to stop the song."

Technical difficulties. During 'Watermelon Sugar'. Of course. As if Harry's mind wasn't already somewhere else. He knows it's an easy fix, hopefully, but it's just another thing added to the existing thoughts already causing chaos in his mind. He's a professional, sure, but everyone has a limit and he just doesn't want to find out where his is.

Get through it. That's all he has to do, just get through the next song, the show, and the night. Just get through it and then get to YN.

'Love of My Life' is next. Thankfully it's a slow song, so he can calm his mind and body down, even just a little, before the break in the set. And at that point he can finally regroup.

It works, for a moment, until he notices that some fans need help, and despite making his team aware, they are still there struggling. He lifts the mic stand up and turns his head back, motioning with his finger, with some intensity, for someone to help them and get them out of there.

He feels himself spiraling, just a bit, and has never looked forward to the end of a song as much as he is tonight.

As Harry waves to the crowd, with a mouthful of water, he impatiently waits to spit it up in the air, thank the crowd, and get the hell off stage.

The crowd continues to applaud and cheer as he says goodbye, turning around and using the last bit of energy he has to run backstage.

He stops among the hustle of the crew, realizing he isn't sure where to go, or where to even start looking for YN. The most likely place is his dressing room, so he swiftly shuffles his way there, doing his best to acknowledge anyone he passes by that congratulates or compliments him. He feels bad, he usually takes time with each person, always grateful for their work and feedback. But not tonight. He only has one person on his mind. One person he wants and needs to see.

He swings the door open and takes a quick scan of the room, finding no one. Not anyone. Not her. He runs his fingers through his now very sweaty hair, inhaling deeper to catch his breath and figure out where to go next, where to look next.

He takes a seat on the couch, elbows resting in his knees, and glances over to the table in front of him to find a note that wasn't there before. He grabs it immediately, blinking the salty moisture out of his eyes as he looks over the words.

"Hey H.

Went back to the hotel.

Hope you had a great

rest of your show!

- YN"

"Fuck." He mumbles, suddenly remembering how he yelled for her to go backstage. Well, he could argue that he only raised his voice, but in that moment, that hectic moment, it didn't matter. He shouldn't have done it at all. And truth be told, it would've made the entire night better if she had stayed. But he yelled, and sent her away. Now all he wants to do is go to her and make it better, make her feel better.

After the fastest shower and outfit change of his life, Harry found Jeff and discovered that his manager helped YN get there, so he knew which hotel room was hers. At least Harry didn't have to spend countless hours searching all of Rio for her.

He stands in front of her door and takes a deep breath, nerves on edge as he knocks, and fully prepared for her to open the door and ask him to leave. Immediately.

"Harry?" He hears, causing his gaze to lift from his shoes to the woman in front of him. She's dressed in cotton shorts and a t-shirt, looking comfortable and yet more beautiful than he's ever seen her. He just wishes she wasn't also holding another ice pack to her temple.

"YN." He breathes out, unable to form any other words as he looks her over, hopefully more subtle than he fears it might be. "Are y-... how… I mean, umm…"

The sweetest sound grabs his attention and he watches her step aside as she lets out a small giggle.

"Come in."

He nods, and without hesitation steps into the room. The sound of the door closing causes him to swivel on his heel, and his eyes stay fixed on YN as she motions him over to the edge of the bed.

"What's up?" She asks, casually, removing the ice pack and placing it down beside her.

"I, umm, wanted to check on you." He answers, not convinced his volume was even loud enough to be heard. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." She swiftly responds, and he cringes at the lack of emotion with it. Even though it was only one word, he feels as if he knows her well enough to know that's not her normal tone. "Hit my head when the guy knocked me to the ground."

"I'm so sorry, YN. I didn't know you were there tonight, or I would've…" He pauses, looking down to where his nails pick at each other. "I don't know… I could've done… something…"

"No, Harry, I'm sorry." She states, causing his gaze to shoot back up to find hers filled with, what looks like, embarrassment. And maybe even regret. But definitely with insecurity, which is not something he's used to seeing from her. "I shouldn't have come."

"Oh." His heart drops.

"I feel like I may have been in the way. Well, I was for that fan…" She states, the smallest smile lifting the corners of her mouth, despite the roll of her eyes and shake of her head. "But I definitely didn't want to be in yours."

"No! I'm glad you're here!" He replies, without hesitation, and watches as her eyes widen, now allowing him to see the depths at which they usually take him to.

"You are? Because it seemed like…" YN clears her throat, confirming for Harry that she is in fact nervous. Not confident. And it seems to be his fault. "It seemed like you were upset when you saw me."

"No! Not at all." Harry replies, his frustration with himself appearing in the crease between his brows. "I wasn't upset seeing you there, I was upset seeing you hurt. Really upset. I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, H. I'm alright."

"I know. I know that. I just… I was worried for the rest of the show, wondering if you were okay. It was torturing me."

"I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm really sorry." She lets out a sigh, and it almost breaks Harry's heart as she drops her gaze and squeezes her eyes shut.

"No, don't-... that's not-..." Harry lets out a low growl in frustration. He doesn't know how to express what he means, and if he even should. But at this point, he doesn't know if he can hold back. "It was torture because all I wanted to do was fix it for you. Like last time."

"Like last time?"

He hears her breath hitch, and his heart races more, feeling each beat thump against his chest. They had shared a kiss the last time she got hurt. They spent the rest of the night together, hanging out and talking until the sun was almost rising. But then nothing. Was that it? Was it just a one time thing, just a momentary thing after an adrenaline-raising show? No, it wasn't. Not for him. And she needs to know.

"I… like you, YN. A lot. And that night… meant a lot to me." He fully turns his body towards her, gaining a fraction of the confidence for himself that he has always seen in her, and since she is now there in Brazil, he won't waste another minute without sharing his heart. "We didn't really get to talk much afterwards, or see each other even, but I just need you to know that… I want to be with you. If… if that's something you want too."

Harry watches as she pulls her lips inward, hoping that the expression he sees underneath is pleasant. Pleasant for him. But he suddenly realizes that if she doesn't feel the same, he doesn't want to lose her. For the band.

"If it's not, no problem. We can move past it." He swallows the lump caught grasping against the walls of his throat. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and don't want you to leave the band over it. You're very talented, YN."

