#just let me book my own fucking tickets.

[supercantaloupe]

my group just tried to make me completely skip passport control and baggage claim too which would mean leaving my fucking luggage in Madrid. lol. Lmao

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

A/N: And another one-shot with my precious Logan. This has angst and some fluff. Enjoy!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant! female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff

Words: 3700+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

It was a wild, exhausting day. Well, more like five days. The last time I visited my parents was almost a year ago. They knew nothing about my new life, only the lies I told them.  That’s why I didn’t have time to see them as often as they wanted to. 

I missed them. That’s why I came back. I thought my short vacation with them in my home town would be without incidents and fights. Oh how wrong I was. 

It was eleven in the evening. I was sitting on the front porch, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. The night was cold. Autumn hit with full force. I wished I could return to the place where I felt more at home. Unfortunately, the school was over four hours drive away from my hometown. 

I had my phone in my hands, contemplating whether to call the person who could make me smile or not. My eyes were on the contact name, and I was not sure whether to press the button or forget about it and head back to bed. It was too late for a phone call even when I knew he’d be up. After a couple of deep breaths, I decided to tap the screen and call my boyfriend Logan. 

<< Hey baby. 

Hearing his voice made me smile. Logan picked up the call quickly. “Hi. I hope I didn’t wake you up.” 

<< No, of course not. I’m reading that book you got me before you left. Damn, good choice, baby. 

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s that good? Glad you like it. Maybe I’ll get you to read more. Even if they are historical memoirs or anything that has to do with history. We could start our own club, just the two of us.” I heard him laugh. Quickly, he changed the topic.

<< So, how’s the visit going? Everything good? 

I sighed, not knowing what to say to him. I didn’t want to complain. I already told him something about my parents - how they treat me even when they care about me. My relationship with my family was complicated. “It’s okay,” I said simply. “It’s okay. Really, okay.”

<< One more and I’ll believe ya.

“It is what it is. I always believe it’ll be better and it’s not,” I admitted. “Only two more days and I’ll head to the mansion. I have the bus tickets and everything planned to get back.” 

<< What happened, darlin’? You know you can talk to me.

“I know,” I kept shaking my head, nodding to no one. “I just don’t want to complain. I hate complaining. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” 

<< I get that you hate it. But maybe it’s time you did complain a little. I am here for you, darlin’. I’ll listen and we can talk about it. I don’t want you to feel miserable. Just… can’t believe you decided to visit them when they treat you like shit. 

He was right. They always treated me like shit. As an only child, I was the black sheep of the family. Or they saw me as one. My parents didn’t mind ridiculing me in front of our other relatives or their friends. Even as an adult, they continued to do this to me. I was dumb enough to let them. 

<< Tell me what happened, Y/N.

“We visited my relatives, my father’s sister, and they all ganged up on me,” I said. My voice was low. I whispered most of the time, not to wake anyone up. 

I didn’t trust anyone from my family. They didn’t know I was a mutant, where I was working or that I saved the day multiple times since becoming an X-man. They lost my trust the moment they decided to invade my privacy as a teen and snoop around my messages, diaries and stuff. It wasn’t just that. I was ridiculed for liking books, and for being too excited about the little things in life. My taste for music was weird and laughable. My lack of interest in boys was concerning. It was a whole story. 

“My friend and I wanted to go to a concert in a few months. I got excited someone wanted to attend with me - no, baby, you don’t listen to that kind of music -  and they decided to make me feel miserable for my excitement,” I explained. 

<< Darlin’, why do you always let them do this to you? 

“Because I am dumb,” I rolled my eyes. “Because I hate fights and any type of quarrels. I don’t like conflicts.” 

Logan knew I never mentioned to my family that I was seeing someone. I wasn’t ashamed of the relationship - the opposite, honestly. My family didn’t deserve to know anything about me. 

<< I think it’s time you cut contact with them. I know it sounds horrible when I say it. As If I tried to influence you in some way. Just, fuck, I hate when they make you miserable. Baby, to me, it seems like they don’t care and don’t give a shit about your well-being. 

I knew he was right. And yet, I was afraid to do that step. “They are my parents-”

<<Whom treat you like shit, Y/N. I am so fucking angry at them. I should have come with you. I’d be there to teach them a fucking lesson about respecting the woman I love. 

Those words made me smile. Never in my life have I had someone to defend me like Logan would. The grump, my grump, was there for me when no one was. He was mine for over a year now. 

“You love me, yay,” I said happily. 

<< Baby, you know damn well I love you. I should have been there tonight. I should have been there to let them know how shitty they are. 

I hummed. “That’s okay. I know you’d defend my honour. And I love you for that. I need to survive two more days before I head back to school. The bus drive will be the best thing from this trip.” 

<< The school is your home. So, come back home. Change the bus tickets and leave. I want you here with me, darlin’. 

“No,” I shook my head. “That would be rude. I need to toughen up and survive these last two days. Afterwards, I’m done. Besides, I don’t have a good emergency story.” 

<< You don’t need one. 

“Logan, come on,” I sighed. “I’ll be back in two days. I miss you. Can’t wait to be with you. I’m staying.”

<< Miss you too, darlin’. Two fucking days.

I had to laugh. He was cute and he didn’t know that. After that, we ended the call. I remained sitting on the porch swing, looking at the silent street. Everyone was asleep. The whole neighbourhood calmed down as their residents rested for the night. 

The air got colder, so I moved from the porch, back to my old room and headed to bed. What if I was exaggerating the problem with my parents? What if it was me creating conflict when there wasn’t any? With a heavy sigh, I went to bed. 

The next day was a chaos. Around lunch, my father’s aunt and her family came to the house. “Didn’t your mother tell you? We’ll have lunch together and we wanted to be with you some more before you leave again,” my aunt chuckled at her words. 

“Great,” I said, but I wasn’t thrilled at all.

Her kids were loud, spoilt brats. They’d let them do anything they wanted. It pissed me off. I knew they were my cousins. Unfortunately. As much as I wanted to teach them a lesson and tell them no, their mother would always allow everything. 

Both boys were running around the house, screaming and throwing toys around. To calm them down, they got tablets to do whatever they wanted -  a movie, a game? Why not both? 

Logan was right. I should have left. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day with them. And with lunch approaching, I knew it would be a stressful one. All the yelling, the bitching and moaning…

We were about to head to the dining table when we heard the doorbell ring once the food was ready to be served. “I’ll get it,” I said. I was the closest to them. 

As I walked to the door, I put my hair in a messy bun, to keep them away when I’d eat. I expected to see a neighbour or another family member that I wasn’t interested in seeing. When I opened the door, I gasped.

“Hey, darlin’.” 

Logan was leaning against the doorframe. He had black sunglasses on his face, dressed in those damn jeans and a green-blue flannel shirt. A brown leather jacket was resting on his shoulders. Dressed to kill… me. Fuck. He looked hot.

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” My eyes widened, lips twitched because they wanted to curl into a smile. I grabbed him by the leather jacket to pull myself closer to him. He smelled like cigars and nice minty body spray. 

“I came to rescue my princess from this hellhole,” he said, voice firm and serious. 

I coughed. “What? Baby, we’re having an unexpected family lunch,” I made a face. “Holy shit, I can’t believe you are here,” I hummed with a smile. “Wait, did you ask Charles to help you get here? You went through my file!” 

“I needed to get here somehow,” said Logan innocently. “And it seems I am on time for lunch. I am starving.”

My mouth dropped to the floor when I heard him say that. I wanted to say something, anything. Unluckily, my mother decided to make herself present by approaching us. “Oh, hello, is everything okay?” she asked us. 

Logan put down his glasses and grinned at my mother. “I came to see your daughter.” 

“Oh?” 

I looked up at the ceiling, cursing mentally. I felt stress crawl up my back. Not because Logan decided to show up. It was my mother’s subtle reactions. How her brows rose, how I could sense the tension in her body. Or was it thrill?

“This… is… Logan,” I lazily turned to my mother. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

“You have a boyfriend?!” she squealed. “And you didn’t tell us?” It seemed she was offended. “You never tell us anything! Ah! This is a big deal. Oh my god!”

Deep breath in and slow exhale. I did it multiple times. Immediately, Logan approached me as I tried to calm myself down. He rested his hand on my lower back. 

One last deep breath. “Uh, we’ll be right there. I need to talk to Logan for a moment, okay?” 

My mother nodded, grinning like a maniac. She clapped her hands and ran back to the dining room. I knew she would let her mouth run wild and comment on what she saw. Lunch was about to turn into a nightmare. 

“You okay, baby?” Logan asked me gently. 

I pushed him outside and closed the door behind us. I was panicking a little. “This day is crazy,” I mumbled. “Oh my god.” I panicked a little. 

As I got closer to Logan, he wrapped his arms around my body, pressing me to his chest. “Everything will be fine,” he assured me. “You angry at me?” 

“No,” I said. “Quite the opposite. I’m glad you are here,” I inhaled his scent which helped me calm down a bit. “Fuck, you are like a gift from heaven. I should have listened to you and headed back to school. I’ve been receiving shit since the very morning. And now, my aunt and her family are here and… I want to run away.” 

He pressed a kiss on top of my head. “So, let’s go. Fuck them,” he said. “I’ll get your stuff and we are out of here.” 

“It’s not that easy,” I sighed. 

He growled, thinking. “Okay, listen to me,” he pushed me enough to look into my face. “Here’s the deal. One shit, one stupid thing from them, we are out. I don’t give a shit they are your family. They will not disrespect you. I won’t allow that.” 

I didn’t have the chance to say something. Logan took my hand and led me back into the house. He trusted his instinct which led him to a room filled with my family members. The moment we stepped into the dining room, all eyes were on us. 

First came the introductions. My father tried to be intimidating. My uncle used his dumb intelligent humour to impress Logan. Neither of us found it funny. My aunt was too touchy. I wanted to step on her foot for that. My cousins didn’t give a shit. They were interested in their mobile games. 

“How long have you been together?” 

It was the first of many questions. Logan and I sat next to each other. My mother brought a plate for him. One of his hands found my thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s been over a year now,” he said, voice low and gruff. 

“Where did you meet?” my aunt asked. 

“At work,” I said quickly. “We work in the same building.” 

“Really?” My father didn’t believe that. “He doesn’t look like someone who would work in a big corporate company.”

“Dad!” I glared at him. 

No one knew what I was, what was my real job. I told them a story about my life in New York, working for a big company. For them, I was the daughter who moved to New York. I wasn’t the mutant, the whiny girl they used to call me. Of course, Logan knew it all.

My aunt eyed Logan once more. “They take you seriously with that hair?” she asked him. 

My eyes almost popped out of my head. I couldn’t believe she dared to say it. “Excuse me?” was all I got out of my mouth.

And it got worse. 

“We always believed our Y/N would move to Europe and live her life there. Empty promises how she’d become a writer, leave the country and live a better life,” my mother laughed. “We believed she would be the one to leave the county and do great things. And here we are.” 

“Still can’t believe she didn’t settle down. But what do you want from someone who’s not fond of kids? She always hated kids, so be prepared she wouldn’t want a family with you,” said my aunt. 

“She never went to college. She lied to us about applying, her interest in decusation.” 

“Always complaining and crying.” 

“She was a sensible child.”

“She suffered from depression and anxiety.”

Logan smashed a hand against the table. All the plates and cutlery rang. I closed my eyes, ready to release my last breath from all the humiliation. My family went rampage - saying shit that even they knew was not true. But here we were. 

“Everyone shut your goddamn mouths,” he snarled, slowly rising from the table. “She is your goddamn daughter and you’ve been treating her like shit the moment I sat behind this damn table. How the fuck do you think you make her feel?” 

“Language!” my aunt glared at him. “Children are present.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your two spoilt bastards,” Logan glared at her. “You can’t even make them put the damn tablets down while eating.”

“Who do you think you are?” my mother asked. She was offended by Logan’s behaviour. 

“I am the guy who needs to put you in your fucking place. You do not respect your daughter and you keep humiliating her in front of me. Instead of saying something nice, something positive, you’ve been running your mouth off with a lot of bullshit and I am sick of it.” 

Logan grabbed me by my arm and helped me get up. I barely listened to a word they all said. My mind was spiralling. I felt like the biggest loser, the black sheep of the family. Someone who shouldn’t be born.

“Don’t you fucking dare say one more word about her,” Logan spat at them. “Or I swear, I will make your lives miserable. She’s the most amazing woman in this godforsaken world. She means the world to me. She’s the definition of goodness, kindness and love. And fuck, I don’t deserve her. But I will defend her and show her how worthy of love she is because it seems you never loved her in the first place!” 

Silence. Everyone was glaring at Logan, shocked by the words he said. As if they all forget how to speak. 

“Y/N? How can you be with this rude man?” 

“Rude?” I raised a brow. “You’ve been rude to me the whole week I was here. Logan defended me when no one else did. Even I couldn’t stand up for myself and send you to hell and back! You are the rude here, not him.” 

“That’s not true,” my uncle chimed in.

I got up from the table. “I’m gonna go pack and we’ll be on our way.” 

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” said Logan, quickly pressing a kiss to my temple as I walked by him. 

The packing took me less than five minutes. I threw everything into my suitcase. I made sure I had my documents. The moment I got downstairs with my belongings, my mother was the first by my side. 

“You can’t be serious,” she said. 

“I am.”

“And with that man?”

I stopped and glared at her. My feelings were battling inside of me. I wanted to scream, shout nasty words and throw a tantrum like a child would. However, I would never do that. I hated conflicts. I hated this moment.

“Bye, Mother,” I said and left the house. 

Once I stepped out of the house I grew up in, I felt relief and grief. A chapter, that was supposed to end sooner, finally closed. It was not a happy ending, but it had to happen to move on. Without Logan’s help, I wouldn’t be able to do that. Thank god he came here so unexpectedly. He got my back.

Logan was leaning against the car, cigar in his mouth. When I approached him, he took my suitcase and put it inside the car. 

“Thanks,” I whispered. 

I ended up in his tight embrace. The cigar long forgotten. He had to put it off on his hand. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get going.” 

“Take me home,” I said with a broken voice. 

“Home?” I knew he was smiling when he said that.

“Yes,” I nodded. “ Like you said - the X-mansion is my home. You are my home. Not this, not here.” 

Logan lifted my head by pressing a finger under my chin. Our eyes met. “I’m sorry they never treated you right. I’m sorry they saw you as something damaged, broken, now worthy of their time” He took a deep breath. “I’ll do everything to show you, that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You…” Logan sighed. “You are the love of my life.” 

“Logan,” I gasped. We told each other many times the three beautiful words. This was something new, deep. It was an undiscovered territory that didn’t feel intimidating. 

His lips found mine in a simple kiss. I tasted the cigars and the coke he had during unfinished lunch. It was perfect. Like a definition of our relationship. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.” 

[strang3lov3]

Invisible Line

Summary- Boundary after boundary is crossed when your boss is left with no choice but to share his bed with you.

Roman Roy x F!Reader | 5.8k words

Tags- one bed trope mothafuckas!! mutual masturbation, unprotected piv, cream pie, oral (f receiving), come eating, dirty talk, soft dom!roman, power imbalance, needy and desperate reader, light degradation, manipulative Roman, Roman’s not the nicest but he does let you snuggle him

A/N- This is my first Roman Roy fic, so please be gentle 🫣 I know he’s got his issues with sex, so just play pretend with me. My usual Joel readers, I haven’t forgotten about you, he’s cumming soon 🫡🍆 but if you were feeling so inclined I’d appreciate it if you gave Roman a chance 🥺🩷

I had a fucking team of editors for this fic!! Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal, @papipascalispunk, @beefrobeefcal and @pinkypromisepascal for polishing this baby up

Fic notifs, Masterlist, Ko-Fi

You’ll never get used to the type of hotels you now stay in. All the lights glittering, floors shining, ceilings so high. You’d call it luxurious, but to your boss, Roman, this is considered modest. You’re always reminded that you and he come from two very different worlds.

As his assistant, you’re accompanying him on his “bullshit amusement park safety meeting in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere,” as Roman had so graciously put it. He’s got such a way with words. He’s exaggerating of course, always so hyperbolic. You’re not in the middle of nowhere, you’re in Nashville, Tennessee. It’s early June and the air is finally beginning to cool for the evening.

“We’re fully booked,” the receptionist says to you after first explaining that no, there’s no mix up of sorts, you had only booked one room and not two adjoining rooms like you’d thought. 

Just fifteen minutes earlier, you helped Roman with his bags and such up to his room. Roman carried the heaviest of his own bags to be a gentleman, call it his soft spot for you or whatever, but just to be a dick, still had you carry his briefcase that he was more than capable of carrying on his own. It is your job, after all. 

When you arrived with him to the spacious room, decorated with abstract wall art and odd sculptures, Roman wasted no time in flopping on the single king sized bed. After seeing no door to connect to an adjoining room, Roman sent you back to reception. ���Well, better figure it out,” he said, waving you away, his eyes never once looking away from his phone screen. “I’m set here, so thanks. You can go fuck off. Have a nice evening and all that. Enjoy masturbating in your crispy white bed sheets, courtesy of Hyatt hospitality.” Always so vulgar. You’re not shocked by it anymore. 