"Thank you." She replies, looking over at him with those gorgeous eyes and a tenderness she's never given him before, and despite him offering to move past his feelings, for the sake of his heart, he desperately hopes that she feels the same. He wants her to only look at him like that from now on. "And that night meant a lot to me as well."

"Yeah?" He responds, shifting in his spot at the edge of her bed, with all the giddiness of a lovesick school boy.

"I want to be with you too, H."

His palms fly up to her cheeks, receiving a warmth from them that flows right to his chest. His gaze flickers to her lips, yearning for them, desperate for them.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" She chuckles, and his heart swells from the self-assurance that she always expresses, that he has fallen for.

He grins, wider than he ever has, but only for a moment. He's not going to wait any longer. He leans closer, and her eyes close, pursing her soft lips to meet his in a gentle kiss.

Her hands run up his arms, applying pressure as they move over his shoulders, and connect behind his neck. She pulls him closer, and his tongue teases her lips before she parts them, each sighing as they deepen the kiss.

His chest tightens, this time out of need for air, so he pulls back, only leaving enough room for a breath, and smiles as he hears her release her own, happy exhale.

"How are you feeling now?" He asks, resting his forehead against hers as one hand strokes over the hair covering her temple.

"Much better. I do need to rest now, though." She whispers. "But, you know, I may have a concussion…"

"That's not funny."

"No, it's not. It's very serious." She pulls away more, hands still behind his head, and his mind fills with worry. Worry and confusion, as he watches her smile reappear through her solemn expression. "I should probably have someone stay with me tonight. To make sure I'm alright, of course."

"Of course." He smirks, feeling his heart burst, following as she scoots up the bed and rests her head on the pillow.

He does the same, laying down to face her, and sees her eyes begin to flutter shut. It's been an exhausting day for the both of them.

"Come here." He whispers, opening his arms for her to settle in, wrapping them around her body, and pulling her to his chest. "You doing okay?"

"More than okay." She utters, drowsiness now coating her words. "Thank you, for fixing things."

"Anytime." He replies, placing a tender kiss on top of her head. "I'll fix things for you anytime."

A silence falls between them, and as he hears her soft breaths leave her even softer lips, Harry hums in contentment, allowing his own body to succumb to the rest it now needs too. He shuts his eyes, and one last thought appears as he feels himself happily drift off to sleep.

Despite all the chaos, this night didn't turn out so bad after all. With YN, it's been the best one yet.

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[sykestarot]

what transformations will happen for you in 2024

1-2-3 (left to right)

I DO NOT OWN THESE IMAGES

Hi guys! I took a break due to the holidays but I hope all of you guys had a great holiday and new year!! Thanks for stopping by and enjoy!

Pile 1

"are there still beautiful things?" (Temperance; The High Priestess (rx); two of swords (rx); page of swords; The Star; queen of cups (rx)) Hi pile 1 for you guys I feel a very youthful energy, maybe you just graduated highschool? I feel a sudden sense of responsibility that’s washed over you. Like life has just begun but you long so much to go back to a simpler time. Even if you are older and have been out of high school for some years I can see you being stuck in a corporate machine and working long hours just to not enjoy life outside of work. For the people who chose this pile that are older you’re struggling with work life balance and that this year that can be changed. I see you being able to go on vacation and relax with family this year. For the people who have just graduated high school I see you are feeling like you won’t be able to handle the balance of adult life or working like that. For you I see that you’ll do just fine and you should remember that no one was just perfect at being an adult right out of the gate. Everyone makes mistakes but few learn from them. Let yourself learn from your mistakes, don't let your ego get in the way of your growth. As far as this pile goes I see that you are in the very beginning of your transformations and you will be frustrated but it will all workout in the end. You will be able to transform and grow the way that you feel like you need to.  For this reading I also pulled out some messages from your guides from an oracle deck! For you guys there is “Be Peace”, “Make your dreams real”, “be open to compromise”, and “give yourself time”. Your guides want to tell you to be open and patient. They believe in you even when you don't, so please continue to work hard. If others in your waking don’t believe in what you’re doing you have to be your biggest fan! Also remember to take deep breaths!! Signs: growing up; major milestones; bare feet in dirt; balance; ying yang (tattoo?); cycles; circle of life; less freedom; tired; doves; spiders; spider webs; pearls; purple; 9

Pile 2

(10 of cups; The Star; queen of pentacles; queen of wands; 10 of swords; 3 of pentacles) Hi Pile 2! For this pile I am getting that what will transform the most in your life is the way you approach relationships. I feel like you didn't want your 2024 transformations to be centered around other people and that's not necessarily what this message means. For you I see that you've hung onto people who aren't good for you for a long time and its time to let them leave if they want . I see that your idea of love is giving yourself away so much that you don't even remember who you are anymore. So in that way changing how you approach relationships will actually serve you by bringing you closer to your soul and who you are without outer validation. Which is such an albeit cool journey to be on it is painful as well, but I see you turning all the pain and suffering into strength to persevere. I feel as though you lost your identity and individualism in a group were a part of. I also feel like you have always wanted to go back to how you were before them, but there is no going back, only going forward and creating new. You can always pull inspiration from the past and incorporate it in the future but you won't be able to be exactly who you were before and that in itself is okay. I feel so much pain in you pile 2 because of what others have done to you, you feel like you will always be the person you are, but you don't have to be. you always have the free will and the choice to change. Stay strong! For this reading I also pulled out some messages from your guides! Your guides Pile 2, want you to remember how much you can rely on the universe and how much you yourself create! (“magic works through you”; “the abundant universe will provide”) I also see that they highly encourage you to stand your ground and keep your boundaries when others ask you to do things for them that you are either uncomfortable with or just plainly don’t want to do! Your guides really love you and feel so sad with the way you feel about yourself. Sending you love and light pile 2! <3 Signs: green; fresh cut grass; 777; fresh crisp air; fresh rain; fresh; apples; breeze; scenic views; iron gate; the ocean from far away

Pile 3

"but things are just different since she cut her blue hair off"