“Nothing?” you ask the receptionist. “There’s no way. I just need a single queen, I don’t care what floor it’s on. Isn’t there something?”

“Bonnaroo,” the receptionist explains, once more typing on her keyboard to double check and see if there’s a room for you. “Yeah, I’m sorry, we don’t have any other rooms available. Bonnaroo weekend is always when we’re busiest. People book months in advance. I wish I could help you,” she frowns apologetically. 

You’re not upset. It’s your own fault. And you’d seen Bonnaroo posters around the lobby advertising the shuttle that transports people from the hotel to the festival. And you’d seen the headliners, too. Radiohead, Red Hot Chili Peppers, LCD Soundsystem. Friday and Saturday tickets are sold out. You’re not surprised it’s all booked.

“No, I know,” you reply. “It’s my fault.”

You sigh deeply, and the receptionist types into her computer, prints a piece of paper and hands it to you. “This is a list of hotels nearby. Call around, they might have something.” She wishes you good luck, and you pull out your phone to begin making the calls, only then realizing your battery is at 2%. Now you have nowhere to go but back to Roman’s room.

–

You knock on Roman’s door and wait. Nothing. You knock once more, nothing again. You’re about to knock for a third time when Roman finally opens, his shirt a few buttons undone and his belt loosened. “What do you want?”

“Can you let me in?” you ask, “I need to use your phone, please.”

Roman’s taken some getting used to. You never quite know where you stand with him, what exactly he thinks of you. Moment to moment, you never know which Roman you’re gonna get – the flirting Roman, the occasional sweet and tender Roman, or the cold, sarcastic, uncaring and taunting Roman.

 “Can you let me in?” Roman mocks, opening his door wider and guiding you into his room with his hand on your lower back. Taunting Roman. His touch makes your tummy flutter. Something about his unpredictability thrills you, excites you. You’re attracted to it, and you don’t know why. 

Your phone charges by a nearby outlet as you sit at the desk with the room phone as Roman paces around, rifling through his suitcase to find his pajamas. They’re simple looking clothes, pale blue bottoms and a plain white shirt, but you know the cost of the outfit is equivalent to someone’s rent. He changes in front of you, something he’s always done. You’re not exactly sure why he does that or what he’s trying to do, but you do your best to not steal any glimpses of him as you begin calling the numbers on the paper, though the task proves to be difficult. Flirting Roman?

The first hotel on your list is The Hermitage, which is a bust. The Joseph is also a bust. Conrad Nashville, same deal. You’re keeping your voice as low as possible, hoping Roman doesn’t overhear your conversation. The last thing you want to do is give him more ammo. You sigh as you cross out the names on the paper one by one with one of the hotel’s branded pens.

Roman’s on the bed, smirking, rolling his eyes. You can see it in your peripherals. “You fucked up, didn’t you? Forgot to book yourself a room?” 

“Shut up,” you mumble, now calling the fourth and final hotel on your list. 

“You shut up,” Roman says. “Told you to double check.”

You wave a hand in his direction to quiet him. After asking your now three times rehearsed ‘Do you have any rooms available?’ and being met with an apology and a no, you reply to the person on the other end of the call with a “Yup, Bonnaroo, understood. Thank you.” Sighing, you hang up the phone and bury your face in your palms. You know what your only option is here, and you’re scared to look at it, to look at Roman. You know that even if you don’t verbally ask, your eyes will say it all. 

  Roman slides off the bed and makes his way to you, then nudges your foot with his own. “Am I doing you a favor tonight?” 

“I uh…”

“Oh, of course I am. Good thing I’m feeling generous, huh?” Roman’s lips are curled into an almost-sweet smile when you finally look at him. “Bed is mine,” he enunciates. “You can take the floor, I don’t care. Or push those chairs together or some shit.” You look at the chairs he’s referring to and nod. Roman goes back to his bed, and you pull your own set of pajamas from your suitcase, then change in the bathroom. Once out of the bathroom, you push together the chairs that Roman was referring to.

“Oh god, I didn’t think you’d actually do that. No, no, I was just joking – we’ll share the fucking bed. Yeah?” Roman pats the other side of the bed. “I’m not cruel like that, Christ. Making me feel like some fuckin’ sort of - sort of sadist. Not gonna bite you.”

“Won’t you?” you tease. 

That was the wrong thing to say. Your blood goes cold as Roman glares at you, displeased with your teasing. Reminding you of your place, that even though Roman can joke, make however many unsavory comments as he’d like, you can’t always do the same. Cold Roman. But then Roman cracks a smile, flashing his pretty white teeth and winks, his eyes sparkling. The boss-employee dynamic between you and him is always inconsistent, things going from professional to unprofessional, from friendly to friendlier.

He pulls the covers down the bed, once more patting the space next to him, indicating his invitation for you to join him. You round the bed and slide under the covers, the sheets feeling cool against your bare feet and legs. “You’ve got ulterior motives, don’t you? You fucked up the booking on purpose.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed. “No, Roman.”

“You totally did,” Roman says as you adjust the pillows behind you, “You’re trying to entrap me. You’ve weaseled your way into my bed so you can sue me later for harassment or some shit but I’m telling you, it’s not gonna happen. Trust me when I say that it’s in your best interest to behave yourself.” Roman drags his finger down the center of the bed, bisecting it evenly. “Don’t cross this line. Not even your fuckin’…pinky finger. Got it?”

“Understood, Mr. Roy.”

“Attagirl,” he chirps. “Wait, ew. Jesus Christ, Roman, you call me Roman. Not that Mr. Roy shit. God, that’s gross.”

You’ll take any chance you can to get under his skin after all he does to you. Flipping over on your side, you face the window and watch the city lights dance before pulling out your phone and silently scrolling through Instagram. Roman does similar, though he doesn’t reciprocate the courtesy of doing so quietly. He watches videos at full volume, shaking the bed with his giggles. 

You shift to your other side, now facing Roman, who lays on his back. Your phone rests on the bed as you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks. You don’t often see him look relaxed like how he does now – how sexy he looks in those thin pajamas of his, his biceps toned and his bulge protruding from beneath the fabric of his pants. His usually sleek hair is slightly messy, and you wonder how those silky strands would feel between your fingers as you tug on them, with him holding you close in a tight embrace and his lips connected to yours, swallowing your moans. 

You tell yourself not to think about it, about him. Don’t think, don’t think, god, do not think about him. Don’t think about his thick bulge or his hands or their wrinkles, the bluish-green veins that climb up his knuckles. Don’t think about his waist, don’t think about his soft tummy, or the thin line of hair leading down his groin and beneath his pants. 

Roman’s looking at you, wearing that sly, cocky grin of his, pleased with the knowledge of what he does to you. He shuts his phone off and turns off the light on his nightstand, the faint glow coming from the open curtains now the only light.

He doesn’t take long to drift into a slumber, though you do, still thinking of the things you shouldn’t be. Images of Roman still dance in your mind for hours, you watch the time go by when you check your phone’s lock screen. You hear his voice in your head, that two word instruction from him playing over like a broken record. Behave yourself. And god, you can fucking smell him. He smells clean, like he always does, with notes of Caroline Herrera’s Bad Boy filling your nostrils – a cologne with a truly obnoxious bottle and an even more obnoxious name. Roman picked it out one time you were with him while he was shopping, just to piss you off. You’ve never hated the smell, though, and you love it even more on his skin. But he smells like sweat too, just a bit. So masculine and slightly musky, you can almost taste him. 

Your hand has moved on its own accord underneath your shirt and between your breasts. You’re not sure when it happened, but you become acutely aware of it when your knuckles brush against your nipple and you gasp. 

Roman stirs in his sleep, but he’s dead to the world. And you’re good at keeping yourself quiet – at least you think you are. 

You turn your head to look at Roman, pinching and twisting at your nipples. Alternating between soft and hard, gentle and rough touches. Roman’s got his arm draped over his head, his palm so close to you. You imagine it’s that hand, his hand, squeezing and groping the soft flesh of your breasts, pretending that tingling feeling when you drag your thumbs over your sensitive buds is his tongue, all hot and wet. You let yourself breathe, the quietest moans escaping your lips. 

And then you let your fingers dip lower, your fingertips skating down your body, feeling your sides and the soft curve of your tummy, your hips. Your hand goes lower and lower, your thighs parting as you find your core but not moving your legs wide enough to cross Roman’s invisible line. Tracing your lips first, your fingers travel closer to where you need to feel them the most. You’re wet, so fucking wet as you press your middle finger against your hole, collecting your slick and dragging it up to your clit.

You shift in the bed, spreading your legs wider and now circling your clit with your middle and ring fingers, dipping them into your entrance once more to gather your arousal and drag it up through your folds. Massaging yourself, you still pretend it’s Roman’s hand as you take in that sweet feeling that’s quickly beginning to build in the pit of your stomach. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each circle of your fingertips on your clit, fighting yourself to keep your hips as still as can be.

Romans voice startles you. “For a second I wondered if we’re near a fuckin’... earthquake, or uh– fault line or something, but you’re just rubbing one out next to your boss. Wow. Do you always shake the bed this much when you masturbate?” 

You gasp, “Roman.”

“Or just when you’re next to me?” You’re not really sure what the right move here is. You could pull your hand from under your pants, but Roman’s already caught you red handed. Leaving your hand between your thighs is not the right move either. “Funny,” he adds, “I thought we just had a conversation about behaving. Didn’t we?”

“I know, I–”

“I mean, you get brownie points for not crossing the line in the bed, I guess,” Roman lifts the covers of the bed, then reaches for your knee and gently pushes it back on your side of the bed. “But you are crossing all sorts of other lines. You must think you’re sneaky. I heard you moaning, you know,” he accuses. He mocks you then, all snark and derision as he lets out exaggerated and breathy moans you’re almost sure you weren’t making. Roman, oh, Roman! Yeah, right there, Roman, please…

 “Are you trying to get yourself in trouble?” he asks as he reaches for your jaw with one of his hands, turning you to look at him. He pinches, fingertips digging into the softness of your cheeks. No hiding now. “Is that what gets you off?” 

“No,” you stammer. 

“Liar.”

The air feels thick and Roman’s hazel eyes are dark, inky black, perhaps from the lack of light or maybe, you think, his own arousal? No, probably not. He looks genuinely pissed and you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, his intense gaze making you squirm. But you can’t seem to look away, either. He allows a silence to hang heavily between you both as he stares at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite read. And that’s when you notice it – with the hand that’s not holding your jaw, he’s stroking his cock underneath his pants. You can see the bulge, the shifting of his hand. 

“You’re touching yourself too,” you point out.

“Yeah, now I am. I’m a man. You made blood rush to my penis with your fucking moans and your Roman this and Roman that,” he huffs. Pulling down his pants and letting his cock spring free, he continues, “So my dick is hard. It should be your problem to deal with, but I’m bailing you out yet again. Always cleaning your— fuck,” he stutters, “Your messes.”

You have no clue what’s happening here. Roman lets go of his cock for a moment and he reaches for your arm, guiding you to start moving your hand once again. “Get it out of your system,” he says. “Go on. You didn’t have an issue fucking yourself next to me five minutes ago, did you?”

Cautiously, as with Roman you know full well that this could be a trap, you begin to move your hand with his guidance. “Yeah, good girl,” he whispers in a hushed, almost imperceptible tone, one that you probably weren’t supposed to hear. “God, I can’t believe you,” he says more clearly this time. “You better make it quick. We’re getting this over with, and we’re not looking at each other. Call it your punishment or something, just fuckin’—  take care of yourself.”

Roman adjusts so he’s flat on his back and resumes stroking his cock. His eyes are screwed shut and you’re watching his chest rise and fall, fully breaking the rule he just set. But you can’t help yourself, he looks so gorgeous like this. His pubic hair is longer than you would have expected Roman to have, but gorgeous nonetheless. He’s not the longest but his head is wide and round, with thick veins climbing his shaft. 

“You’re watching, you fucking creep,” he says in a breathy tone, his words slightly broken. He’s not looking at you, only at the ceiling above. “Breaking the rules. You have a hard time with that, don’t you? Look, I can follow rules. Why can’t you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. 

Roman rolls his eyes at that, then flips on his side to finally look at you. A flicker of what looks to be relief quickly washes over his features, but quickly disappears. He reaches for your shirt, hiking it up your torso and tugging – up, take it off. You do as he asks, taking off your top and exposing your breasts to the chill of the air in the hotel room. 

“I hope you know that I’m not gonna touch you,” Roman says. 

“I know,” you breathe. “I know you won’t, I just, I just…”

“Just what?” Roman asks, still stroking his cock. You take off the rest of your pajamas and adjust yourself slightly, then spread your legs wide, the invisible line be damned as your knees fall back toward your chest and you rub your swollen clit. God, how you need his fingers inside you. You’d fuck yourself on your own fingers, but it won’t satisfy you in the way you think Roman could. “Spit it out,” Roman demands. 

Fuck it. You’ll deal with whatever consequences later. In the boldest of moves, you reach for the hand that strokes his cock and bring it to your pussy, guiding Roman’s middle and ring fingers to your entrance and pushing them inside. 

Roman wears a twisted sort of smile as he curls his fingers inside you, now playing his own game with you. He taunted you with an accusation of ulterior motives, but it was all talk, like how most of Roman is. He suspected this before, but now he's certain: you have nothing but need for him. Amused by it, he’s now playing his game with you. As you moan for him he wonders, how much can he toy with you, drag this out? How much will you beg for him? Your hand is wrapped around his cock now by your own choice, he wonders how low will you sink, and how high will he feel by the end of whatever this is? 

You’re inching closer to him. Desperate. 

“Your hand is wrapped around my cock,” he whispers. “And you buried my fingers inside your cunt. Is something not clicking in that head of yours?”

“So good,” you breathe. You work his shaft, twisting your hand up and down. He’s thick, veiny, his head feels smooth in your palm. Roman’s touch is firm as removes your hand from his cock to hover it beneath your chin. “Spit,” he tells you. You’re so pliant, and do as you’re told, spitting into your own palm, Roman putting it back where he wants it. “Wow. I pull my cock out and you’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” 

All you do is nod. 

“God you’re soaked. Are you always this soaked for me? Just walking around all day, panties fuckin’ ruined?”

“Sh– shut up.”

Oh, you’ve still got some bite left. Roman wonders how quickly he can make that diminish. “Poor thing, did I hit a nerve? You wanna fuck me that badly? Are you really that desperate for your boss?” You say nothing, just inch even closer to Roman now. You hook a leg over his hip, moving your cunt towards what you need most from him, slowly guiding him in your hand ever closer to your entrance and hoping he’ll remove his fingers from you and replace them with his cock. And thank god, he does it. He pushes your hand away, gripping his member and notching the tip in your entrance. Fucking finally.

But he only collects your wetness on his tip, then spreads it down his shaft. He pushes his pelvis forward, rubbing his cock against your hooded clit and making you shiver. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he taunts, now dragging his cockhead down your dripping seam. 

“Roman,” you whine. 

“Roman,” he says, mimicking your whine, exaggerating how pathetic you sound. “Is that all you can say?”

“Fuck me,” you gasp. “Just fuck me, Roman.” 

“Yeah, I know. You know my name and how to nag me to fuck you. I get it. What you’re not getting is that I don’t care. It’s not gonna happen tonight, or tomorrow, or the day after that… Just gonna fuckin’ play with you like this,” he hums, now pushing his cock up against your clit again, tapping you. “Yeah, you’re good. This is… this is good. I’ve been so bored recently, you know? Wonder what happens when I do this,” Roman stops tapping his head against your sensitive clit, now sliding himself left and right across your sex. He bites his bottom lip when you gasp and squirm.

“I wonder if I could make you come just doing this,” he muses, continuing to tease you. “I know I could. I could blow my load on your pussy right now and make you clean up a mess for once. Is that what you need? For me to show you what you’re meant for?”

Maybe, you think. Maybe not. You don’t know what you think. You need his cock. Roman pushes himself forward, fitting just his head into your hole again. And you think it’s coming, the fullness, the pressure, the ache and the stretch and the burn. He’s bent on his two prior rules, but compromise never comes. He doesn’t give in to you. Roman’s grinning, giggling to himself as he draws his hips backward, denying you. Watching how you struggle for him, how you whine and squirm and push your hips towards him. “Is it?” he asks. 

“Fuck, is what?”

“Is that what you need?”

“Yeah, I need you to fuck me. Roman, please. Need it – need you inside.” 

 Roman pushes out an exhale somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Oh, that’s funny. That’s not what I asked at all. Is listening really that hard for you? What do they call that, tunnel vision but for hearing. Tunnel hearing? I don’t think that’s right.” 

“I’m sorry–”

“Google it for me.”

“Roman.”

“What the fuck do you think I hired you for? Google it. For me. Thanks.”

Roman lifts his dick again, rubbing it against your clit and then lining himself up again, all as you scramble for your phone and quickly open Safari. ‘Funnel visipn bur for hearin g’ is what you type, the combined sensations of Roman’s teasing and the too-bright screen making your task difficult. “Audi-auditory exclusion,” you manage to tell him. 

“Lemme see it,” Roman takes your phone from your hand, squinting at the screen. “Auditory exclusion is a form of temporary loss of hearing occurring under high stress,” he reads in his phony serious tone, still teasing you, bumping into your clit and then notching himself at your entrance, again and again and again. Giving you just a taste of what you know he could offer you instead. He’s opening Wikipedia now. “Auditory exclusion happens as a result of the physiological effects of the acute stress response, specifically an increased heart rate.”

“Fuck me, Roman, fuck me, please, I’m begging, please, please…”

“Begging’s nice, good. Very good. Very cute. But uh–” Roman points to your phone, “I’m busy reading here, so maybe quiet down. I really don’t want to hear it,” he laughs breathlessly, but nothing about this is funny to you. You’re in tears now. Tears of anger, frustration, shock. Roman lines up with your slick hole, just as he’s done repeatedly before. He notices your tears, “My god, you’re crying for it. So desperate, aren’t you?” he mocks your pout, wiping away your tears. You tell him you need him. “Need me? What a strong word. Yeah, I know that you need me. Message clear. God, you repeat yourself a lot. Fucking annoying.” 

Fuck this. Roman’s still on Wikipedia and down some rabbit-hole not even related to auditory exclusion. He’s stopped teasing you, his cock just resting, nestled at your entrance as he scrolls. And you take your chance. 

You reach for his shoulders and flip yourself so you’re above him, then sink down on his cock. Roman’s startled but he moans as he disappears into you and you sigh, finally feeling that stretch of his cock you’ve been craving since you don’t even know when – long before tonight. Roman watches where your body connects to his, seemingly shocked. He scoffs. “Oh, fuck you.”

Roman pushes your body off of his, he’s small but stronger than he looks. He flips you on your tummy and his touch is harsh but just what you need when he finally grabs your hips, placing his palm between your shoulder blades and forcing your chest down to the mattress. He was somewhat gentle when he was teasing you before, but all of that is gone now, as he lines up with your entrance and slams his hips into you, rocking you forward. He pulls out almost all the way before doing it again, harder. So many noises. You – gushing on his cock, moaning, crying out for him. Roman – his thighs slapping against yours, his grunts and his curses and breathy groans. The bed creaking with each of his thrusts. Roman fills you up better than you could imagine – fucking perfectly –hitting your walls, that sweet spot inside you. 

“So fucking wet for your boss. What’s that say about you, huh?”

Roman grips your hips tight – too tight. He’s denting his nails into your skin and it hurts, his thumbs are digging into your lower back. There’s no fluidity to his thrusts, no steady roll of his hips. Just Roman, parting your insides with the harsh rutting of his hips. His heavy balls swinging, bouncing against your clit, his soft tummy warm against your back. 

He sets a steady rhythm, a rhythm for his pleasure alone. Fucking you seemingly in two, exactly how you want it. Of course you want it this way. He can hear it in your muffled whimpers and cries, he wonders if the sheets are stained under your face, soaked with your tears. Roman holds your waist, forcing you up with your back against his chest. “Fuck,” you cry, and Roman wraps a hand over your mouth, the other is groping your breasts. Not that he doesn’t love the sounds you’re making for him, he just wants to give you another reminder of who’s in charge here – of how this is gonna go down, according to Roman. 

He tugs your earlobe between his teeth, his nose nudging your cheek. His mouth travels lower then, he bites at your neck where it meets your shoulders, the stubble on his cheeks scratching your skin. He’s sucking at your flesh hard enough to leave a mark – for what reason, he’s not entirely sure. To punish and to hurt you, humiliate you, maybe even mark you as his. It’s possessive and primal in essence, how the way you need him so fervently makes him feel powerful in a way he often does not. And you’re not helping your case at all, with your squirming and your whimpers only egging him on. You tried to take what you need from him, but he’ll drill into your head that you’ll only receive what he’s willing to give to you.

He wonders what comes after this. If you’ll turn on your side in bed, leaking with his come and hiding yourself from him, or if maybe you’ll cling to him instead. He knows that he’ll lay next to you after this and wonder what you’ll be like for the rest of this trip. Will you be shyer, about the same as usual, or maybe even bold? He’ll experiment with you, see how you react to a cold shoulder or a shower of attention. See what you’ll do when he squeezes your ass, or when sitting next to him in the car, the helicopter, or at dinner when his hand finds your thigh and inches closer to your sex. Will you lean into it? Will you squirm and push his hand away?

His hands travel along your sides and down your torso, he can tell you’re loving his touch. You’re shameless in your reaction to him, your pussy squeezing him, your wanton moans. Curious, Roman reaches for your clit just to see how you’ll respond. He teases you, tries to write his name with his fingertips into you. Lewd sounds of skin slapping skin, the obscenity of your pussy’s slick noises. He’s not going to last much longer, that is quite clear. 

He doesn’t care to try to make you finish first, as a gentleman should, although Roman nor anyone else would describe himself as such. You’re on his time. He knows how desperate you are to come, but he doesn’t care. He’ll get his first, something he doesn’t often get otherwise. And so his pace quickens, still biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck and shoulders. He bets that in all those late-night fantasies of yours about this moment, touching yourself in the dark, you didn't picture him being a biter. This much is evident with your pussy clenching on him and your short gasps showing your surprise. 

He savors that feeling in every inch of himself – the power he holds knowing you’re aching not only to come on his cock, but to feel his touch, to experience him. It’s still just a game to Roman. Maybe it’ll always be a game. He’s not sure yet. 

His cock twitches inside you, that warm and sticky feeling in his balls is beginning to crescendo. “I need to come,” you beg. “Roman, please make me come, I need-.”

“Shut up. I don’t care.”  Roman fucks you with frenzied thrusts, and he doesn’t pull out to stroke himself above you, doesn’t ask you if you’re on the pill or if you want him to come on your ass or your tits or in your mouth. Roman shamelessly lets himself go and fills you with his hot spend. His noises are like music as he comes inside you, melodic grunts and moans coming from deep within him. And you take it all, everything he gives you because that’s what you’re meant for. 

Roman takes heaving breaths above you, pulling out and his spend spills onto the comforter. He doesn’t give a shit. And as you collapse down onto your hands and knees you think that’s that, that he really doesn’t care. That all of this was probably about Roman savoring the feeling of having control over another person, and that dangling pleasure over her head is how he’ll get it. 

Roman climbs off the bed and you’re trembling. He flips you onto your back, pulls you forward by your legs so that your sex is centered with his face as he kneels at the edge of the bed. His mind has changed quickly – first he wanted to know what would happen if he didn’t make you come. He thought next about eating you out from behind, denying you connection as he tastes you, buries himself in your most intimate place. But you’ve done well for him, and it’s clear that you’ll take what he gives you at any cost. Roman watches you with hooded eyelids, offering you that connection as he brings his face to your center, licking a thick stripe up your cunt. Call it his soft spot. 

“Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”

Roman dives back into you, and you hesitate before reaching for his scalp. Tentatively, you do it anyway, just to see if he’ll react. He might smack your hands away, maybe he’ll place them down on the bed. You’re sure he won’t hold them. 

He lets your hands linger. Your fingers tug on those sleek strands of hair as he eats you, his scruff chafing your thighs. His eyes alternate between fluttering shut and peering up at you as dips his tongue into your entrance, licking his spend from your folds. He brings a hand to your cunt, two of his fingers pushing into your heat as his tongue dances circles around your clit. He’ll never tell you how sweet you taste on his lips. 

“Yes, oh god, Roman.” He’s kissing your cunt, lapping at your folds, his tongue teasing all of that sensitive flesh. His fingers curl inside you at the same time he sucks your clit between his lips, making you writhe for him. “Right there, Roman.” 

You’re not sure if he’s indulging himself or you at this moment. He eats you like a man starved, he eats you like it's his artwork. Nipping at your folds, his fingers inside you never once faltering their movements. You grind against his mouth as his tongue flicks and swirls. After all that’s taken place tonight, it doesn’t take you long to come. You bite down on your moans as pleasure washes over you, and you come on Roman’s tongue, gushing into the palm of his hand. When he’s ensured that he’s milked you entirely, he pulls away and takes his place back on his side of the invisible line. 

Roman had wondered if - once in bed - would you cling to him or turn away, but he doesn’t allow you that choice. Instead, he takes your wrist between his fingers as he turns away, curling on his side, effectively wrapping your body to spoon around his. He keeps your arm secured firm under his, tucked around his torso. Tender Roman. You’re on edge, he’s been relatively quiet this whole time, and you’re expecting some snarky comment or a vulgar insult. “I swear to god, I will smother you with my fucking pillow if you snore,” is all he says. His threat, albeit baseless, comforts you. 

-

[freakyformula]

Getaway

Summary: Reader is stressed out about school and Oscar helps her relax by inviting her to Silverstone.

Writers comment: Not proofread nor actually thought through I'm sorry in advance.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, fingering, oral (both receiving), safe sex.

Word count: 1,6k

You felt the autumn breeze against your skin as you walked home along the grey UK streets. All you wanted was to drift off to sleep and skip the rest of the day. But then, you realize that you have a school assignment that you have to finish, the deadline is today.

”Fuck…” you mutter to yourself.

Your attention is turned to your phone as it starts to vibrate. You light up when you see Oscar, your boyfriend's name on the screen.

”Hi Osc.”

”Uh oh, someone’s not happy…” He knows you like the back of his hand.

"Yeah well I've got so much homework and all I want is to relax." You complain.

The whole way home, you and Oscar talk, and as always, he cheers you up and when you open the door to your apartment your energy levels are restored again. Oscar had that effect on you.

OSCAR POV

Oscar sits at Silverstone and the McLaren hospitality as Lando walks up and sits down next to him, having listened in to the conversation Oscar and his girlfriend just had.

"Is she okay?" Lando asks with a tinge of concern as Oscar frown when you end the call.

"Yeah… She's just tired." Oscar smiles back at his teammate.

"Mate, make her happy and invite her here! No, demand she comes here, for her own good. I think she needs some time away." Lando exclaims.

"Yeah Lando, you're probably right. How do I convince her though?"

"Tell her you'll win if she comes." Lando quickly comments.

That night, you facetime each other as usual, and that is when his plan gets put into action.

"Hey, babe?" Oscar calls, "I've booked plane tickets for you for tomorrow, you're coming to watch me race. You better start packing your bags."

"You did what?!" She panics.

"You heard me."

"Ugh, Oscar, I don't have time! I've got so much stuff to do." She mutters under her breath but Oscar has no trouble hearing what she said.

"Y/N, you're literally finishing up on that assignment as we speak and there's no deadlines coming up in weeks. I'm sure you can make time for me, it's only a couple of days." Oscar comments.

"…I hate and love you so much, Oscar Piastri." She smiles at him with tears threatening to run down her cheeks.

And just like that school was out of her mind. She was focused on the race weekend and got busy packing outfits and showed them off to Oscar, giving him a tease of what was to come.

Saturday went well, and the two McLarens ending up at the front for tomorrow's race.

At the hotel, Oscar is sitting on the bed, nervously waiting for her to arrive. When his phone pings, letting him know that she's on her way to the hotel, he runs down to the lobby to welcome her.

"Welcome to Silverstone, my love!" Oscar hugs her tightly.

"Hi Osc, I'm so happy to see you."

"Shall we?" He says as he leads her into the elevator.

The vibe is instantly there, and he can't seem to tear his eyes and hands off her when they step out of the elevator, finding their way to the room.

Oscar walks behind her and holds her close, pressing his hardening member against her back. The height difference was notable like this, Oscar was considerably taller than her.

Her clear annoyance with the key card not working tells him that she wants this too.

When it finally opens, he pushes her inside, closes the door behind him and throws her bags to the side.

He walks closer, their lips almost touching. He creeps down to her jeans and unbuttons them.

"Eager, are we?" She asks him.

"You can't blame me, I've got the world's most beautiful girl in front of me."

She chuckles at his comment, and looks up at him amused.

Y/N POV

The feeling of him against you felt like heaven, and you grew more needy by the second. You needed him right now.

You slide your hands under his tee and study his strong torso with your fingertips. Slowly, you grow more courageous and move your hands further up, until Oscar takes the hint and gets rid of his shirt while he is busy kissing you. He starts at your cheek, working down your neck and crouching down to attack your chest.

His treatment makes you let out a small moan, making him giggle.

"You're so pathetic, my sweet girl. A little kissing and you're already moaning like a good little whore."

Hearing his degrading words makes you look away, embarrassed.

Oscar doesn't like that and grabs your hair to turn you back to look him in the eyes.

"You're my good girl, are you not?" He asks as he leads you into the bedroom.

"I'm your good girl." You confirm.

"Then kneel and suck."

You gulp and do as he says, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shorts while you look at him. He grabs your hair and fixes it into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes your face against his already rock-hard cock.

Desperate to be good to him, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out for him.

"Oh my lord... Ready?" He checks in.

You nod and bend forward and take a taste of his tip. You slowly go deeper with each bob of your head, making Oscar moan. You can feel his thighs shaking from your treatment as you steady yourself on them with your hands.

He must have been too carried away because when he starts pumping into the back of your throat, you begin to gag and the tears start to stream down your cheeks. He quickly pulls you off, apologizing immensely, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Helping you up from your knees, he grabs you under the ass and carries you to the bed, throwing you onto the sheets. He quickly follows and lands next to you and starts by pulling your oversized hoodie off and then moving on with the jeans. Much to his surprise, you didn't wear a bra under the hoodie. The two peaks were looking at him invitingly and he gladly accepts, moving down to suck and massage them, moving from one to another.

You're a moaning mess at this point, bucking you hips up towards him. You deem Oscar too slow and grab the lining to your string panties, starting to pull them down when he grabs your hands.

"Let me do it, love." He states as he pulls them down, looking at the creation before him, in complete awe.

He leans down and kisses your red and tender lips, sucking them even more raw.

You let out a disappointed groan as he parts the kiss but quickly lighten up as he moves down to your aching pussy. He parts your drenched lips with his fingers and tastes you, letting out a desperate moan. He can't stop himself, and dives in, completely destroying you.

You're practically screaming at this point, and as you realise how loud you are, you try to silence yourself but quickly fail when he nibbles at your puffy clit, making you yelp.

He starts to tease your entrance with his middle finger, circling around it and collecting the wetness.

Slowly, he slides it in, making you moan loudly again.

"Jesus, my love, you're so wet and tight for me.", his words make you moan even louder.

Then, another finger.

When he starts pumping and ravaging your pussy with his mouth, you can't hold back and let out a desperate scream.

"Schhhh… It's okay, Y/N. Are you gonna cum for me?"

The only answer you can manage to get out of your lungs is a quick "nghyeah" which only spurs Oscar on.

He pumps even harder and his tongue is probably exhausted from the pleasuring.

When you feel your orgasm wash over you, you stop breathing. Your whole body freezes, making you see white. Grabbing anything you can, which happens to be a pillow and Oscar's hair, you scream out and catch up on your breath as you come down from your high.

"Do you think you can take me now?" He asks with a smirk on his stupidly adorable face.

You nod and he quickly grabs a condom and you help him put it on.

You pick your legs up and he hovers over you, admiring your dripping heat again before he takes you.

He lines up with your pulsing entrance and reads your face when his large member intrudes you. The stretch is painful at first but soon subsides and all you can feel is pure fucking pleasure. He starts out slow but picks up the pace quickly, destroying your pussy.

Usually when having sex with Oscar, it wasn't just you two fucking, but rather you two making love and doing something special to each other. Looking after one another, one could say.

Oscar didn't like the term "love makers" but that's what people probably would brand you as.

This time though, things felt different. Things were more intense, and the pace was quicker. Why, you didn't know, but you assumed it was because of you being apart for a couple of weeks.

"Are you gonna cum once more?" He breathes out.

"Yeaaaah…" You yell lazily, and with that, you cum again, and Oscar soon following, being a yelling and cursing mess. As you realise how pathetic you both sound, you burst out into laughter.

"What?!" Oscar asks.

"We sound like a pair of horny teenagers!" You laugh hysterically.

"Well… We kind of are."

"Very true." You comment.

"So anyway… Round two?"

[7ndipity]

Long Distance Relationship HCs

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: How Yoongi would be in a long distance relationship. In connection to this blurb.

Warnings: not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Writing these really brought my mood up(can I pls have a Yoongi? For my health?) I hope you like them!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You’re 100% on point about him making those little ‘joking-but-dead-serious’ comments constantly, like “There’s a flight leaving in like two hours, I could be there by the time you wake up tomorrow morning… Why are you laughing? I’ll even bring breakfast!”

He would use any excuse to fly you to Seoul.

“It’s done nothing but rain here all week.” “Damn, that sucks. Although, you know, that wouldn’t be a problem if you were here.”

“I’m not flying to Korea just to buy potato chips.” “Why not?! I’ll pay for your ticket!”

He does make sure you don’t go more than about a month without seeing each other in person, whether that’s him coming to you or vice versa, even if it’s just one day.

You tend to video call each other while you’re doing whatever and just leave the call open, not even really talking outside of the occasional comment or question, just keeping each other company.

Y’all send little care packages to each other full of things like favorite snacks, random little gifts you’ve found, hoodies, etc.

For some reason, I think y’all would have some little plushie that you send back and forth, sending pics of what they're up to while they’re with you(hanging out in his studio, binge watching youtube with you).