(7 of swords; The Lovers; page of pentacles (rx); page of wands; 8 of pentacles; king of swords (rx)) Hi pile 3! So for your pile I see as far as transformations go you also have a sense of responsibility this year or a need to grow up. I feel like you guys are still young but not fresh out of high school young. I get maybe mid to late twenties. For you guys I see that you are tired of working at passion projects and feel the need to get a “big girl/boy job”. I feel like most of you have degrees in something but you didn’t like the fields and ended up chasing other dreams, but because they haven’t worked out you’re ready to surrender and go to the career that you chose to study in. Or maybe you just continued to go to the minimum wage job you had because you knew everybody and the money was easy and the situation of everything was comfortable to you. But if that’s the case I see you itching for something different and more mature. For you I feel like the idea of working in a corporate job was actually the signifier that your youth was over. LOL. I feel now though that your ready for this change and you might be fighting with yourself that you won’t be as fun anymore because of where you’ll be working, but that’s just not true. Just because your job will change doesn’t mean your identity will. Anyways for you guys I feel a much more lighthearted energy because I feel as though you’ve been anticipating it and already been sitting in your cocoon for a minute just waiting for the right moment to emerge with your beautiful wings! Good job pile 3, keep it up!!  For this reading I pulled messages from your guides as well! For you guys I see that your guides are encouraging you to take the lead and be an active participant in the change that happens in your life. They also are insistent that there will be a rebirth in your life and as I said earlier I feel like you are aware of it to some degree if not fully. (“take the lead”; “a rebirth is assured”) I also see them emphasizing not to listen to others telling you not to make this change and that their words only hurt your ego and not to let them have too much of an effect on your choices, as well as taking time to think before you do anything is recommended! Signs: carnival; pier; plushies; tattoos; patterned tights; two high ponytails; black lipstick; alternative fashion; cats; hearts

[lilacbunnygirl]

Black Cat Luck

Chapter 1 - Worst Date Ever !!

♪ Her Way - PARTYNEXTDOOR ♪

➵ word count: 5,142

➵ warnings: this story includes +18 contents. so minors dni !!! if you wanna look at tropes and warnings here is the teaser chapter for black cat luck.

➵ author’s note: hello guys! this is the first chapter of black cat luck. i hope everyone would enjoy. This chapter is short little bit i know that but i'll write the other chapters longer than this one. if you comment your thoughts about this chapter, i would be honored. sending lots of love <33 lilacbunnygirl

❝To everyone who has been hurt by love and believes they will be alone forever; perhaps what you need is just a sexy tattoo artist with a motorcycle...❞

Reader’s Pov

This wasn’t going to work. How much longer could you stay hidden in the bathroom? You had been avoiding the man you came to meet for about 10 minutes. But this wasn’t a normal date. No. It was the worst date of your life.

Damn. When was your aunt going to find you a decent person? This was the fifth person she had set you up with, and it was getting worse. It actually started out well. When you first arrived at the date, he welcomed you nicely. When you said you wanted a cocktail, he suggested his favorites from the menu and helped you. When he asked you about your life, he listened with full attention. You were thinking that maybe being in a date is not bad at all. He was handsome and chivalrous. A man who seemed to be settled in his life. For now.

Everything had gone to hell the moment he started talking about himself. You didn’t know how the conversation had turned to his ex. For a full 30 minutes (you knew this precisely because you kept checking your phone to see when this asshole gonna shout his mouth), he had been talking about how he had cheated on her, how it was quite normal for men, but that she hadn’t understood this and had left him.

“So you know, cheating is a necessity for men. Who wants to keep sleeping with the same woman? You need to look for new adventures.”

After hearing that, you had considered smashing your cocktail glass over his head. There was nothing more annoying than a man who wouldn’t admit his fault. Narcissistic jerk. You were hoping that girl was happy now.

You needed to get away from this guy quickly to avoid losing your sanity. You said you needed to call someone and walked towards the bathroom.

And you had been there for 10 minutes. You didn’t know how much longer you could stall. You found your aunt in the messages and started venting your hatred about the man you were meeting:

You: Did you really work so hard to find this guy?

Aunt Mikasa: What’s the problem this time?

You: He talked for 30 minutes about how he cheated on his ex. I think that’s a good enough reason.

Aunt Mikasa: You can’t be serious? God, he seemed perfect from the outside.

You: Unfortunately, I am serious. Look, I love you very much, but you need to stop setting me up with these blind dates urgently.

Aunt Mikasa: Sweetie, I’m just trying to help. Also, aren’t you bringing anyone to my wedding? I don’t want you to die alone 😔

You: God, Aunt! I’m happy with my life. I might not have a boyfriend, but there are men who bring me pleasure even for one night 😏

Aunt Mikasa: Young lady, don’t even think about telling your aunt about your sex life!

Aunt Mikasa: You’re grown up now. You need to get yourself together and find someone.

After the last message from your aunt, you turned off your phone and put it back in your bag. You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh. You were content with your life. You had decided this after your last relationship. You didn’t want to relive those dark days. One-night stands were risk- free. There was no attachment, just pleasure.

You knew your aunt was worried about you, but there was no problem. You were still a 20 fucking year old young woman. Of course, you’d have fun and get yourself into trouble. It annoyed you that your aunt acted like she hadn’t done the same at her age.

You decided to take one last look at yourself in the mirror before going back inside.

The jerk was still sitting there. No matter how much you didn’t want to approach him, you sighed and let your feet take you to the table.

“Oh welcome back, I was starting to worry about you. Since your cocktail was finished, I ordered another one for you. God, where was I? Yes, that slut is talking to someone else right now…”

That was the last straw. You couldn’t take it anymore and poured your delicious cocktail over the man.

Sorry, my dear cocktail….

“Look jerkhead, one of the things I hate most in this life is arrogant pricks like you. I hope your ex is very happy with the person she found. Also, talking about your ex to someone you’re on a date with is rude. God, what is the problem with these man’s attitude ?” You threw your bag over your shoulder and walked away from the table as that jerk cursed at you from behind in shock.

When you went outside, you started walking angrily. The heels were hurting, but you needed to walk to the main street to find a taxi. As you walked, you began to feel the cold air all over your body.

“Damn, I wish I had brought something to put on,” you muttered to yourself.

You decided to light a cigarette to warm yourself up. Taking out the pack and lighter from your bag, you lit the cigarette to calm your nerves and warm your body. Being an addict was shitty. But in situations like this, nicotine helped you relax.

As you walked to the main street, your phone rang. As if she knew how bad your situation was, Iris’s name appeared on the screen.

“Yes?”

“Wow, was it that bad of a date?” Iris was shouting a bit due to the loud music in the background.

Sighing, you said, “I think it was one of the worst. I might have ended the date by throwing my cocktail in his face. And damn, that cocktail was really good.”