Because he’s so busy all the time, it doesn’t actually feel all that different sometimes from when you’re in the same city, but that almost makes the moments when you do feel the distance all the worse. Not being able to physically be there for each other when you’re really down or having a tough time is absolute agony.

“Did you know that the international space station is only 250 miles up? It’s closer than we are right now.” “Babe...”🥺

Literally the first time you cried over the phone with him, he lived up to his ‘jokes’ and had his plane ticket booked before you’d hung up.

You wake up the next morning to him calling you like “Open your fucking door, I brought coffee.” and you’re like wtf?! But you open the door and sure enough, there he is.

And when you ask “What are you doing here?!” He’s just like “You were crying. I couldn’t leave you here on your own.”😭

The first time you surprised him like this(probably for his birthday or Christmas), he cried and refused to let you go for over an hour.

The day you tell him you’re moving to Seoul is probably one of the happiest days of his life. (He won’t hear of you getting your own place tho. “I’ve had more than my fill of distance, Love. I need you here, with me.”)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[natailiatulls07]

The Golden Trio

Lando Norris x female!reader

Carlos Sainz x female!reader

Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc

Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??

Warning - offensive names hate comments swearing slight arguments

A/n - there will be a part two, however I’m thinking of making this a series so keep an eye out for that 🤍

The golden trio

-

yourusername

Sorry boys, mother Taylor called 🤩

Liked by landonorris and 49,273 others

username Probably using the money of Charles and Max

username Could’ve been there to support her bestfriends but chose to ignore them and be selfish, slut

maxverstappen1 Betrayal 😣

= charles_leclerc It was bond to happen, remember when she made us stay up to try for tickets with her??!

= yourusername I would’ve taken you two but you were busy with something 🙄

username The fact that she choose Taylor over supporting her two bestfriends, fake ass bitch

= username She has a life of her own, she doesn’t need to follow them around the world yk so shut your mouth 😘

username Love the midnights inspired outfit 😍

charles_leclerc posted a story

maxverstappen1

Got the book worm out in the fresh air 🌊

Tagged: charles_leclerc yourusername

Liked by arthur_leclerc and 42,193 others

username She doesn’t deserve this sort of treatment, she’s just a whore who only wants their dicks and money

username The golden trio are really glowing in that sun 😍

landonorris Where was my invite?!

= yourusername They wouldn't let me :(

= charles_leclerc Good ahead blame us!

= yourusername That's because you are the ones to blame 😊

username Is that DR3 merch I see???

= yourusername yes I'm his biggest supporter 😋

= username oh great another f1 driver that she’ll steal money from

f1gossip

Spotted: Outside of her shared apartment with Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen, Y/n L/n is looking a bit annoyed. Did something happen?? How are Max and Charles feeling?? That’s the real question 👀

If anyone has any more links to what is going on please DM me 🙏🏻

Liked by username and 5,203 others

username Why are you just assuming thing??

username It’s obvious that she’s the one to blame

username I wonder where she’s going

= username Probably to a bar or a club with their cards 😒

= username It’s giving gold digger energy

username I hope the golden trio is okay 😕

landonorris posted a story

Gossip Groupchat (white: Reader) (red: Charles) (blue: Max)

Please come back to the apartment Y/n, we’re sorry

Yeah we never meant to say those things

You’ve got to be kidding me! This is an actual fucking joke

I’m sorry, we don’t know what was going through our minds

I have been you’re bestfriend for years! Years of constant hate on social media, I’ve been called every name under the sun because I’m friends with you two! And then you both go and decide that it’s okay to practically agree with that hate, wtf!

I know and we’re sorry and we mean that sorry so much

Please, just come back to the apartment

I can’t, not tonight or tomorrow.

Where will you stay??

Lando’s, we bumped into each other at the club and if you got a problem with that, you can shut your fucking mouth

Okay, we love you Bee

Yeah, I agree with Charles. We do love you so much Bee

I know, I just need space rn

-

[grub-hut]

I don't use Tiktok, never will, In my opinion I think the app should shut down. [ But that will never happen... So I will cope.] But god are ya'll are insufferable on there. The fact you have this strong par asocial attachment to Sebastian and claim that Zerum is ""ruining the character"" is just blasphemy and shows you guys know nothing to zero about writing and do not play the game whats so ever. I've talked to Zerum; Ive talked to the devs and mods ; and all the false claims and misinformation that's being spread like a wildfire IS CRAZY. Everyone's so exhausted. It takes just a couple of minutes to prove it's false but that would actually require these people to literally sit down and fucking read. Zerum never banned anybody. Zerum doesn't handle the bans in the server. If you got banned or muted, it was most likely the automod in the server that they have implemented to avoid people saying anything weird or sexual... [ A friend of mine got muted because they sent a gif that had a weird name to it; nothing related to the gif, the gif was fine and they filed a ticket and got unmuted. Its just the bot doing its job.] and even then the mods probably banned you for something completely unrelated...

and even then, can we STOP normalizing this??

Like this GRINDS my gears, it fucking rusts, it makes me want to break down and combust into flames- Stop. Stop. YOU ARE THE ISSUE. Creators want to create. Either for ourselves or for others, whatever it maybe people enjoy letting their creativity flow because ITS FUN. IT SHOULD BE--- FUN!!! We are giving you literally something free and something to ENJOY because we enjoy it just as much! This stupid fucking mindset being so normalized makes me SO SICK. " whatever is put on the internet is free reign!" you guys have ZERO respect for any creator; even yourselves and its so BLATANTLY OBVIOUS. You guys preach about "respecting artists/creators" till it doesnt fit with your agenda, because we should just "expect" our works to be disrespected and used. Like our feelings never mattered. Are we going to ignore the discussion of AI art too? Or copyright, or literally anything of that sort here? Yes, its the internet, there WILL be people who are so drastically cruel and do something you will not like. I do agree its best to ignore those kinds of people but that does not mean we should just LET it happen. It does not mean we should suck it up and take the blows. This is how people stop creating, youre killing artists, youre shunning them away because "its the internet, lol, dont get mad if ppl -" Stop it, you're teaching younger generations that it does not matter if you have boundaries or not and that your voice doesnt mean anything. I mean fuck, you put your oc here I can use it however I want then! Because you shouldve expected the moment you click post for other people to use it! Who cares right?! its OUR oc now >:)!!! No matter what the character is from, by a indie game, a comic, a book, yadda yadda. If youre gonna be scum, you are gonna BE scum. Artists should be respected and be listened to. If Zerum ships her oc to her oc, so fucking what? She created him. YES. SHE CREATED HIM. Just because she is a """co-owner" You forget she wrote and designed him. You forget its STILL HER CHARACTER. WHICH BTW, HE WOULDNT EXIST IF IT WASNT FOR ZERUM!! ITS HER CHARACTER- Not yours, and if your first thing that comes to mind " oh but shes ruining her character" then so what, its not MADE for you. Hell, Sebastian is only like 1% of the whole entire game! ENJOY THE GAME, ENJOY THE ACTUAL LORE. MAKE YOUR OWN OCS, GO WACKY WOOHOO AND ENJOY IT WITH OTHERS. If you make headcanons for Sebastian or any other characters! Great! As long as you are respectful who literally cares. HAVE FUN! Stop harassing and bullying and literally spreading misinfo; I am so sick of people with this mindset! This is why the internet is such a shit place to begin with because we just let this stuff happen. Grow up! Like PAInter said.." YOURE NO FUN AT ALL!"

[ad-astrah]

Finally Watched Cinderella's Castle Digital Ticket (Twice) and I Gotta Get My Feelings Out Somewhere, Somehow (Part I)

Feel free to light up my DMs to chat about it!

And now, for my personal highlights/live reactions:

immediately I'm drawn in by Nick Lang's silly narrator voice and the way he warns us of what's coming. Especially the "muRrrDder!"

Jeff Blim cut his hair. JEFF BLIM CUT HIS HAIR. Not that I didn't like the long locks, but something about his Aladdin Era short hair gets me, man.

Jeff Blim literally getting to own the stage like the man was born to

Jeff Blim's slutty bard getup with the artfully messy hair and the heavy guyliner. That sinful bastard.

"Let's go." I'll follow you anyway, slutty bard.

Okay 80s rock jam! Hell yes.

idk why but I just love the line "There are tales in those walls, are they true or are they tall?"

THIS SET, THO. 80s vibes. Muppets vibes. Princess Bride vibes. Spooky, ethereal fairytale vibes. I love it! Props to the team who designed and built it.

prance, slutty bard boy, prance around that stage.

Jesus Fuck, I've only seen Joey's puppet but I'm already SOLD. Nick and Matt Lang and whoever else had a hand in making these puppets fucking OUTDID themselves! Did they use the Black Book and resurrect Jim Henson?

Throughout the show, the muppet vibes just absolutely amaze and delight me. Makes me feel like a little kid, spellbound by this fairytale. Except it's much darker, more gruesome, way more explicit, and extremely horny.

Oh look, it's Joey's Jingle/Jangle (whichever elf he was) voice from Black Friday.

Love me some o' dat non-binary representation from Ragweed. Starkid once again screaming GAY RIGHTS bitches.

I'm getting some of Jeff's Aragog from AVPS in this Narrator. Anyone else?

Stupid STUPID butcher!

Jon Matteson's accent. *giggles madly*

Angela IMMEDIATELY having to pause for applause before she finishes her first freaking line. The queen deserves it all, though.

The foreshadowing of the Stepmother cutting off Ella's feet. O_O

"It's furryyyyy and fouuuuul and full o' maGOTTTSSaaaaaggghhhh!"

Angela doing the little spinny finger thing in a guy's face to fluster them just like Max did to her character in Nerdy Prudes. I love these physical running gags. My fave being the Smoke Club, though.

OIIIINK oinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoink

Sir Preston asking for help from the audience. His "ELLAaaaaa....nooooo....."

The lighting in this entire show is SO COOL.

Again, Jeff just louging like a whore about the set like its his bitch. I live for it.

James' COSTUME. He looks SO FUCKING GOOD. Props to the costume folks...and to James' rockin' genes.

"But nothing compares to the juice and the hairs..." Oh no. Ohhhhh no I see where this is going. Don't say it, James, don't-- omg he said it.

er ee er ee er ee *window rolling down*

I thought the Prince drawing bewbies on the frosty window was funny already, and then he goes WAH WAH WAH and pretends to pinch them and I fucking lost it.

The Prince checkin' out DAT AZZZZZZ XD

"I'd wager she's wetter now than when I first found her bobbing in the river." OH MY GOD. PRINCE. THAT'S HER NOT-MOM.

If his highness has had every STD and beaten it, that's so fucked up but also damn, that boy's immune system is killin' it. Literally.

"Poor mad EllaAH"

"This is one thirsty FUCKING house." For real, omg.

"The offer stands firm. Come calling if you are!" *screams*

Jeff miming being crew and pulling the ropes for the curtains.

*audience member sneezes* "Bless you."

Angela's diction is next fucking level. PUNY. PINK. KIND.

The epic troll reveal! The puppets are SO GOOD.

THE FROG FUCKING TURNING AWAY AS SHE ASKED FOR IT TO DO SO SHE COULD KILL IT. CHRIST.

This bayou boogie song of Ella's is an absolute KILLER BOP. Holy shit. And it's SO perfect for Bryce's funky, sassy voice.

Speaking of which, BRYCE'S VOCALS. I'm gonna scream about them for forever and ever and ever. I love her voice SO FUCKING MUCH. I could listen to nothing else for the rest of my days and die a happy little gay.

"ohhhh woah woah waohhh" *flips the bird* She's such a queen for that.

"It needs oregano" WORK BITCH

Bryce's stage presence is fucking INSANE. I dunno how she's not on Broadway, but thank goodness we got her!

SIRE MANY TADPOLES!

GOD I love this absolutely depraved, horny little bastard of a prince.

It's amazing Tadeus hasn't murdered the prince yet. The man deserves a medal for the literal shit he's put up with.

Bugette?! I thought you choked on shit died and were consumed by the Hive Queen?

Rancilda being a typical troll and loving lurking under bridges and telling riddles.

Schuyler Sister vibes from the song with Justine and Lucy. So cute.

Justine and Lucy are SUCH real ones for IMMEDIATELY believing Ella about her family being trolls and for saying "fuck the ball, we're leaving NOW."

Shake dat ass, Mariah!

Lauren's physical comedy as Rancilda is NEXT LEVEL. I'm wheezing over here!

iSNn'tT it A BiiIItTcH?!

I LOOK GOOD IN THIS. What an absolute fucking BANGER. This song is gonna play in my head on repeat for the next decade. What a next level villain song.

Also this gives me some strongass Joan Jett vibes. "I love wearin' the skin of dead girls rock 'n' roll!"

and I hEEeaARr yoU'Re RiiiCCHhH

Seriously, is this the next Top Chart breakup revenge song? It should be.

"I really LIKE that song!" XD Putrice. I love how much of an absolute BIMBO she is.

Rancilda singing the song again. "SHUT UP STUPID BITCH, THE SONG'S OVER." "Okaaaaiiii"

Matt Dahan's ability to riff off the main songs and create motifs is otherworldly.

General MacNamara? Is that you?! Oh wait, nope. Still my slutty, slutty bard.

I LOOOOOOOVE this badass electric guitar intro, holy shit.

Kim Whalen, the queen, getting the bitchin' entrance she deserves.

Starkid is so, so good at their sound design to help immerse you in a scene without blowing a big budget or doing anything elaborate.

...Kim. My girl. Your arms must be tired.

She's just standing there, but Kim's stage presence is still so strong.

I can't get over how Jon's Sir Hops-A-Lot's voice is just a small...ahem. Hop, skip, and a jump away from Wiggly's.

JOEY. THAT ACCENT. You ABSOLUTE genius idiot. I love you for this stupidass voice.

Joey's bowl cut makes me giggle like mad.

I love these two puppets SO much.

GIT IT, KIM.

The call and response bit with Ella and the Goddess reminds me of Hamilton when Washington is dictating his Farewell Address. I know it's gotta be in other musicals, too, but that's the clearest comparison for this nerd at the moment.

Jeff sneaking in the "castle on a hill" song reference in this song.

Kim and Bryce dueting together is just Power incarnate. Holy cow. It's so good.

"You shall be as radiant and terrible as I." Ooooooh. Yes. Gimme.

The Narrator sneaking out from amidst the ensemble to finish off the song was really neat.

That fading spotlight before curtain for intermission with just Ella's face in view is so beautiful and haunting. What an epic close to Act I.

Also, it seems like this was also a strategic way to imply Ella's outfit being transformed there on stage during the song without actually having to do the tricky costume designing quick-change theater miracles of an ACTUAL outfit transformation. Which is really brilliant. Leave the audience to wonder until post-intermission about what Ella's starlight dress will look like.

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Blake Quotes

BLAKEY POOOOO ♡ sassy man

“You’re the brightest spot in my life. You always have been, even when you’re so far away I can barely see the glow.”

“Charming friend you got there. [he’s shaking in his boots]”

“That’s a one-way ticket to ending up in a spiral!”

“Whatever you need of me. I’ll give it, provided you save my love.”

“Questions aren’t really necessary right now, so how about you just sit there and look pretty, hmm?”

“Do you want me to show you exactly what magic can do when it’s not on your side?”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what I want too. [goofy goofy chuckle]”

“You make me smile, you make me happy. I like being with you. That’s enough.”

“I can’t always keep my head above the water, but being with you is like… having an air tank. I might be below the surface, but I’m still getting oxygen. You’re that oxygen that keeps me going when I’m under."

“I told you, it was nothing... All right, let me clarify, it’s not “nothing”, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“I’m all yours.”

“Your little fuckbuddy-"

“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me. It felt like… someone switching on the lights, and suddenly realizing that I’d been standing in the dark all that time before. It felt like life was suddenly in colour.”

“it felt like I got a taste of everything I’d ever wanted, the most amazing feeling I’d ever experienced and then the next morning, I didn’t just lose the chance at that, I lost my best friend.”

“I’m tired of the dance. I just miss my friend.”

“I can’t be another mistake. Because it’ll break me.”

“You know me, you know how I am.”

“If we’re together, I’ll do everything for you, and I’ll give you everything I can, I’ll give you time and patience, if you need to be with your own thoughts, I’ll give you quiet, but I won’t be able to give you space.”

“The things I think about you, how much I want you… it’s the stuff you’re not supposed to say out loud. The stuff you’re never supposed to admit to feeling.”

“Just sitting at the table one morning, having breakfast when you realized, Oh wait, who's that voice in my head? Must be an ancient, unknowable force in Death. Guess I'll go back to my oatmeal.”

“What are you doing?”

“You would dirty their fucking name by speaking it.”

“if you pick this, it’ll be all of me. All of it. And we both know a lot of that’s not pretty.”

“I’ll get that smile on those pretty lips in the morning, just you wait.”

“I’m not worried you’ll try something. You don’t constitute a meaningful threat in my book. Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“I’m not that fucking stupid. [He is]”

“Congratulations, someone please get the gentleman a door prize.”

“You can’t matter.”

“You're going to learn when to shut the fuck up. And spoiler alert, tied up, on the ground, with your powers inhibited? That's one of those times.”

“Wouldn’t that be cute?”

“I sleep easy in the arms of the person I love. Knowing that everything I’ve done, everything I do, I do for them.”