Your best friend laughed, “So you’re saying you put someone in their place again?”

“That jerk totally deserved it. Whole night he talked about how he cheated his ex girlfriend and cheating is actually so normal. I hope his ex is really happy now. God, how could she have put up with him for so many years?”

“Well love is strong enough to blind people, sweetie.”

“I guess you’re right. That’s why love and getting attached are for cowards. By the way, what’s the chance of you being at Legacy tonight?” You asked, hoping your best friend would be at your usual bar.

“Yeah i am here with Sato. Since you have nothing better to do, come over right away.”

“You said exactly what I was thinking. God, that’s why you’re my best friend and I love you. I’ll find a taxi and come over. See you in there.”

“I love you too, baby. Bye.”

When the call ended, you realized you had arrived at the main street. You put out your nearly finished cigarette and waved to a passing empty taxi. When you got into the taxi, you told the driver where to go and began watching the road through the window.

What you needed most right now was your best friend and some alcohol.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

When you arrived at Legacy, the music inside wasn’t too loud, but you could still hear it from outside. You were surprised to hear “Till The World Ends” playing. Usually, they played jazz here. While you and Iris were looking for a place to drink and have fun, Iris’s uncle had recommended this place to you.. He was usually the one who found great spots.

Satoru Gojo. Arrogant, annoyingly handsome, and perhaps the most talented chef in the world…

There was no denying that when you first saw him, you couldn’t quite comprehend how someone like him could be real. He was magnificent. The frustrating part was that he knew it too. Like most chefs, his ego was larger than the universe. Even though you’d roll your eyes every time he bragged about how good he was, deep down, you knew he was right.

Iris had lost her family when she was five years old. The person who took her in when she was all alone was Satoru. Their bond was something else. She was the only thing he had left of his dearly loved sister. Although they had faced tough times, they had overcome them together.

When you pushed open the door to the place, the music got a little louder. You always liked Britney. Passing the bar, you saw your usual table and two white haired heads.

They looked almost identical. Whitish hair, fair skin, and a beautiful face. Maybe the only difference was their eyes. While Satoru had perhaps the lightest and most beautiful shade of blue, Iris’s were like a lush green forest.

As soon as Iris saw you, she stood up and ran to you, hugging you so tightly you thought your organs would be crushed.

“My God, you’re frozen. Don’t tell me you didn’t wear your coat !” She scolded you like a mother.

Hugging your best friend back, you replied, “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve been forgetting everything lately.”

Iris pulled her arms away from you and crossed them under her chest. “You need to take your B12 supplements.”

“I know, but I keep forgetting those too.”

“What am I going to do with you! You’re like a disobedient child.”

“Oh, but you love me just like this, so it’s no big deal. I didn’t know they played Britney Spears here?”

Iris dropped her serious tone. “Right? There’s a bachelorette party on the left. I think they requested pop music for tonight.”

Looking over to the left, you saw a group of girls taking shots and laughing. “They know how to have fun.”

“Looks like it, but they can’t have more fun than us. We really need to have a girls’ night out soon. I can’t even remember the last time we did that.”

“Maybe because of that damned ‘Introduction to Econometrics’ class? As hot as Professor Nanami is, I still hate that class.”

Iris laughed. “At least we have some motivation to go to class. God, I wish he wasn’t married.”

Walking towards the table, you agreed with your best friend, “I wish… Then maybe we’d have a shot at a threesome. Who knows, with those fingers and what must be an impossibly large cock, we’d orgasm at least five times that day.”

“I think I know what I’ll be daydreaming about before bed tonight.”

Laughing at Iris’s words, you arrived at the table, where Satoru was looking at you both with furrowed brows.

“Do I need to ask what’s so funny? And for God’s sake, didn’t you wear a coat?”

Great. He’s in dad mode again, you thought to yourself. “Yes, I forgot, and I doubt you want to hear what we were laughing about, Satoru. Everything was about me, Iris, and Professor Nanami. And don’t even think about anything innocent,” you added with a mischievous smile.

Satoru grimaced. “Oh God, no, the thought of my girls having sex with that bastard makes me sick.”

“And that doesn’t concern us, Sato. No matter how much you deny it, you do have a hot friend.”

“Nanami? Absolutely not. The bastard’s face looks like a wrinkled, grumpy, retired soldier.”

You and Iris exchanged glances as if to say, What is this idiot talking about?

“He’s jealous.”

Your best friend nodded in agreement. “Oh he definitely is.”

“Me? Jealous of him? He should be the one jealous of my baby smooth face. And I hate to break it to you girls, but that bastard can’t even flirt. He’s been like that since high school.”

“The fact that even someone who can’t flirt has a wife, and you’re still alone, is pretty funny, though.” You loved teasing Satoru.

“For the record, that’s by choice. If I wanted to get married, I would’ve done it by now. Every woman wants me. But I prefer fleeting pleasures over seriousness.”

“Oh, here we go again.” Iris rolled her eyes and took a sip of her beer.

“Actually, I agree with Sato. Serious relationships are only for losers.”

“Finally, someone who understands me. I love you, troublemaker. Please explain this to my dear niece.”

Iris quickly responded, “Baby, please tell my uncle I’m not interested in his ridiculous ideas.”

“Hey, how many times have I told you not to call me uncle! You’re making me feel old.” He said the last sentence in a mock crying tone.

“Let me think… Hmm, I think you’re old enough for me to call you uncle, Satoru.”

While the two of them continued to bicker, you noticed that the seat next to Satoru was taken. A leather jacket was draped over the back of the chair, a nearly empty beer bottle and Marlboro gold box sat on the table.

Turning to your best friend, you asked, “Hey Iris, you said it was just you and Sato. Did someone else join?”

Iris, who had been facing Satoru, suddenly turned her head towards you as if you wouldn’t like the answer she was about to give. “Oh, yeah, Suguru came right after we talked on the phone.”

Shit. How much worse could this day get?

Suguru Geto. If you made a list of the people you hate most in this world, his name would easily be in the top three. Just as some people fall in love at first sight, your experience with him was hate at first sight.

With his long, dark black hair, broad, muscular, veiny arms, and tattoos covering much of his body, making him look even sexier, he was perhaps one of the best looking things you had ever seen. Just like Satoru, he was annoyingly handsome. But they were nothing alike.

While Satoru was outgoing, Suguru was quiet. Satoru would make fun about anything, while Suguru always maintained his seriousness. They were opposites. But these differences made them an inseparable duo.