“I never stopped loving you, I’m still back there, I’m still just this scared kid telling you he fucking loves you.”

“Cute. Are you going to keep wasting time with passive aggression or do you actually have something to tell me?”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Yeah, all for you. All of it. [ft D’Deridahn calling him horny in the background]”

[supercantaloupe]

good gd i hate arranging travel through a group/agency rather than by myself now

[yazmarina]

i wanna roll with him, a hard pair we will be

zak o'sullivan (f2) x fem!reader

your best friend is a monaco race winner. you find out winning turns others into totally different people

warnings/notes: smut, mutual masturbation, dry humping

a/n: this is very self indulgent okay let me have my zak moment,,,and this turned out much dirtier than expected LMAO okay bye

.

You weren't even supposed to be here. The flight, accommodation, and paddock pass were almost too much, and you debated just dropping the plan altogether.

But Monaco is special to a lot of racing drivers. Symbolic in the way that it holds history and is the place of many victories. It's special to him.

So, you bite the bullet, book the tickets, and grit your teeth through the exorbitant amount that turned up on your credit card record. You only live once, live in the moment, viva la vida, whatever.

You're here now in Monte Carlo, in arguably the best seat you could afford with what you had after months of saving and weaseling a loving loan from your parents. Watching the race. Watching Zak.

You arrived early this morning, rushing to your hotel, and packing what you needed for the day. You tried to get some shut-eye, managing to get barely three hours of sleep. And then off to the track you went.

Zak doesn't know you're here. You had to lie through your teeth to your own best friend. You told him Monaco just wasn't in the cards and that you'd see him race some other time. In Silverstone, maybe, or Monza.

He has no clue that you're sitting here, with bated breath, as the lap count ticks down with every minute. Zak is leading but he hasn't pitted yet, and they're about to enter the second to the last lap of the race, and what the fuck are they doing not pitting him yet?

Then it happens, almost too quick for you to register. The large screen in front of your section shows a collision. Yellow flag. Virtual safety car.

You're confused for a moment, shocked exclamations erupting around you, but then you see it happen. Zak pits in the midst of the safety car, rushes out, and comes out a second ahead of the whole pack.

You don't even notice how loud you gasp as you finally realize what's happening. One more lap to go and Zak is leading.

The seconds seem to tick by awfully slow yet the race is coming to an end right before your eyes. The checkered flag waves and he crosses the line and the crowd erupts in cheers, mixed with disbelief and genuine awe.

His team gambled and he walked away with the jackpot.

Zak O'Sullivan, Monaco race winner.

Everything played out in one big blur after. You were clapping, then you were crying, running, squeezing through people, pushing, praying that you get to the paddock unscathed.

You pause for a second in front of a screen to watch the champagne spray around Zak on the podium. He's beaming, still in awe himself. You feel the tears come once more and you sprint through the throngs of people and down the streets of Monte Carlo.

You arrive at where the team support trucks are, growing nervous with each step. You came alone and sure, some of the ART people knew who you were, but without Zak, you're feeling a little lost.

You stop in front of the ART truck and it's quiet, as you expected, with all of the employees probably down at the podium celebrations. A pair of personnel clad in the team kit exit the vehicle just as you contemplate contacting Zak's trainer.

"Hi," one of them greets, a sprightly young woman around your age greets. Probably one of the communication people.

"Are you here for Victor or–"

"Zak," you rush out. "I'm ______, his friend. I've gone with him back in Bahrain and Jeddah this year, but I came just this morning so..."

"Oh! Yes, it's you. I remember now, Zak's friend, yeah," the other cuts in. "He was pretty bummed out today, saying something about how you couldn't make it?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks. "Yes, that's me. I wanted to surprise him."

"Well, consider me surprised."

You turn around, your heart leaping into your throat. Standing there is the best friend himself, drenched in champagne and holding his winning trophy to his side.

Zak rushes to you and pulls you into a hug, handing off his trophy momentarily to the employees. You feel his arms circle around your waist just as you feel the rest of your tears fall.

"I'm so proud of you," you whisper as you bury your face into his shoulder.

"I thought you couldn't make it," Zak says, pulling away slightly to peer at your tear-streaked face. "But my luck just keeps getting better, huh?"

You meet his eyes and you can see the sparkle of victory in his irises. He grins down at you and pulls you in again, swaying you from side to side.

"Zak, we need a bit more media from you," comes a voice calling out from further down the paddock.

"I'll be a minute!" Zak calls over his shoulder, slipping his hand in yours. "Take my trophy with you but be careful!"

You giggle, glancing behind to see the ART personnel shake their heads in disbelief.

"Come here a second," Zak says, pulling you toward the entrance to their makeshift motorhome for the weekend.

You step inside, familiar with how the interior is, having seen something similar from when Zak was still in Prema last year. You're usually not allowed inside, but riding off a win, you suppose no one dared argue with Zak.

The door shuts and Zak turns to look at you. His eyes scan your face, a smile growing wider on his lips.

"You're here," Zak states as if still not believing it.

"I'm sorry I lied," you admit sheepishly. "I wanted to surprise you, maybe comfort you if the race doesn't go as planned."

Zak chuckles, stepping closer and taking your other hand. You take a good look at your best friend and you feel yourself tear up again.

"But I'm here to celebrate your first podium, a win in Monaco, instead. How about that?" You finish, letting out a breath as Zak takes ahold of your face, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

"How about that, indeed," Zak repeats, tilting your head up so you're looking at him.

You're quite familiar with how success can make you do uncharacteristic things. It makes you reckless, unboundedly giddy. Drivers lock lips with their significant others in front of the camera after a win. Shirts discarded. Champagne poured down their bodies.

Oh, but you're not Zak's girlfriend. There are no cameras.

But you taste the champagne just the same as Zak pulls you in, kissing you with so much force it drives you back against the door.

You reach behind you, still having the presence of mind to turn the lock and bar anyone from walking in on you and Zak.

You grab at the half-undone collar of Zak's race suit, tugging the zipper down in one fell swoop. Zak pulls away, long enough to shrug his suit off, just enough so it hangs under his hips.

You understand now, that underneath it all, success makes you horny.

"Zak," you begin. "What...wait–"

Your best friend pauses, breathing heavily, hair mussed up and lips shiny from kissing you.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't want him with every fiber of your being.

"We can stop," Zak offers, reaching out tentatively. He brushes some strands of hair away from your face.

"I just...I was really lucky today and I thought maybe I should just gamble one more time," he explains, trailing his fingers down the side of your face, to your neck, fingertips lightly brushing against your collarbone.

You get it. Or you think you do. He wants you, too.

You pause. You turn it over in your head for a second. What this means for the both of you. If you do this, you step out of this truck as something different from when you entered.

"Come here," you whisper, grasping the back of Zak's neck before leaning in to kiss him again. He groans, large hands finding your waist as he pulls you flush against him.

You can feel him poking through his fireproofs and you moan into the kiss, grinding hard against the stiffness. Your dress hikes up as you wrap a leg around Zak's waist.

"Fuck," he curses. "I didn't...god, have I had a boner all this time?"

You giggle, rubbing even more on Zak. He groans, throwing his head back, his hold on your waist almost vice-like.

"Winning does that to you," you whisper, kissing along his defined jawline.

"My race winner," you say right next to Zak's ear, biting down on his earlobe after.

Zak buries his face into the crook of your neck, rutting against you, desperate for release. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug lightly, whimpering as the friction through your underwear increases.

"Oh god, look at us," you mutter hurriedly. "Grinding and humping like a bunch of horny school kids."

"I'm gonna cum," Zak warns, pulling off slightly before reaching into his fireproof bottoms. He pulls his length out, pumping furiously.

You pull your dress all the way up to your stomach, tugging your underwear away just enough to let Zak have a view of how drenched you are. Your fingers reach down to circle around your clit as Zak continues to jerk off.

"Cum in them," you offer, gesturing to your panties. "I'll keep it on the whole day."

Zak's mouth hangs open as he finishes all over his fist and into the fabric of your underwear, the delicate material catching his sticky release. The sight of the mess pushes you over the edge yourself, your knees buckling slightly as you try to keep yourself upright through your euphoria.

You retract your hand from between your legs, panting and noticing you've worked up a sweat, as if you had just gone for a long, very sexually-charged jog.

Zak looks at you and smiles, taking your soiled hand and licking your fingers clean off. He winks as his lips let go with a pop! and you reach over to smack him in the chest.

"Naughty," you grumble, though you're grinning just as wide.

"I know you are, but what am I?" Zak taunts, pressing a kiss to your lips. You sigh against it and savor it all: Zak's touch, the smell of champagne on his skin, and the glow that seems to envelop you two now.

"They're probably looking for you," you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"I'll be back," Zak reassures, stepping back. He stills for a moment and takes the image of you in once more before kissing your cheek.

"Wait here, yeah?"

[wthtorke]

Snowstorm

*Looks around* Well hello lmao what a better way to return than posting a THICK ass fic huh

8K words - Warnings for getting trapped, small spaces, and everything that comes with it + general trauma + injury - Gender-neutral reader

Enjoy! <3

-

You often put others' needs before your own. 

Not that you noticed you did it. It took some pointing out from your close friends to get you to realize just how you swept your desires under the rug.

After god knows how much pushing, you agreed to go on a trip by yourself. "No work worries, no guys, no girls, just you and your alone time!" Your friend had said. 

You sat in your living room with your laptop, browsing through destinations and flight tickets. Everyone seemed eager to see you go on the trip. At least, you hoped it was that. While you loved your friends, you worried that if you were not helpful somehow, they would drop you cold. 

Were they happy for you or happy to see you go? You didn't know, but the trip could help that too. You wanted to be more independent, sure, and in tune with yourself. 

Your eyes stop on an ad, and immediately you click it. 

Skiing in the Rocky Mountains.

You smile. The cool crisp air may do you some good.

You book the ticket and the hotel for your stay, and as the week goes by, you pack your bags. You had gone on other trips throughout your life, of course, but this one felt a little different. Maybe because it'd be your first alone adventure in a long time, but whatever it was, you felt good about it.

The day before the trip, you say goodbye to your friends and head back to your house. Only 7 hours of sleep and a couple more of flight separated you from snow and, hopefully, a lot of fun.

The trip is easy enough. You get to your room at the hotel and unpack just enough to start exploring as soon as you could. 

Groups of people gathered at the tourist stops choosing what they would be doing and booking activities for the day. Just as you reach the board, the ski equipment is fully booked for the day already. 

You frown as a lady beside you nods. "Yup, all gone! I'm pissed as fuck too! You either bring your own or get here at the butt of the morning to rent equipment." She sighs. "I'm going on a hike. Make sure to leave your name in the equipment call, though. If somebody gives up, they should give you preference, it seems." She shrugs.

You nod, perking up and signing your name with the clerk's list, looking back at the girl again, "what hike did you choose?" 

"Me? One of the easy ones, that one-," she points at the boards again. The list still had some spots left, "It's the longest of the easy ones, though. Thinking about joining?" 

You nod, "Yeah, it's only my first day here. It sounds good enough for a first day," you say, picking up the pen and putting down your info on the list. The group would depart in 30 minutes, enough time to prepare for it. 

"Nice! I'll see you at the meeting point later then!" She smiles and walks off. You smile at the clerk and head back to your room to pack your bag for the hike. 

You pack your backpack with energy bars, the biggest water bottle you could find, the emergency first aid kit one of your friends gifted you, a hiking map you bought in the reception, a small emergency light, an emergency bivy, and an emergency blanket, just in case. 

On your way down, you buy two sandwiches from a machine, along with a soup-filled thermos, stuffing them in your backpack before heading to the meeting spot. 

You look around, searching for the lady you talked to earlier, wondering if she would make it in time. 

She arrives 2 minutes before your departure, panting a bit but smiling at you, waving as she walks over. "Hey there, ready to freeze up there?" 

"Definitely not." You two laugh as your guide speaks up, stating the hike rules and emergency tips. "And lastly, do not go anywhere alone. The hike is easy, but don't underestimate it! Safety is in numbers, always. Now, with all of that said, let's get hiking!" 

The way up is slow. People chat quietly while they walk, taking pictures and generally marveling about the views, you included. 

The wind is ice cold and makes your lungs feel a bit prickly when you breathe. Your cheeks are cold, a reminder that you were really there, enjoying a hike on a trip you made on your own. It makes you smile. 

You're halfway up when your newfound friend approaches you again.

"So, you came by yourself?" The girl asks. You nod, "yeah, I thought I would do something different…what about you?" 

"I travel alone all the time. First time here, though!" She smiles, "After I started going places alone, I just couldn't stop. It's way easier." She says. The guide announces your first stop to rest is just up ahead. 

As most of the group sits down to eat and drink, you and your friend sit on a fallen log at the edge of the trail. You pull out one of your bars while she takes a few swigs of her water bottle. 

You're laughing at her jokes when a crack calls your attention toward the trees.  You turn around to look, staring intently at the trees. Your friend’s gaze switches from you to the trees multiple times, “Bestie? You good?” 

“Did you hear anything?” You ask her, still searching. The chatter from the rest of the group dies down as you strain to hear anything from the trees again. “It’s probably a squirrel or something.” She shrugs.

“I think that was too heavy to be a squirrel.” You say, hearing it again as you get up from the log, picking up your backpack. She does the same, “Okay….maybe it’s a huge squirrel or a deer?” She says, starting to sound worried as well.

The cracking sounds get louder and more violent before a strong gust of wind hits both of you. A big thundering sound follows it. You realize what’s happening all too late.

“Avalanche! Run!” 

You both scream and make for it. The snow comes crashing down through the trees as you and your friend sprint through the trail, trying to catch up with the rest of the group. You look at the snow for a fraction of a second and slip. 

You fall to the ground. You can barely hear any screaming over the falling snow’s booming noise. You scream and try getting up again, putting your hands up to shield yourself from the snow. 

Another sound hits your ears before a blur launches itself toward you. The sound is blood-curdling, bone-chilling, roaring as loud as the snow coming for you. You feel the impact of said thing against your body, throwing you both off the edge. You hold onto it, whatever it was. Screaming and closing your eyes as you both flew over the edge. 

He had seen it coming, of course. While his brothers and sisters went for the hottest countries on whatever planet they landed in. He loved the snow. He had over two centuries of experience with it. 

He saw it coming. 

You are as light as he thought you would be. He holds you and your backpack against his chest as you fall off the snowy ledge. The cord of his wrist gauntlet catches against the stone. He snaps it off as you both get launched into the cave underneath the ledge.  

He lands hard on his feet, setting you down unceremoniously on the ground before rushing back to the cave entrance. The snow rages violently over as it falls from the edge, washing over anything in its way. He had been using this cave for a few days now. He knew this could happen. Would happen.

Still, he needed to close the entrance. 

The snow piles and pushes inside the cave. He aims his blaster toward the entrance’s ceiling and shoots, jumping over to your side as the stones crash down, stopping the snow from burying you both alive as he shields your body from the falling rocks. 

It’s too much. You cry and scream while keeping your face on the floor, hands shielding your head as the booming noises of cracking trees, snow, and falling rocks make your heart pound in every which way inside your ribcage. You get dragged closer by the man who saved you, and you hug the thigh he was crouching on the ground with, sobbing into it as you wait for the nightmare to be over. 

It feels like hours. It probably is hours long until the wreckage comes to a stop. You still hear the avalanche layers settling on top of the cave and its would-be entrance. The cave is pitch black. You can’t see a palm in front of your face. All you hear is your ragged breathing and the man’s -somehow- calm one. His is heavier, although slower than yours. he was big, you were sure he was from the blur you saw standing there before the rocks fell. His breathing had a dragging sound to it, a soft ‘ch ch ch’ that made your hairs stand on end. Oh God, what if he was asthmatic? 

“I- I think we’re okay now-” You say. He doesn’t reply. “Sir, are you hurt? Oh God-” You panic, patting around the floor for your bag, scooting away from him until you find it. “I’ve got a light in here. God, I hope it’s not broken!” You take a deep breath and try to remember where you placed it, counting the small bags on the front before reaching the fourth one. You pull its zip and reach for the light. The thick, now wet, gloves you wear make the metal almost slip from your grasp. 

“Please turn on, please turn on,” You pray as you push the button, successfully illuminating the wall in front of you. “Yes! Okay, now we can-” You turn around, looking for the man,

Finding something else entirely. 

It’s bigger than any man you’ve ever known in your life. Its skin is of a blueish hue with black mottling. It has protrusions that remind you of a hedgehog’s quills up its forearms, chest, and the sides of its face. It wore a mask along with dense-looking armor that looked battle-worn. Its chest heaved the same slow and steady breathing, making the quills drag against the black netting it wore. 

Your pupils dilate in dread as you perceive it whole. Your body freezes. Your breath hitches.

And you faint. 

The light falls from your hand as your body hits the floor. Your backpack acts as a hard pillow as the world darkens and comes to a stop. 

He watches as you turn into stone and pass out on your equipment, and only then does he move toward you. He grabs the small light you produced from your pack and turns it off with the click of a button, careful not to break it. He did not need light, not as long as he had his mask (even if he didn’t, if he was honest), and not as long as you were unconscious. 

‘Might as well save its power.’ He thinks. 

He takes a quick check over your form. Bruising was sure to occur. Your ankle was sprained, also expected. All in all, everything is fine. He’s glad about that. 