Just like you and Iris. You were a ticking time bomb, while your best friend always stayed calm. You were always comfortable around people. It was a bit harder for Iris, but thanks to you, she had started to overcome that.

Even though you and Suguru were often in the same place, you could count the number of times you’d spoken to each other on one hand. It was a matter of preference. No one talks to someone they don’t like. It was the same for you two. You put up with each other for Iris and Satoru.

Just a few hours. I just need to put up with him for a few hours. Then we’ll both be gone, you thought to yourself.

“Are you okay, troublemaker?” Satoru’s words brought your attention back from the empty chair to him.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.”

“You two might not have warmed up to each other yet, but I have a feeling that’s going to change soon.”

“I think that feeling of yours has gone crazy.”

“You don’t know how strong my instincts are, troublemaker.” He winked at you after finishing his sentence.

While the three of you were chatting, you noticed someone sit across from you. When you unwillingly looked at him, you saw that he was already glaring at you as if you were the worst person in this world. His very light brown, almost amber colored eyes roamed your face. When his gaze started to move down, it lingered a bit on the cleavage of your black, long sleeved dress.

“Hey Suguru, where were you? I thought you fell into the toilet? Or were you flirting with someone?” Satoru tried to annoy Suguru with his flirty tone.

Suguru averted his gaze from you and took a cigarette from the pack on the table. He lit it with his Zippo and took a deep drag.

Turning his head towards Satoru, Suguru said, “No. There was just a line.”

“Ohh, I can’t take this seriousness anymore. Even jokes don’t work on you.” Satoru pretended to be disappointed, but then suddenly his chest was struck by a hand. “You son of a bitch. What was that for?”

Suguru took another drag from his cigarette and said, “I told you not to talk about this kind of stuffs in front of the girls.”

“Aww, don’t worry, they’re even more dangerous than us, Suguru.”

As he took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes drifted to Iris. He seemed to be looking at her as if he didn’t want her to think about such things. Come on, how much longer could he protect a girl who was already 20? She were a fucking adult. Of course, she would want to have sex.

No matter how much you tried to keep quiet, Suguru’s behavior was starting to annoy you. There were some things he needed to understand.

“Forget it, Sato. I don’t think anyone wants to hear about Geto’s boring sex life.”

Suguru’s gaze turned to you. His eyes were blazing to you. You definitely needed a cigarette right now. It was the only way to escape this tense atmosphere. You reached into your bag, grabbed your last cigarette from the box, and lit it.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, troublemaker. This big guy hasn’t had sex in a long ti—” Satoru’s words were cut short by the “I’m going to kill you soon” look from his best friend. “Okay. I’m done. I’ll shut up.”You secretly enjoyed it. You wanted to drag him down even further.

After one last drag from his cigarette, Suguru stubbed it out in the ashtray. Iris, trying to ease the tension, started a new topic, “So, will you finally tell us about your date?”

The conversation suddenly turned to you. After a long drag from your cigarette, you replied, “It was terrible in every way. Probably the worst date I’ve ever had.”

“Your aunt really needs to give up on this, baby.”

Agreeing with Iris, you said, “I wish, but now she’s saying it’s time to take a step toward a serious relationship. Who would want to settle down with someone at this age instead of just having fun?”

“Now that, I agree with.” Satoru took a sip of his beer and made a thumbs up gesture to show his approval.

“Maybe you’re just not mature enough for a serious relationship, brat.”

Okay, this was getting really tense.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m saying maybe you’re not at the maturity level to understand the importance of a serious relationship. It seems like all you want is attention, monkey brain.”

You looked at him in disbelief. It wasn’t just you everyone at the table, except Suguru, had the same expression. The jerk was perfectly happy to criticize as if he knew everything.

You, not mature? No, you’d had a serious relationship before. You knew what it had done to you. Being dependent on someone would drain a person. When the other person gets bored, you’d be tossed aside. You had made a promise to yourself. You would never go through that again.

But what would Suguru know about any of this? He wouldn't probably understand to love someone.

Just as you were about to respond to him, Satoru intervened, “I think we need more beer. Sugu, can you help me carry it? Please?” The way he said “please” sounded more like a command.

As Suguru and Sato headed toward the bar, Iris turned to you with concern, “Hey, baby, are you okay? You seemed a bit frozen for a moment.”

Iris didn’t know what you’d been through. No one did. You hadn’t wanted to share. Your past relationship was one of the dark pages you’d buried in history.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that jerk talking like he knows everything that’s getting on my nerves, that’s all.”

“Suguru is like that. If someone provokes him, he retaliates. Sometimes I forget how similar you two are.” Iris wanted you to calm down, but it wasn’t working.

“Please don’t tell me I resemble that jerk. When we first met, I tried to be nice to him, but he pushed me away. We didn’t talk much until tonight either. I thought maybe he preferred to keep his distance from new people. But no, he hates me. He should know that the feeling are mutual!”

Iris stroked your hair, “I think Satoru might be right about; you two will get along soon, sweetie. Trust me, the real Suguru is the best person you could ever meet.”

You knew how much Iris loved Suguru. She always talked about how devoted he was to the people he cared about, how he’d do anything for them. And she was right. Suguru loved those two more than anything. But Iris was different for him. He protected her as if she were his own sister. Even hearing her talk about anything made him happy. His eyes would fill with affection. Although you sometimes envied the bond between the three of them, you had your aunt. She was the one who had saved you from your shitty parents. She was someone who would make any sacrifice. Still, you had raised yourself. You didn’t want to weigh on anyone.

Satoru’s cheerful voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “Hey, we’re back. And we got plenty of beer.”

You took a cold sip of the beer you’d received and tried to forget the earlier incident.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The night went on without any more mishaps, and you had fun until the early hours. By the time you decided to leave, it was around 1 a.m. Since Satoru and Iris lived together, they were going home together. Their place was nearby.

Iris had gone to the restroom before leaving. The three of you were walking toward the exit. As you opened the door, the cold air hit you again. You cursed yourself for going out without your coat. Then you felt something being placed on your shoulders.

Suguru had taken off his leather jacket and put it on your shoulders.

“Put it on. You’ll get sick.”

You were so surprised by his gesture that you couldn’t even move.