Now, for air.

He stands up and walks to the entrance again. While it wasn’t safe to leave the cave while the layers were still loose, and with the temperatures dropping outside, your chances of survival were low, even if his weren’t. But being wholly shut in wouldn’t do either, especially with your panicked breath. Screaming requires air. Lots of it. 

He stretches his palm over the cold stone, feeling around. A few well-placed holes would do well enough. Stepping back, his aim shines over the stone once more. 

Adjusting the width of each blast, he lasers perfect circles scattered on the wall. The snow outside melts, and fresh, cold air drifts in through the holes before more snow covers them once more. He reaches for his back pocket, retrieving several silver rings, and places them into the holes in the stone. Adjusting the desired length of each ring before pressing a button, he watches the holograms expand on his gauntlet until they surpass the snow outside. He checks each tube, satisfied when air flows steadily through all of them.

He turns back to you and walks over.

He couldn’t say what made him save you. He had been hunting in the mountains. He did see you and your group going up. But why did he risk himself to save you? He didn’t know. He found himself clutching the tree he was perched on when the snow went down, even though he would have been safe. He leaped before you fell to your knees in the snow. 

Crouching down, he takes a second to look at your face.

You groan, and he sits down, moving back to give you some space. You look around, seeing the thin light streaks coming from the wall. You look a bit to the side and squint, spotting the one figure you hoped was a dream. 

A scream rips from your throat as you panic once more, almost crushing your light in the process. You back up into the nearest wall and point your light at him, turning it on again. “What are you?! What-!”

It’s a strange creature, half man and half… something else. You had no idea what.

He lifts his hands up, and you grasp your light firmly as if it were a gun. “Don’t move-! Stay there! Who are you? What do you want?!” You ask. Demand. 

You hear audio shuffling before a distorted, “Easy…- Easy…” reaches your ears. You recognize the voice. Your instructor, the line spoken to the whole group while going through a particularly slippery part of the trail that morning. “What-...What are you? You’re not a man-, who are you?” You ask desperately. 

He shakes his head, and you want to cry harder, though he didn’t answer your second question. “Am I dead?” You sob. He shakes his head again and slowly points to the door. 

“-..-Thick S̴̨̛̛̞͉̗̜̦̘̤̤̱͉͖͒̍̑̆̑͌͆̃̕n̴̡̳̖͕̹̞͎̝̞͂̿̀̾̏̈̈́́͝ơ̸̝̣̓̔̾͊̈́̇̇̋̎̓͜͝w-.”

You sniffle, not peeling your eyes from him. “Are you going to hurt me? Please don’t-” He doesn’t reply, slowly lowering his hands again. You start to get nervous again before he points to the corner of the cave. Hesitantly, you cast the light to it, seeing the glint of the metal-like cord he had used to save you both. Your eyes widen as you try to remember the quick flashes of the occurred. You fell. The snow was coming. Something caught you, held you, and you fell over the edge. The light moves back to his form. “It was you-, so you saved me, okay-, but why?”

Again, no reply. 

The tears form cold, stiff streaks on your cheeks as you try to wipe them with the back of your gloves. You look around the cave. It wasn’t that big. You doubted you could stand up fully inside it, let alone someone as big as your…new friend. He had taken care of the air supply, but you weren’t properly trained for this. You feared you wouldn’t last until the morning. Not like this.

“You-, you made the holes in the walls, right? Can’t you get us out?” You ask him. He shakes his head. “Safer-...Here.” 

“How is it safer here? We’re buried to our necks in-...Snow.” He nods. 

“Snow is a good insulator, right?” He nods again. “Right…So you’ll get us out in the morning?” He doesn’t reply. “I’ll take that as a hopeful yes.” You say, setting your light down in the middle of the cave, pointing at the ceiling, illuminating the space the best it could. 

You open your backpack and set to planning your night here. You see your phone and gasp, trying to get it. No signal. 

You sigh as you look at the rest of your pack. You had your blanket, emergency bivy, and food and water were also fine. Nothing got broken during your rescue, thankfully. 

You take a look at your companion to find him also going through his own pack, though his equipment looked far different than yours. They almost seemed like…weapons. 

Oh, God.

“Do you come here often?” You ask. His head snaps at you. You freeze. 

He shakes his head, and you sigh in relief. “You don’t…hunt people, right?” 

He keeps staring. You wish you hadn’t asked. “Innocent people? You hunt innocent people?” Perhaps it was the trauma, the ice, the pain, or the sheer chaos of the situation you found yourself in. But judging an alien creature wasn’t as impossible as you thought it’d be. “Hunters- -Like me.” His mask croaks.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You hunt…other hunters? Human ones or, like, -really- like you? People like you?” 

“-Like me.” He repeats. 

“Your own species? Like a cop?”

A few seconds pass before you hear your own voice. “Like a cop.” Your eyes widen more. “So you’re a space cop, got it…Then what are you doing here on Earth? And in the -snow- of all places?”

A strange sound comes from him. A scoff. 

“Vaca̶̤͔͚͌̃͝ͅtion timee̷̛͖̬͙̞̞̯͙͉͓̓́̈́̀̚e̴̛̞͎͆̀͂̉̎̂͘̕͠͝e-” A young girl’s voice followed by laughter. 

You find yourself laughing nervously at the audio. A soft laugh that makes him tilt his head slightly. “Me too.” You say, “Ironically enough.”

You set out your equipment in silence before you unwrap your first sandwich. You look at your watch. 3 PM. Nice time to have a heavier snack, then you could eat the bars until the night and then eat your soup. And you’d still have your second sandwich! 

Your…second sandwich. 

“Hey.” You look at him again. He looks up from organizing his gear. “Do you have any food in that pack of yours? I have an extra one here.” You lift the wrapped sandwich to show him. 

He seems to consider before giving you a dismissive hand gesture, going back to his fiddling.

“I have plenty here,” You say. “I don’t think…someone as big as you shouldn’t go too long without eating something.” He looks at you again. His mask moves slightly. You weren’t sure if he was really looking at your hand or not.

“It’s just a turkey sandwich, are you vegetarian?” You ask, worried, for some reason. He makes a strange sound. Clicking and huffing came from his mask. Was he laughing? 

“Look, to me, you’re a carnivore -at least- but I can’t be too sure, right? You’re the first…alien I know.”

He shakes his head. “Not-, Vegetarian.” 

You nod, digging around your backpack for the other sandwich before tossing it to him. The speed with which he catches it is impressive enough. You blink, and his hand moves from the ground to beside his mask, catching the sandwich. 

He eyes it as you eat your own. For a second, you wonder if he’s allergic to anything in it. You’re about to ask when he moves again, sitting with his back turned to you. 

You frown in confusion as he sets the sandwich down on his thigh before starting to take the mask off. 

Each pop it makes has your eyes widening impossibly more. With everything that happened, you forgot the mask wasn't his -face-.

He sets the mask down, its impassive expression staring at you from the floor while he picks up the sandwich again, unwrapping it. 

You wondered what he looked like without it. It felt too rude to ask. Maybe he wanted to remain anonymous from you. 

Maybe the light hurt his eyes. Maybe he didn’t want to scare you.

Maybe he was just -shy-. 

The clicking sound- now much louder and clear, calls your attention back to reality. You watch as he apparently throws the whole sandwich into his mouth, if he really had one, and swallows it whole. 

If he chewed it, you didn’t hear it. But you do hear the biggest ‘gulp’ of your life coming from him. 

You jump a little bit when he picks up the mask again, snapping the tubes back on and turning around again.

You finish eating your own food and put the trash in your bag. "I need something I can…call you- you know, other than alien? That feels rude.” 

He shakes his head, and you lick your cold lips in thought. “How does Storm sound? I don’t think ‘Avalanche’ is any good.” You shrug, taking a swig from your water bottle. “I don’t think I should mention this to anyone, right?” 

He nods. You purse your lips again, “Look- I know the less contact between us the better, and I definitely shouldn't be asking these questions- but if I don't talk I think I'll go insane." 

Storm crosses his arms, seemingly in thought before he says a simple, firm, "Yes."

"...Are there more alien species? Do you know them? Seen any?"

"Yes. -Yes….Yes." 

"Wow." You whisper to yourself. "You're the most amazing and intense thing that ever happened to me…besides the avalanche, of course."

He relaxes, shifting a bit to sit against the stone wall. You do the same, resting against your pack. "Our government must know of you- are we friends? Our people?" 

He shakes his head. You sag. "Oh…that sucks" Storm tilts his head, and a series of cut audios gather your attention again. "Government- sucks." 

You laugh. His shoulders shake slightly. Maybe he was laughing as well? 

"This wasn't what I had in mind when I came here, but I'm glad you're here. Thank you for saving me," you say. He stares at you before nodding slowly.

You smile and look at his pack on the floor, "Hey, do you have water? I have some if you want." He shakes his head and pulls out a metal bottle from one of the pouches on his back. A canteen? 

“Do you want to lay out our things? We could see what we have and how we’re going to split it until tomorrow. I know the first rule is overpacking is good but…I don’t reeeally have that much,” you let out a nervous laugh.

He takes a second and stands on his knees. He is almost as tall as you'd be standing like that. He gathers his pack and throws it closer to you while he moves over.

You stare at him for a couple of seconds before the mask slowly turns to you. “Oh-, right, sorry- you’re just- okay never mind- So, I got my light, of course-, I got some energy bars, water, a map, a bivy, a blanket, a knife, a little emergency kit, and soup! Well-, more food if you can’t translate that.” You hold up the thermos like it was a prized trophy, "what do you got?"

He starts laying his own things out.

A dagger, cuffs of some kind, knives, a -whip-, the canteen he had shown you earlier, mini orbs that suspiciously looked like smoke bombs from movies, plus other things- probably weapons too, you had no idea the use of. And last, but not least, he offers you a jar. 

You put yours down and hold his. The lid is not nearly as simple as yours, it has a mechanism on top of it. You frown in confusion before he snorts and presses two buttons on top of it. 

The lid fizzes, and you gasp, looking up at him. He nods, and you slowly take it off, placing it on top of your blanket. The smell hits your nose, and you look at him again. "Jerky? Oh my God-, can I?" He nods. 

You carefully take a strip of meat from the jar. "What kind of meat is this? This isn't…human, right?" You gulp. He shakes his head and lifts his wrist. His gauntlet shows a hologram of a deer. 

"Ohhhh, wow, you're really a hunter, aren't you?" You marvel, putting the strip back in the jar before closing it again. Storm taps the same buttons, and it seals tight again. 

You place the jar on the floor along with everything else. The contrast between your equipment and his is stark. You laugh a bit. "Well, aren't we made for each other?" He snorts as you check your watch.

You look up and find his mask very close to you, also looking at your watch. "It's not as fancy as yours," you laugh, holding your wrist up for him to see. 

Being this close, you feel your face heat up. You look down at his torso when he gently grabs your wrist, inspecting it closer. "You- are you not um- cold? You're not exactly ah…layered up." 

He did wear some fur around his shoulders and waist, but other than that, only the netting and some armor. He does the clicking sound again- chuckling? 

The hand on your wrist firms it while the other pops your glove open, pulling it up and off your hand. You jerk a bit when he pulls the naked hand to his chest. "Oh- what-...Oh." 

Hot. He is hot. Literally. 

You can't tell if the netting is heated or if he's just a furnace. But he's incredibly warm. Your fingers twitch as you concentrate on the feel of his skin. It wasn't like yours, that was for sure. It was almost rubbery, and hot but texturized as well. It was…well, alien. The prickly quills he had also were interesting to stare at. 

What a Tarzan moment.

You take your hand back, putting your glove on again, "I'm jealous of that temperature. Even with all these layers, I'm still cold," you frown, "your planet must be scorching hot," you say. 

He takes a while but nods. 

He didn't exactly like sharing information, you learned. It was fair, he saved you- and he was an alien. Things were complicated. "I think you look great here though, in the snow," The glove feels cold compared to what you just experienced. 

He scoffs, crossing his arms as you think about the events of today over and over again before looking at him once more. "Do you have any family?" The question hits you like a train and blurts out of your mouth before you could filter it. "I mean- if you can tell me." 

He nods, and your eyebrows go up in surprise. Not that you thought he wouldn't have one. He had a belly button, so he couldn't have just…spawned from somewhere. You smile at the mental image of him just popping into existence.

You look back at your equipment, especially at the food. "Look, I know we're on 'not too much involvement' thing, but you don't have to turn away every time to eat. I won't tell anyone- though I'm sure the government must have blurry pictures of others like you in their archives somewhere already."

He's closer to you than before, having not moved away since your little touching moment. His presence is as grounding as it is exciting. It makes you alert and awake, even though you're so tired. 

Storm's mask turns to you slightly, considering. 

"Scary." 

You frown. "Scary? Your face is scary? But your mask is so…familiar? Is it too different from it?" 

He nods again. 

"Oh- well, I won't be afraid of you, you saved my life, and now we're here chatting and having an icy picnic covered in snow. I'd say this makes us best friends." You smile. He huffed.

What he does instead is lift his wrist gauntlet again. Another hologram pops up. 

"Ohhhhh my-" You look back up at his mask. Its cold expression almost mocks you. "Okay, you weren't lying when you said it was different- why do you guys make it like that? You know what- that's none of my business, sorry." You look back at the hologram. 

While you didn't know if it was really him- the hologram was all red-, the way their faces were just…made sense. The tusks, the teeth, the mandibles. You marvel at the quills on the eyebrows, just like they were on the rest of him. 

Something must have been wrong with you, but you didn't think he was ugly.

"I get the scary part. I'd freak out if I saw you in the dark, no offense." He chuckles deeply, the most you've seen him laugh so far. You smile again. "Thanks for showing me, now I won't pass out on you again if you take it off." He shuts it off. You almost made a sad noise at it.

Suddenly, all the excitement takes a toll on you. With your last burning curiosity sated, your eyes begin to get heavier. "Okay, I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off." You say. "I think I'm going to sleep a bit." 

He gets up, checking the air supply tubes in the stone. You worm your way into your bivy, leaving the blanket for him if he needs it. He probably wouldn't, but the thought eased you. "Wake me up if anything changes okay?" You say. He doesn't react. You take a painkiller and lay down again.

"...and please don't leave me here alone." You say, with a little more emotion than you anticipated. 

He turns his head and nods before going back to his inspection. 

You close your eyes for a second.

Just a second. 

You jolt awake when a hand closes around your shoulder. You blink several times, breathing in deeply as you focus on the mask before you again. "Hey- anything changed?" 

Storm shakes his head, pointing at your watch instead as you sit up. You check the time. 7:15 PM. Your ice cave definitely feels colder now.

You get up, taking your soup thermos out of the bag. Its lid made for a little bowl. You prayed it was still warm. 

You sigh in relief as you pour the soup on the lid. It was lukewarm, but the warmth spreading through your torso was priceless. You're on your second sip when you hear the same fizzy noise as before. Your eyes darted to your side where Storm was taking his mask off. 

You gulp as the second tube is snapped off. He's facing forward as he's sitting beside you. But still, you would see it.

You tip the cup back as you swallow your third sip, hoping the thick plastic would disguise your blatant staring. 

Storm's fingers slip under the metal, snapping it briefly before lifting it from his face. Your breath quickens quietly as your eyes follow the metal until it's placed on the floor. You stare at it before slowly looking back up. 

Storm is looking at you. 

Your eyes dilate as you take in every aspect of his face. The mandibles, the tusks, the sharp teeth peeking from behind tightly closed tusks. The blue hue from his body painted his face, fading into a cool white tone in the middle of his face. The edges of his head are shaped like a crown. A black crown that closed into the middle of his head, where the blues and whites were. 

And then the eyes. His eyes.

Unlike the rest of him, Storm’s eyes were yellow. Deep, electric yellow. The primal instinct in your brain told you this was wrong. His face was wrong. Well, he wasn’t human. You were coded to think anything with different features walking on two legs was weird. 

Your brain told you to run, scream or get help, to do something -against- him while the rest of you knew well that he was an ally. It was hard to go against every fiber of your being and stay still. 

‘He’s still your friend.’ You think. ‘He just looks a little different.’ 

Storm’s expression changes, and while you can’t grasp what the tusk movements must mean yet, you surely know what a skeptical eyebrow raise looks like. “I’m not freaking out, I swear.” You manage to say. You have no idea if he still understands you without the mask. 

He seems to, as his top tusks twitch and his eyebrows relax. He looks away and grips his own jerky jar. You’re suddenly reminded of your soup. You pour more soup onto the lid, gulping it down while trying your best not to openly stare at him.

It’s evident he’s also trying to ignore you while he eats. His tusks part and he inserts the chunks of jerky in. You can’t see any molars in your ogling. Maybe he was made for tearing out chunks of food and swallowing them like a crocodile? 

You gulp down more of your soup until it’s down to half of it. You shake the thermos a bit, doing your best to stir the soup before leaning it toward him. “Would you like some?” To your surprise, he’s also offering you his jar. You smile, nodding, “Let’s swap.” 

You trade bottles, picking out a piece of jerky while he brings the thermos closer to his mouth. He didn’t have an apparent nose, but maybe he just smelled things differently. He must have deemed it good enough for his mandible part, and he tips his head back, drinking the soup. You half expected it to spill over and make a mess, but having done this for however long he had lived, he knew what he was doing. 

You, on the other side, had no idea what you’d do without your lips.

After eating your fill and re-packing, you huddle close to him. Storm messed with his wrist gauntlet as you lost yourself in your thoughts once more. For once in your life, the silence was comfortable. Sure, you couldn’t exactly communicate, but that didn’t feel like a problem. 

You could communicate with your friends and family, but it still made you anxious at times. Next time you check your watch, it's about 9 PM. “I think we should sleep,” you say, getting his attention once more. “I’ve slept a bit and…fainted, but you haven’t slept yet.” 

Seeing him without the mask was as otherworldly as it was interesting. Seeing his expressions as he listened to you, then changing while he thought before finally setting as he nodded. 

You smile and crawl back to your bivy while he checks the air supply once more. You had no idea how you would get out of the cave tomorrow, but you trusted Storm and his high-tech equipment. And his muscles. The muscles were a big plus, too.

By the time he turns around, you’re inside your bivy, but you point to the blanket folded neatly on top of your backpack. “I know you’re well warm, but the blanket is over there if you need it.” He looks at it briefly before nodding at you. He hands you your emergency light and lays down on the opposite side of the cave, about two arm's lengths away from you. 

“Good night, partner.” You say before shutting the light off, getting a grunt in return. 

The cave was pitch black as you expected. You shuffle a bit in your bivy before settling down completely on your side. You wondered how people outside were doing. Did the avalanche make the news? Did your friends know? Was anyone else hurt during it? You were thankful to be alive, thankful for Storm, but you felt bad for everyone else. 

Tears prickled in the corners of your vision as you try so hard to fall asleep. It’s cold, you’re trapped in a cave with an alien. Not that Storm was a negative point. You’d be dead without him. But things were far from okay right now. 

You hear shuffling and wonder if Storm also has trouble sleeping. He’d been calm so far, never raising his voice or panicking. ‘Maybe he’s used to these situations.’ You think, given the scars he bears on his body. You didn’t want to think of what could hurt someone like Storm. 

Your chest feels tight. It’s hard to push the anxiety down. You almost want to talk to him again, but what would you say? What -could- you say? You were the one to suggest sleeping in the first place. Your heart beats faster, and you’re awfully aware of your surroundings, even in the dark. 

The walls are cold and wet. The air is a little stale. You can smell yourself as you can also smell Storm behind you. You can smell the thick rubbery scent of your gloves as they grip the bivy’s lining with all they got. Like you had gripped Storm earlier that day when he rescued you.

You swallow dryly, trying to breathe in and out to avoid negative thoughts. Things would be okay. You were alive, fairly warm, and you had a big alien as your personal bodyguard through a disaster. You hear more shuffling. The sound of the emergency blanket being unfolded hits your ears. You wait a couple of seconds, eyes darting around in the dark before you open your mouth to ask him if he was okay. 

You’re in the middle of breathing your first word when you feel the blanket getting laid on top of your bivy. Storm smooths out the blanket on top of you before laying down again, closer to you this time. You’re at loss for words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. 

You feel his breath against the top of your beanie, so his chest must be somewhere in front of you now. You bite your lip, feeling the knot in your chest loosen the tiniest bit. You were not alone. Things were going to be okay.  You focus on his breathing pattern, so even and calm. Constant. The sound his tusks occasionally make is soothing over the deathly silence of the cave. You don’t remember closing your eyes, nor do you remember falling asleep. 

The way your bladder burns wakes you up. Storm’s breathing is heavier now, asleep. It pains you to move, like getting your pet out of your lap after it finally got comfortable. 

As soon as you move, his breathing stops. Then resumes in that light, calculated rhythm. Awake. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, worming out of your bivy, patting around for your light. You go to the far corner of the cave and do your business, covering it with loose dirt with your boot, thanking the universe Storm didn’t move an inch from where he was. 

Taking your pants off in the unbelievable cold of a 3 AM shut-in ice cave was no easy business. Curse bodily functions to the end and back. You do your best to push the burning shame down and head to your backpack, sanitizing your hands. 

You steal a glance to your side while you think, catching Storm looking directly at you. Your spine shivers a bit, a mix from the cold and his gaze. You take another sip of water and crawl back into your bivy, mindful of your ankle.

It makes your face heat up more to see how close he’s been to you for all these hours and how he doesn’t care enough to move away, even now that you disrupted him awake. 

You lick your lips and clutch your light, looking at him again before shutting it off. Your face is still hot from all of it, but you listen intently to his breathing and clicking. You hoped he wouldn’t move away from you just yet, at least until you fell asleep. 

You feel the warmth coming from his chest, moving your head forward so you could be closer to it, trying to chase away the rest of the cold from your suit again. That pee break cost you some precious degrees. 

You’re still sulking internally when he finally moves. Your eyes widen in the dark as he spreads the blanket over you again. You smile and close your eyes, only to open them again as widely as before when you feel his arm drape over you.

He grunts, and suddenly you’re being dragged forward by that same arm. Your forehead hits something, and you instantly know it's his chest. You swallow hard. It’s as hot as it was earlier, rumbling with each breath. 

“Warm.” He croaks. You shiver at how deep his real voice is. You nod fervently against his chest. The arm stays around you. 

It takes you several minutes of internal struggle to calm down again. Your face is hotter, both from your embarrassment and his body temperature. Your ears turn back on when you hear a faint noise.

You squint, leaning in closer, and the sound gets louder. 

His heartbeat. 

Your body relaxes, almost melting against him.

His arm tightens the tiniest bit around you. You press your cheek against his chest, feeling his mandibles graze against the top of your beanie. 

The rest of the night goes by too fast for your liking. 

He wakes you up at 7 AM sharp. You almost want to cry when you realize the arm is no longer holding you, that his heartbeat is not against your ear still. 

He packs his equipment, and so do you, leaving only the map out. “We were here yesterday.” You say, pointing at the map. “The hotel is here, and I think the equipment stall is here?” You felt like you were explaining your destination to a taxi driver. 

You look up at him. He’s masked and ready to leave. So are you.

“How are we going to do this? Or, well, how you’re going to do this?” You ask. Storm makes a punching motion toward the stone. You almost can’t believe your very eyes. “Oh.” 

Storm retracts the tubes and puts them away in one of his bags. This was it. 

You stand at the side as Storm readies himself. He pushes some buttons on his gauntlet. You brace yourself as it makes a firing-up noise. 

Storm steadies himself and times the punch with the gauntlet’s blast. 

You close your eyes at the noise, protecting your head with your hands before you’re snatched from the ground once more. 

You open them again when blinding light covers your eyelids. Everything is white as your eyes adjust. When colors flood your vision, you realize that not only you’re out of the cave but you’re in the air. Everything moves too fast. 

Storm holds you up as he lands harshly in the snow piled below between trees. You shake the snow off your face as he works you both out of the thick snow bank. He squats again, and you hold tightly onto his neck before he jumps once more.

You struggle not to scream this time as well.

Storm lands firmly onto the snowy forest floor. He places you down gently as he surveys the area before relaxing once more. You look around, looking at the mountainside, following the trail of broken rocks until you see the cave's would-be entrance, quickly getting topped with more falling snow. “We were there?” You ask, out of breath. Storm nods. You turn to him. “Good legs.” You compliment. He huffs behind the mask. 

You feel buzzing coming from your backpack, frowning in confusion before you remember your phone. Placing the pack on the floor, you quickly check it, watching as the multiple messages and missed calls finally load into your screen. You smile, choking on your breath before looking at Storm again. 

You avoid your hurting ankle as you surge forward and wrap your arms around him again. He barely moves, not stepping back or stopping you. His hands hesitate at his sides before coming up and resting them on your shoulders, pressing you against him once before letting go. 

You look up at him, seeing him at full height in daylight felt unreal. “Thank you so much. I owe you everything. You saved me. You had no obligation to, but you did. Thank you so much.” You bury your face into his chest again, feeling it rumble. You smile before he tenses up, and you both hear the helicopter sound from far away. 

You let him go, looking up at the sky before looking back at him. Your heart tore into pieces. “You can go now.” The tears sting your eyes. “I’ll be fine from here.” He looks back at you.

“I’ll never forget you.” You sob, “Thank you again, for everything.” 

The helicopter gets closer. You watch as he disappears in front of your very eyes. The blue skin and armor blend with the snow and trees behind him before the reflective figure jumps up one tree to another, and another, until you lose track of it in the distance. 

Cold tears slide down your face as you hobble your way to a clearing, throwing your arms up when the helicopter comes into view. 

The rest of the day goes by too slowly for your liking.

You’re taken back to the hotel, where a makeshift hospital has been set up. You’re asked questions, to which you reply either ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I was buried in the snow all night’. You text your friends and relatives back while your ankle is tended to. You see the hiking girl from yesterday when you’re getting cleared from IV hydration hours later. 

She screams in surprise, coming to hug you. ‘How did you make it?! Oh my God, we thought you were dead! I’m so happy to see you!” She cries, and so do you. After talking for a while, she shakes her head. “I’m cutting the damn trip -short-. I’m going the fuck home, and so should you. The flights are crazy, but there’s a company giving preference to the victims and their families.” She informs you. 

One hour later, she hugs you one last time before leaving. 

You do as she says, cutting the trip short as well, needing to process and recover from everything that happened. You’re promised heaven on earth by the hotel and the flight companies for future trips. Your friends scoff at the very thought of it. “Why the hell would you go back there? That’s insane of them to offer you packages like that.” One of them says.

You nod along the next few weeks until things slowly blend into normality again. You don’t tell anyone about what happened that night, and people don’t bother you about it. You look at your bag in your wardrobe every time you open it, thinking back to him, wondering if he also thought about you.  

Six months of this go by. Followed by another six months. 

One day, you open your wardrobe and pull your bag out again, dusting it for your trip. People worry about your decision of going back there. Some worry it might reopen wounds rather than closing them for good like you told them it would. Some others just thought you were crazy.

Crazy or not, you packed your bag and left. The flight took off and landed. You found yourself at the hotel, looking at the same clerk in the eyes again while she checked you in again, welcoming you back to the hotel. 

You look at the hiking lists, finding them slightly different, but still running. You check in for solo hiking.  You pack your bag accordingly this time, filled with all the necessities a survivor could need before you take off. 

The forest is peaceful, and the track is fresh beneath your boots. You’re enjoying soup fondly at the end of the track when you hear that noise. The rumbly, clicking noise that you heard in your dreams for the past year. Always followed by the steady sound of a strong heartbeat. 

You turn around, smiling when blue hues and armor flood your vision once more. ----------- If you read it till here, you're a champ lmao

Thanks for reading <3 muah muah

more work like this here

[writingsbychlo]

okay but the world needs a how would the 🐍 boys react to a taylor swift concert (and if you categorized them by album i would also not be mad)

😘💋

for you, my love? anything 😌

slytherin boys + taylor swift concert/albums

draco: draco is impartial. it’s not his typical music taste but he will hum to songs when you play them, he knows you like them. he hires someone to make sure he gets really good tickets and says you can take anyone when he surprises you with them. when you say you want to take him, he fucking loves it. he doesn’t show it, but knowing you’d share something so special with him, it makes him so happy. would wear a basic fit, lets be real. would pay someone to custom make your outfit for your favourite album, though. also, he bought tickets to a tour spot of a place you’ve always wanted to visit and he makes it a whole vacation. splashes cash for extra packages. rich boy vibes. he’d never admit it to anyone but he has listened to All Too Well (10 min version) when he’s in his emo moments.

he’s giving Red, though, and would make the effort to sing along to any songs he knows enough of just to see you smile. like tell me he isn’t giving the youthful innocence of 22 but also I Knew You Were Trouble, like???

mattheo: has an alarm set for tickets and tries to get them so eagerly with you. again, not his usual music taste, but his has been known to scream-sing Shake It Off when drunk. would wear a toned down outfit to match whatever you’re wearing and would absolutely wear any bracelets you make him. holds all your belongings so you don’t have to worry about anything. holds your hand the whole time and sings with you. you’d stay in a fancy hotel overnight the day before and after, he wanted to make it special. buys matching tour hoodies with you.

he’s giving Fearless, like lets be real, The Way I Loved You was written for him. he isn’t ashamed to admit he loves that album, though. that dedication of slightly toxic but mostly just obsessed love, sweet and adorable first love feelings, y’know?

theo: asked if you’d seen there was a tour coming up and chuckled at your excitement when you screamed yes. gets tickets when you don’t manage to and makes a joke like ‘how many boyfriend points did this just earn me?’ spoiler: it’s a lot. wears all your bracelets that you make on one arm and helps you make trades with people. researches the set list to make sure he knows all the lyrics to any possible songs that might play so he can sing with you, but already knows quite a lot. not ashamed to listen to her if he’s with you or missing you. buys you any merch you want, has so many bags to be taken home.

his album is Folklore, just because I think the hazy indie suit him. august is friends-to-lovers with him after spending the summer with his family in italy. change my mind, you can’t.

enzo: baby boy goes all out for this. he’s so lover coded, but he knows all the albums very well. listens to her music with or without you and is proud of it. you sat together to book tickets and try to double your chances and it worked. not only wears and trades bracelets but makes them with you, makes his own set to swap with people too. looks for celebrities and gets to excited when he spots them. he’s the kinda guy to propose during Love Story. matching outfits, matching merch. you guys both have lost your voices the next day and he can’t stop grinning about it. is convinced taylor made eye contact with him. would wear a custom outfit with you, too.

his album is Lover. no doubt. he’s a cutie pie and he’s so pastel-sunshine-sparkles-love. Paper Rings? he belts that. You Need To Calm Down? he bodies it with so much sass just to see you giggle. London Boy? I don’t even need to say.

tom: hears you didn’t get tickets and starts pulling strings to get them for you because you were sad. tries to be casual and just leave them on your desk one day, but can’t help his smile when you burst into his dorm at 11pm and kiss him stupid for it. is willing to let you pick his outfit as long as you make it ‘normal’. you guys match but in a subtle way. like mattheo, books a hotel for before and after, and also will hold your things. doesn’t sing along but he’s not a buzzkill, y’know? stands with his arms wrapped around your waist the whole time, sways slightly to the music for you. he will spin you occasionally. so defensive when you’re looking at merch, growls at someone to fuck off while they still have teeth for telling you to hurry up and pick. gets a hoodie when you tell him it would look good on him and actually wears it for you. also buys the special packages like sound checks etc.

Reputation. you’re gonna look me in my eyes and tell me Look What You Made Me Do isn’t his anthem? if he had a gun to his head he would name that as his favourite song.

bonus for you bc we’re talking abt him right now: all I’m gonna say is reggie + enchanted. that’s it, that’s all.

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 5 Review

‼️ SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER ‼️

I’m not going to lie, this was the best chapter of the first volume so far. Not only was it better than the old chapters because we had much more to see and think about, but it’s also because it had some soft intimate moments mixed with happy scenes and not to mention felt longer than the others.

I would like to point out that I was completely in the right to explain why it was perfectly reasonable for Amalia to be worried that Aurora would take her place. In my chapter 4 review, I mentioned how Aurora had no right to lead the kingdom without Amalia even if it was in her legal right to do so. Aurora doesn't fully grasp the beliefs of the Sadidas. If she banishes Amalia, the final member of the royal Sadida family, from the kingdom, she will lack crucial insight into the kingdom's governance, particularly regarding the functioning of the Tree of Life.

It's important to note that while Yugo may not be a Sadida or a Twelvian, he has at least demonstrated the bare minimum level of cultural understanding and interaction that surpasses Aurora. Having lived among the Sadidas and rescued them multiple times, he has even communicated with King Oakheart without difficulty. However, it's worth noting that not all Sadidas may fully accept Yugo despite everything he has done. A good example of this would be what @vinillain has said about the topic in their post. I actually recommend you to see what they have to say about it.

Aurora has told Amalia to go back to her adventures, implying that she doesn’t need Amalia IN HER OWN HOME. Not only is the blue cow trophy wife a dumbass, but she’s also extremely unaware of the consequences she could receive if she lets her go.

It’s completely ridiculous but insane to kick the only remaining royal family of the Sadida kingdom if you don’t know how to keep the very living thing that keeps its people breathing.

This just keeps me wondering what the hell is Aurora’s goal besides ruling another kingdom other than the Osamodas one. Is there even another goal? Because if there isn’t, you gotta keep the only member of the royal family around you if you don’t want to fuck a kingdom up babes.

Aurora is legitimately an embarrassment to all blondes out there. They are already tired of hearing the annoying stereotype of “being dumb blondes” so don’t make it worse for them.

I hate what this is implying and I hate how Amalia explains it to Yugo.

Amalia already told Yugo in Season 4 that the sadidas protect the trees with their lives. And now, she’s here specifying to him that once a Sadida dies, they are still very much present in other ways.

Tot I swear on my ass, if this turns out to be some kind of foreshadowing for Amalia’s death, I’m booking a plane ticket straight to France. However, if this turns out to be some sort of implication that Amalia will replace or be the official guardian of the Tree of Life, I might be into it. We’ll just have to see where her words will go.