“You’re really a monkey brain aren't you? Who goes out in this weather without wearing their coat? Hurry up and put on the jacket.” There was zero humor in his voice. He wasn’t asking; it was as if he was threatening to punish you if you didn’t wear it.

Once your arms were inside the jacket, you felt a bit warmer.

“Thanks.” That was all you could manage to say. He didn’t reply and continued fiddling with his phone. At that moment, you noticed the large tattoo on his hand.

It was a phoenix pierced by three arrows, its head bowed down. You wondered what those arrows symbolized. The burdens the bird carried?

He had probably designed that tattoo himself. Suguru Geto was one of Japan’s most talented tattoo artists. He never worked with other people’s designs; that was his principle. He’d ask his clients what they wanted and then create something amazing with his imagination. He thought of every tiny detail. Maybe that’s why he was one of the best.

What did it feel like to be as talented as him, you wondered. Your mind drifted to the drawings you did as a hobby. You thought drawing your feelings provided some relief. Maybe one day you could share them with others. But a voice inside you told you that no one would care.

Just as you were about to ask Suguru about his tattoo, the door opened again. Suguru shifted his eyes from his phone to Iris.

Satoru was on the phone in the corner. When he saw Iris, he told the person on the other end that he had to go and came over to join you.

“Troublemaker, do you want us to give you a ride?”

“No need. I’ll find a taxi.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you won’t find one at this hou—”

“I’ll take her. You guys go.”

What the hell was happening? This made twice now. Was Suguru Geto actually doing you a favor? You figured the cold must have frozen your brain, and it wasn’t working anymore.

“Alright then. Hey, troublemaker, be careful, and text me as soon as you get home. Suguru, don’t leave until she gets inside, and let me know when she’s safe.” Satoru hugged you tightly.

“You don’t need to give me advice, Satoru.” Suguru said it seriously.

“Take care, Sugu,” Iris spoke in a loving tone and embraced him with the same warmth.

“Don’t worry, angel.”

Your best friend then turned to you and hugged you tightly. “See you at school, baby, love you.”

“Love you too.”

After saying your goodbyes, you walked towards where Suguru had parked his car. He took out his keys and unlocked the car, and you were relieved to finally be somewhere warm.

As you buckled your seatbelt, you asked, “Do you want me to type in my address—”

“I already know it.” He answered in a monotonous voice. You wondered how he knew. Maybe Satoru had told him, or Iris.

There was an awkward silence during the drive. What could you even talk about? When you open your mouth, you two immediately start arguing. Still, you wanted to take the risk and speak.

“I thought you’d come on your motorcycle.” He usually went everywhere on his motorcycle. Damn, he looked so good on it, like it was made for him.

He glanced at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “It’s currently under repair.”

“Oh, okay. Got it.”

And that was it. At least you’d managed to have a few words. After a 20 minute drive, you arrived at your place. You were about to take off his jacket and return it, but when he said, “Give it back later,” you didn’t know what to do. You thought about insisting, but he’d probably just tell you to shut up. Jerk. “Alright. Thanks. For the jacket and the ride.”

You couldn’t believe you were thanking Suguru. Even after all the things he’d said to you. Just as you were about to open the door and step out, he spoke again.

“Listen up, brat. Iris really cares about you. I don't know why or how, but.. l'm putting up with you because I value her. Do you understand? Think carefully before you respond to me again. Otherwise, I know how to make that little mouth of yours shut.”

WTF?

“Do you think I really care about you? I'm trying to get along with you only for Satoru and Iris. Otherwise, I'd know exactly how to make you shut that big mouth of yours.”

He laughed as if he didn't care about what you said. Every move he made irritated you more.

“l'm glad to hear that our feelings are mutual, monkey brain.”

“You're a piece of shit, Geto.” You rolled your eyes and opened the door. As you started walking away, you heard him call out to you again. When you looked back, you saw him through the window of the front seat. “One more thing, kid. You can fool others into thinking you're a good girl with the dress you're wearing right now. But we both know the truth: you could never be that kind of girl. Sweet dreams, monkey brain.”

His mocking tone was enough to make your anger boil over. You approached the front seat door. To see Suguru's face, you leaned in to see better, and for a few seconds, his eyes settled on the cleavage of your dress. “I don't dress for anyone. I don't care about impressing others or creating a different image. If I want attention, I get it effortlessly. And if you liked my dress so much which I think you did since your eyes were wandering over my body and cleavage of my dress while you were talking to me, you could have nicely told me that it looked good on you.” As you were about to leave, you added, “Oh, one last thing. You can be sure l've never been a good girl, Suguru. Sweet dreams.” You gave him a confident smile, turned your back on the car, and walked towards the apartment. When you took out your keys and started to open the door, you looked back and saw the car still there. A small smile reappeared on your face.

As soon as you stepped into your home, you took off your heels. You felt immensely relieved. After placing your keys and bag on the counter in the entryway, you walked to the living room. You thought about tidying up, but you didn't have the energy for anything more today. You slumped onto the L-shaped couch, leaned back, and closed your eyes, trying to process the events of the day. When you opened your eyes again, you saw the sketches you had drawn in the morning. You crumpled the papers in frustration and threw them across the room. You thought they were useless.

Before heading to your room, you took off the jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the front door. The masculine, spicy scent that came from it made your head spin. Damn, you couldn't let his scent affect you. When you got to your room, you undressed, leaving only your underwear on. You grabbed a long, loose t-shirt from your closet and put it on. You needed a shower, but you had no more energy left. Realizing you had forgotten to let Satoru know you were home, you grabbed your phone from the bag you left on the counter by the entryway and sent a short message.

You: I'm home:)

A reply came within 2 seconds.

Handsome Egoist Chef: Yes, I know. Sugu told me. Good night, troublemaker 💙

He acted like it was so important to know what you were doing. You thought he was doing it for Satoru, not for you. When you returned to your bed, you finally felt relieved. But Suguru and his words came back to your mind.

“Maybe you’re just not mature enough for a serious relationship?”

Damn. Why couldn't you get that jerk out of your head? You closed your eyes, trying to push him out of your thoughts. But the scent lingering from his jacket in your hair wouldn't let you. You brought a few strands of hair to your nose.

You felt strange tingles lower in your body. For just a moment, you imagined him coming in and out of you with all his strength while burying his head in your neck. Would you still get that scent?

Shit. Why were you thinking about this? You let go of the hair strands and cursed yourself. You couldn't imagine having sex with the person you hated most. It was disgusting.

“God, I guess I really haven't had sex in a long time.” After saying it out loud, youeagerly awaited falling asleep.

➵ taglist: @miakxn @sukunadckrider @mooncalvin @kailivi

@lilacbunnygirl don’t copy and translate my story

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Of All the Gin Joints

Week #17 Prompt: "I can't believe you!" | Word Count: 1938 | Rating: T | POV: Nancy | Characters: Nancy, Robin, Steve, Eddie | Relationships: Ronance, Steddie, Past Mentions of Stancy, Fruity Four | CW: Language, Alcohol Consumption | Tags: Future Fic, Bisexual Nancy Wheeler, Old Friends, And Maybe New Love, Getting Together, First Kiss

Nancy lets her eyes adjust to the darkness and flashing lights of the club. It's not exactly her comfort zone. But she watches as the men, and the women, move to the beat of the music that's bouncing the speakers, thumping so hard she can feel it in her chest. 

She's never been anywhere like this, not really. It's not exactly her scene, never has been. 

So, she finds a spot to stand in the corner, leaving a buffer, so she can take it all in. She always needs to study first, she never just dives face-first into anything. Unless it's an emergency. And this? Not an emergency.

This is just an unknown, an exploration of her sexuality that might be coming later than most. She thinks she should have done this sooner. Maybe not the club part, but the acting on her interest in women. But she didn't. Not the women, and definitely not the club, so now she'd like to know more before deciding to be all in on being a club-going person, especially at her age. 

Watching, it's clear that everyone seems to be having a really fucking good time, and aren't paying any attention to her clinging to the shadows, like a wallflower.

She's about to maybe make a move more towards the center of the action, when she catches a glimpse of a familiar smile, and she steps to the side to see better, to clear her sightline, to really make sure. And, yes, it is Robin, bouncing, laughing, dancing with a guy, seemingly having a hell of a good time. 

It's not Steve, this guy is far too short, and it isn't until he turns that she realizes it's Gareth. He's just chopped off all his curls, which she thinks is kind of a shame.

But, beyond that, she knows if Gareth's here, that means Eddie's here, and if Eddie's here, well...there he is. Steve Harrington, bouncing, hair flying, looking twenty instead of over forty. 

Looking free.

And happy. Really, really happy.

She hasn't seen any of them in person in years, only recently watching from afar on the new Facebook thing that she was bullied into joining by Dustin. She's not too mad about it, since it means she gets to see pictures of all her old friends, and gets to know that they're doing okay out in the world, living their lives. At least when she remembers to login and check.

Nancy hasn't decided if she's going to approach them or not. This is new to her, and while she knows they'd be supportive and fun and totally in her corner, she was really only looking to dip her toes in, not plunge headfirst.

But she doesn't get to decide, because Robin's caught sight of her and is waving frantically, with an enthusiasm only Robin can muster. She's missed her, she realizes. Missed all of them.

She sees Robin turn and yell in the other direction, hands flailing, nearly hitting those around her.

She hasn't changed a bit. 

So, Nancy waves back, and heads her way. She's kind of glad the decision was made for her. It's easier that way, and she gets to see Robin.

When Nancy approaches, Steve is suddenly there, picking her up and swinging her around so hard, she feels her back pop. She's not sixteen, not anymore, but he doesn't seem to have gotten that message as he squeezes her against him, before finally putting her back on her feet but still doesn't let go.

"I can't believe you! You're here!" Steve says, smiling wide and so fucking happy. 

He's glowing. 

There's a ring through his eyebrow, and tattoos crawling up his arm, and yet, he looks exactly the same, somehow. Just really, really happy and all grown up.

It's a good look on him. Honestly.

He giggles, squeezing both of her arms, "Nancy Wheeler."

She almost corrects him, but it is Wheeler again. Her divorce was finalized and she took her own name back, and she doesn't expect she'll ever give it up again. It's who she is, and she kind of hates that she ever forgot that. 

"Where's Eddie?" Nancy asks, leaning towards Steve's ear, trying to be heard over the music.

"The bar!" Steve screams back, and she looks that way, expecting to see him in line for drinks, but he's behind the bar. Putting on a show, as always.

It's a little mesmerizing. But Eddie Munson always was, for better or worse. He had an unique skill for capturing an audience and refusing to let them go.

Steve wraps his arms around her neck from behind, forcing her to walk in front of him, leading her right towards Eddie.

"Look who I found!" Steve shouts and Eddie grins, leaning up on and over the bar to cup her cheek, kissing the other one.

"Hey, Wheeler. What can I get you?" Eddie asks, waving his arm down the bar in a sweeping fashion.

She isn't sure, so she lets him pick, and he gets to work, sliding and twirling, dragging the bottle upwards as he pours, and she grins. He was made for this, she's pretty sure. Putting a show, holding an audience.

She hadn't realized he was a bartender, but she crawls up on an open bar stool, to watch him work. She expects that Steve will sit down next to her, but instead he walks around behind the bar, and kisses Eddie before he makes himself a drink. It's not as impressive as watching Eddie do it, but it's definitely not Steve's first time behind a bottle either, that's for sure. 

"Do you own this bar?" she yells, and they both nod.

Of all the gin joints in all the world, she happened to stumble into theirs.

It really is a small world after all. 

She hadn't heard they'd bought a bar. She must be more behind on that Facebook thing than she thought. Or they've owned longer than Facebook has been a thing, and it was old news she'd just missed out on hearing. She'll have to ask Dustin, or Mike. Get filled in on what they know.

"It's great!" she screams back, and it is. It's a little loud, a little overwhelming, but it seems like a really fun atmosphere. 

They both smile, and Steve is holding his own drink, and Eddie leans over putting the finishing touches on it. Then Steve's back across the bar, sitting next to her.

"You're here by accident?" Steve shouts to be heard, and she nods. She heard about the queer friendly bar, that wasn't really a club exclusively for young people, and it looked like something she might want to check out, now that she's open to exploring that side of herself.

She should have known she'd be drawn right to Steve, the only other bisexual person she really knows. That's just how these things work with them. There are no accidents. They've all been tied together for a long, long time, even as they've drifted and lived their own, separate lives.

They try to talk over the music, but it's impossible, and Steve takes her by the hand and leads her behind the bar, and into an office. He closes the door, and the sound is suddenly gone. Silenced. 

"Soundproofed?" she asks, sitting down on the couch.

Steve nods, "I still get headaches sometimes. It gives me a place to go to get away from the noise if I need to, without having to go all the way home."

"Smart. That's smart," she says, looking around. There are pictures lining the walls, filled with tons of familiar faces.

"It was Eddie's idea," Steve says, grinning, "he just wants me to be comfortable."

Then he smiles a different smile, a softer one, "And nearby."

Nancy smiles back at him, happy he's happy.

"He looks good, by the way," Nancy says, "really good. You both do. Robin, too."

Steve just smiles, because he knows that's true. Time has been kind to them, all of them, it seems.

"Gareth should have kept those curls, though," she teases.

"Don't tell him that, it's a sore spot," Steve says with a grin.

"Mum's the word," she promises.

Then the door opens and closes, Robin sliding inside. She bounces up and down, clapping her hands, "Nance! I can't believe you're here!"

Nancy stands up, and hugs her. Robin isn't as awkward as she was at eighteen. But she's still got that funky style that Nancy's always been a little jealous of, if she's totally honest. That innate ability to just be herself.

Steve is standing there smiling, and then says, "I'll let Robin show you around and catch you up. Eddie'll cry around if I skip out on helping him."

Nancy knows that's not true. Eddie Munson worships the ground Steve Harrington walks on, and has since 1986. At first it felt like Nancy was losing something that she might want again someday, and wanted to bristle up at Eddie. Claim her territory. 

But she quickly saw how Steve looked back at Eddie. She knew that look, and well, and she was happy for him, even if it was kind of hard to let that door close for good.

By the time they all went their separate ways, it was pretty obvious Steve and Eddie were in it for the long haul, and probably would always be. 

And here they are, still together, and they still look fucking happy.

She's not surprised one bit.

And good for them. She isn't sure what it would be like to pick right the first time. She's picked wrong twice now, and she's not excited to do it again.

Women. She might try women for a while. Forget all about men for a stretch and see how that feels, how it goes.

Robin is sitting next to her, and as soon as the door closes behind Steve, leaving them in quiet again, Robin's asking a million questions.

Always curious, Robin.

Nancy answers them. Mike's good. Three kids that act just like he did, which he definitely had coming. 

Robin catches her up on everybody she's still close with that Nancy hasn't seen in a while, and it's nice. Comfortable, like no time has passed.

"You want another drink? Dance? Some food? Anything?" Robin offers.

"Yes," Nancy says, and hell, she thinks she might want it all.

Another couple drinks in, they are bouncing around the dance floor as much as their middle-aged knees will allow, when Nancy reaches forward to brace herself against Robin's hip.

She didn't mean anything by it, but the sudden shift on Robin's face is telling another story. 

Oh shit.

Okay, yeah. That. 

She steps forward, and Robin meets her halfway. Lips pressing against hers in a way that she only barely let herself think about, in a time gone by. The curiosity was there, down deep, back when they were just getting close. But Nancy didn't know how to define it, how to understand it within herself.

She does now.

Robin's hand slides up her back, pressing between her shoulder blades, as she kisses her in a way Nancy's never been kissed. Not by anyone, maybe. 

She should have known. She should have realized that this is what she was looking for, missing, late to understanding.

When Robin pulls back, she smiles, and Nancy smiles back, her heart beating hard against her chest. 

She wants to do it again. 

So she does, leaning up, pressing her lips to Robin's one more time, eager to see where this can go from here.

Hopeful, and excited.

Ready.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[celestialtarot11]

Astro Observations <3

My best friend has Gemini over her 12th house, and I’m a Gemini Venus. I always said to her that her spirit guides know me, and in fact they talk to me to get messages to her. It makes sense given our shared 12th house placement. She has Saturn over her 12th house and found it difficult to communicate with the spirit realm. But through me, it’s like I’m the gateway to her receiving the messages she needs to hear. Straight up, spirit talks through me like a normal person. Our connections runs deep and its easy for us to communicate spiritually. Likewise, she has dreams that are related to me and she gives me warnings of anything I need to know :)

Having sun in the 10th house composite of a relationship, the breakup/ending/issues can be public against the couples will. Be careful, people will want to leak personal information to the public even if they aren’t meant to do so. Also, major power couple vibes. People strive to copy this couple and may send evil eye their way. This couple embodies Pinterest 😤 a walking pinterest board

Pluto in the 10th and having an emotional reactive father figure. Hi 🤗✨ and then equally arguing with their father if the native has fire/earth placements. Ya’ll got facts to spit ☕️ but also thats because you guys hold in everything you want to say, so at some point it bubbles out.

Pluto in the 4th house and having an emotionally turbulent mother. Hi :) maybe she was diagnosed with BPD as well. Any moon-Pluto aspect can indicate the mother having BPD, or narcissistic tendencies.

Jupiter in Leo women will not settle for less than they deserve. They are fierce in what they want in a partner.

Jupiter in virgo indicates marrying a spiritual partner. Someone who will share spiritual awakenings with you.

Virgo’s tend to grow spiritually as they get older, and they are great at manifesting abundance/ spiritual help. They have a whole team of ancestors by their side 😤 the type to call on their ancestors after someone drops a petty comment

Also, women with jupiter in virgo are incredibly detailed when it comes to their partner and who they will date. They want a partner who will represent them, not just anyone. Even with males this can be true. Women with jupiter in virgo knows they worked hard to get to where they are at, so they want a partner who will be on their level. They know that their partner is a reflection of their healing. A reflection of them as a whole. So just like jupiter in leo, jupiter in virgo women will not settle for less than they deserve

P.S Jupiter in virgo women come up with the most funniest roasts for men they don’t like 🤡💅🏻 they’re real quick and sassy with it & blunt. Same with Jupiter in leo women.

Gemini venus, when ya’ll get your nails done just KNOW abundance is coming your way. Caring for your hands/using them to create/ scripting with them is how you manifest. You don’t absolutely need to get your nails done if you’re not a baddie like that (and thats fine ☺️) you’re still a baddie using your words to make anything come true. If you have a taurus degree on your venus, buying necklaces, rings, will also attract abundance to you 💅🏻 even getting a tattoo on your neck/hands can help greatly

Thank ya’ll so much for reading, hope you guys found it resonated and found it funny ☺️💗 its meant to be a great time reading these posts but also informative! I appreciate all the support send my way 🌀✨☕️

Book a reading with me here 🤍