I loved how Yugo immediately went to console her and brought her into his arms. My guy doesn’t hesitate at all anymore and I’m so proud 🥰 He’s now able to give her the love she deserves 💕

This is the first time he mentions the past, and I'm glad he remembers how she used to be and can see the good in her, even when she was less mature.

Look at how he admires her in this very moment! He’s absolutely smitten 💕💕

“But already full of courage.” Yeah, the fearless sassy adventurer is definitely his type lol

I’ve been seeing a lot of people talk about the pregnancy situation with Aurora and with Amalia as well. The recurring references to pregnancy in certain chapters have led some to speculate about their significance. They are so vaguely placed in some instances but still present that the mentions almost appear like they’ve been strategically placed, leading to the belief that they may play a crucial role in upcoming events.

Here, we have Amalia crying her tears out at the idea that Aurora is perfectly justified to regain her position as queen simply because of her alleged pregnancy.

Just this scene alone makes me believe that Amalia has all the right to get pregnant as well. This is literally the scene that’s pushing the idea of her getting a kid.

Amalia. Get pregnant already. YUGO HELP HER-

I genuinely hate the fact that Amalia believes Armand would’ve let Aurora become the leader in his place because she’s harbouring his “child.”

Like no babe that doesn’t make any sense.

Throughout Season 4, we were able to clearly understand that Armand and Aurora did have feelings for one another but that didn’t mean Armand thought she was worthy to take his place if he was gone.

There’s a reason why there was only one throne in the Sadida kingdom.

There’s a reason why he was the only one conversing the most with other symbols of power or influence such as Master Joris, Yugo, and the cow king.

There’s a reason why he only addresses himself when he’s talking about the sadida leadership.

There’s a reason why he says “my people” rather than “our people”.

There’s a reason why he told Amalia, straight to her face, that she’s got it from here right before he sacrifices himself.

Armand never thought about Aurora when it came to any kind of leadership.

And sure, even if the child is real (because I still do not believe that wench), that doesn’t mean Armand was expecting the child to take over for him, much less Aurora, when Amalia was still in the picture.

Man was just horny that’s it.

Oh oop- drama???

Omg no this is genuinely such a good moment.

Amalia accidentally tells Yugo that he’s a stranger in the eyes of the royal Osamodas family and supposedly the other leaders as well and Yugo simply accepts this fact while she’s over here internally cursing herself for saying that to his face.

Because Amalia knows she’s right. And Yugo knows it just as much as her, if only more. Despite how Yugo wants to help Amalia in the situation she’s in, he’s aware that his very existence is a disturbance to the other leaders. (Which is a parallel to what happened with the Eliatrope goddess and the other gods around her.)

It greatly bothers Yugo to not be able to help his wife because of what he is and it is pretty understandable. There are people who are clashing with Amalia so he’ll obviously want to fight back.

While we're on the subject of who’s more of a stranger than the actual alien, I’d like to point out that even the royal Sadida staff treats Yugo like he’s part of the family. When Yugo and Amalia were having their moment, Renate (or Canar, I can’t remember who is who these two are just always together) enters the sacred grounds and calls for them, reminding them to be a part of the wedding their friends are having. But the way Renate (or Canar) addresses them is not by their royal status, but simply by their names.

This is an important detail to be aware of because Renate/Canar had no reason to justify why he called them by their names alone.

It just goes to show that some royal servants can be comfortable calling Yugo and Amalia this way without receiving any consequences. It also implies that only the servants who have interacted and gotten along with Yugo and Amalia when they were younger, are allowed to address them by their names.

And I love that fact so terribly much.

Amalia is a queen who understands personal relationships with servants and doesn’t think the idea is a bad thing. She has always been looking forward to speaking to her servants and befriending them since she was a child. Renate, Canar, and Evangelyne are examples of this.

Another detail that can be pointed out in this scene is what Renate/Canar said next: there was a wedding the two are supposed to attend later in the day.

This wouldn’t have been such a big thing to think about if it wasn’t for the fact that Yugo mentioned to Grougal that the two people in question who are getting a wedding, are two of his and Amalia’s friends.

Literally what? Who?!? Who are those friends??? That literally came out of nowhere!

It can’t be Eva and Dally because they already got married ages ago. So who could they be? Some friends who the brotherhood of the tofu met during one of their adventures? New characters that we’re going to see in Season 5 if it ever gets released? Or simply new characters that we’re going to discover in the manga? I’m throwing all the possibilities in the air because these two individuals cannot be normal civilians that Yugo and Amalia decided to plan a wedding for. Yugo precisely stated that these people are their friends.

Because of the Brotherhood’s lack of presence, one might assume that the couple getting married could consist of a Sadida and an Eliatrope, which would explain why Yugo and Amalia are familiar with them.

The Eliatropes and Sadidas depicted in this panel appear to be getting along, as they are all gathered in circles surrounded by Sadidas who seem to be accepting of their presence.

@aphilayx circled the exact amount of small groups that contained sadidas and eliatropes conversing together.

We can also believe that the marriage is unlikely to have any of the brotherhood’s friends who they met in their adventures take part in the ceremony, as was the case with Tristeva and Yumalia’s weddings. It appears that only Alibert, Adamaï, and Chibi, who are not from the kingdom, will be participating.

All of these points only encourage the idea that the marriage Yugo and Amalia would participate in could be between a sadida and an eliatrope.

…if the eliatropes weren’t children.

The eliatropes are not adults yet. Only a few months, or possibly a year, have passed between Season 4 and the webtoon. The eliatropes are not ready to marry anyone.

But then again, an interracial marriage would still make sense. Because why would any other race be here? I don’t see anyone else. The room we were shown only displayed sadidas and eliatropes. The only other person who isn’t an eliatrope, a sadida, or even a dragon, is Alibert (poor guy’s the only Enutrof there lol). He sticks out like a sore thumb 😭

Speaking of the room, we finally get to see Chibi and Grougal! It's great to have more opportunities to see them, especially since they were only featured in the first episode of the Ovas and one episode of Season 4 until now. In both of those times, they barely spoke or said a line. But here, we can finally see them having more moments and SPEAKING.

Well, only Chibi is talking but I think that’s pretty understandable since Grougal seems to be less talkative than him cuz he’s…well a baby dragon.

Grougal chews on wood when he can’t eat anything else…

Honestly, that’s relatable for all human babies. And then we got Chibi over here who decided to snitch on him for trying to eat Az. I never thought the future inventor would be able to snitch like that, how embarrassing.

DUDE WHY ARE YOU BRINGING DOWN GROUGAL LIKE THAT?! BRO’S JUST TRYNNA BE A DRAGON-

I’ve never seen Yugo get this mad at Grougal damn. I only saw Adamaï acting like that in season 2...daddy’s mad.

Yugo gives off the vibe of being the responsible older brother who had to act mature to help the parents handle the younger kids. He’s such a big brother to them both to the point where he’s making me think he’ll be such a good househusband father.

He’s even compromising with them!! Telling Grougal to wait a bit until the food can be ready.

Please that is such a fatherly thing to do!! They usually do this when the mother isn’t watching lol. Yugo’s over here telling Grougal to wait just a bit longer so he could be able to eat whatever he wants at the banquet.

By the way, I bet the feast will only be filled with drinks and fruits based on the food we’ve seen in the webtoon trailer.

Ruel had once complained that all the sadidas ate were soups so I guess that’s also another thing these people eat. The only time I’ve seen a sadida eat meat was Amalia in the first episode of the Ovas cutting a cooked animal in Ruel’s contraption.

So yeah, Grougal’s gonna starve either way lol

Also I’m definitely using this panel as my lock screen 💕💕

Look at him, he’s about to ground him before Alibert can.

Just cuz of this scene alone, it made me think that’s how he’s gonna act if he ever gets a kid(s) with Amalia. So if his kid misbehaves, he’d make that frowning face lol

And now we’re back to these imbeciles.

It irks me that these two blue-skinned clowns are being served and taken care of by the sadidas. They got THEIR OWN SUITE ARE U KIDDING ME-

The blue cow king even had some food prepared by the sadidas for his goofy ass ride! Stop treating the sadida servants like they are your own ones!!

Aurora is as unlikable as always, ordering the people to prepare her room.

I swear not even younger Amalia used to order her people like that. She used to get along with them and even talk to them as if she was about to spill some tea. But Aurora? Cow is so entitled that she’s even acting like that to people who are not even from the same race as her.

Blue cow mentioned that the chest the Sadida servant was carrying, had a “kougnard” in it (in English it’s a “skrot”).

We couldn’t see what it looked like but it clearly scared the shit out of that sadida woman. So I took the time to search up what a “Kougnard” was and it turns out it was actually a very ugly bat creature.

A “kougnard” is an animal you can use for transportation or a companion you can bring around while adventuring. Their main use is transportation though so they carry you from point A to point B if you can’t find a zaap gate near you.

They originally came from Ecaflipus, the Ecaflip God’s dimension. The kougnard that Aurora has is a newborn one which would explain why it could fit into a chest.

For a visual example, this is what a kougnard looks like in its adult form 👇

So yeah, pretty ugly.

Like ew wtf no wonder the sadida woman shit her leaves. Sorry for any player who uses these things but I don’t see how you can even touch one of them, let alone look at them for more than fifteen seconds. They look like ugly crusty bats that are fighting for their lives just to breathe.

Also what’s up with Aurora keeping familials in chests?? Wtf?? Isn’t she pro-animal or whatever?? Literally what’s up with that?? What’s so special about a living baby kougnard that she has to keep it in a chest???

That thing is even ugly as a baby, just look at how that sadida woman reacted when she saw it. Literally freaked her the hell out.

Apparently, Aurora wears the animal on her head in the next chapter according to what the next chapter’s cover entails. She seems to have something in her head and @geekgirles deduced that if we focus our attention on the top of her head, we can see claws.

I swear if that blue cow is actually looking down on people in that panel while having an ugly crusty-ass bat on her head, I’ll be laughing my ass off at this goofy behavior.

[deathblacksmoke]

call me when you get the chance

pairing: noah sebastian x nick ruffilo x fem reader

cw: polyamorous relationship, long distance yearning, it’s pretty fluffy my friends

taglist: @concretenoah / @ladyveronikawrites / @lma1986 / @monotoniscreaming / @xxrainstorm / @agravemisstake

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future fics!

author’s note: thank you lady v once again for the beta; i added some pitt back in just for you. and thank you @darksigns-exe for the poly boyfriends brainworms. no smut in here - wild change of pace. and i’ll probably be writing more little bits of these sweet babes at some point 🤍 i got euclid on the brain so title from that, obvi. enjoy!

**************************************************************

Nick sends a postcard from every city.

Missing you from Atlanta! Love, Nicholas.

It makes you feel warm and loved, every time you open your mailbox to another card from another city, with your partner’s pretty writing on the back.

You imagine him standing in the store for ages, sifting through the cards, trying to pick the perfect one for your gallery wall. You imagine Noah picking one out as a joke, and Nick scoffing, putting it back irritated.

No, man, she’s particular about her wall. Remember?

It makes your chest swell. You long to be there, to play mediator like you do when they’re both home with you. They need it sometimes, and you’re sure Jolly could use the break every now and again.

Noah sends memes. They’re ones you would never see otherwise because you won’t step foot on Twitter, but they make you smile and remind you of him, his stupid sense of humor, and the way his face lights up when he laughs. You close your eyes and imagine it, his eyes scrunching closed with his laugh, and your chest tightens.

They always send a selfie when they get off stage, and another before bed, sometimes a FaceTime if you’re still up. They don’t show you their intertwined hands. They know it makes you jealous and weepy, but you’re so grateful that they have each other. You imagine them kissing when the call ends and you cry anyway.

***

When you couldn’t make it to the show you had all planned for, you thought that was it. Work gets in the way again, sends you out of town, but you’ll see them when they come home to you and all will be okay.

The show looks incredible. You brave social media just this once to see clips of your boys, weep in bed in your hotel room. You stay up late to see them before you sleep—they tell you they wish you were there, they miss you, they love you. You catch a glimpse of a love bite on Nick’s chest and wish it could have come from you. You fantasize about quitting your job. You get closer every day.

The postcard comes two days later, a pop-art rendition of the Pittsburgh skyline, Nick’s little note scrawled across the back. It feels silly to have but you knew he wouldn’t dare to break the tradition he’s created.

Wish you were here! Love always, your Nicholas.

You don’t know how much longer you can go without them, holding back tears as you put the card in its frame, giving it its place on the wall.

You feel helpless and hopeless until you get an email, the airline notifications you had set up on cost changes doing you a solid, for once. Flight to LAX, suspiciously affordable, landing at 2 PM on the 8th of October.

It’s not a question. You don’t think twice. You have the PTO, and your boss can’t possibly deny you again. And if they do, fuck it, you’ll really dig your heels in about them needing another girl working on the tour. You’ll get Lana on your side this time around. They can’t say no to you both.

You book the ticket, arrange a guest list spot with Matt and buzz with excitement in preparation for your surprise.

***

You never tire of watching them perform.

The way Noah owns the stage, running from stage left to stage right, commanding the crowd to chant and jump with him. Nicholas, his long hair swaying with each rock of his neck to the beat of the song. His slender fingers grip the neck of his bass as he bounces his leg, growling backing vocals going straight through you. You wish you could be at every show. You swell with pride and know you couldn’t have picked two better boys to share your life.

You head to the green room when they come back out to say their thank yous and goodbyes. You hate to miss the photo slides but you helped pick most of the photos, anyway. Lots from your private collection and you think maybe you owe some of these people a “you’re welcome.”

Sitting on the old, worn leather couch, you start to panic. You’ve never surprised them before. Noah hates surprises, but you hope at least you’re a good one.

Folio comes through the door first, followed by Jolly, and the door swings back closed. Shocked at first when they see you, Folio’s face breaks out into a huge grin before turning on his heels.

“Yo, Noah, you’re gonna wanna see this—” he yells as he swings the door back open, to reveal Nick, sweaty and looking exhausted, but when his eyes land on you—

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

You can barely make it out above the roar of noise in the hallway. You don’t know where Noah is, but Nick looks as gorgeous as you’ve ever seen him. You need to take a deep breath but find your throat stopping you as your vision starts to blur. The look on his face as he crosses the room to you melts your anxiety in an instant. You haven’t seen him in so long. And he’s here. He’s right here with you.

When he reaches you, he sinks to his knees at your feet. His fingers digging into your thigh, eyes glazed over as he looks up at you, you lean down to meet him halfway.

The feeling of his lips on yours makes you feel dizzy. The feel of the wetness on his cheeks when you cup his face makes you want to sob, but you don’t, you lick into his mouth and bask in the sound of his gasp.

“Where the fuck were you,” he speaks into your mouth when he pulls away from you.

His fingers are gripping your thigh painfully. You know you’ll bruise, you wince, but it’s Nick and you don’t care. You’ll press your fingers there when you get home and you’ll think of him and—

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was flirting with the pretty bartender. I think you’d like her, Nicky, do you think Noah will go for a fourth?”

He’s leaning in for another kiss when you hear the green room door slam back open, thundering steps getting closer and closer until Nick is jostled forward, Noah’s head resting on his shoulder, eyes focused on you.

“You were a very naughty girl, keeping this secret from us,” Noah says, his head angling to press kisses and nip at Nick’s neck. Nick grins and you watch as the hand that was digging into your thigh takes Noah’s hand and laces their fingers.

When you’re far away, it makes you jealous. When you’re right here, when you have them both in front of you, that’s the furthest thing from your mind.

When you kiss Noah and he smiles into it, when the hand not laced with Nick’s threads through your hair, when Nick nips at your neck while Noah kisses you, you’ve never felt more at home.

Because they are your home.

“Nicky let me pick your postcard this time,” Noah tells you when he pulls away.

“You’ll hate it,” Nick says, but he’s grinning as he stands up to rummage through his backpack.

When he returns to you and holds it out, it’s a silly little card, but both their names are signed this time.

Loving you from LA. Love, your Nicholas and Noah.

Noah’s grinning as wide as you’ve ever seen. It’s your favorite of the bunch.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Truth of the Matter

A Four Part Miniseries

@wonderland-girl143-blog @gregre369 @420-hun

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy stood in Steve's living room watching Eddie. He was sitting cross-legged on the coffee table pouring over his spellbook, his tongue poking out.

"You know, I have perfectly good couches," Steve said, crossing his arms, and Eddie hummed without looking at him. "He's lucky he's so cute."

"Okay. . .okay, it sounds like this spell is going to be difficult, especially with all of us, and it says I need to be. . .stronger for this. Fuck, I have to be a certain level? Well, what fucking level am I?" Eddie asked. "And how do I gain experience? More spells? You know, whoever wrote this book should have had this damn thing coded. You know, write in the margins which ones are for beginners."

"Well, considering the few spells that you have done, I think you're very much still a beginner," Robin said.

"If this is too much, we can wait. . .save up money. . . Buy plane tickets," Steve said.

"Baby, we're going to see this through, and your mother's waited long enough. . .you're worth it, Steve Harrington. . .now, shut up, I'm thinking," Eddie said.

"Oh, oh! I think I remember your father mentioning something about using magical creatures like conduits," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, no, I'm not using either one of you like that. And if my father suggested it, then I'm definitely not going to do it," Eddie scoffed.

"Well, what if we want to do it?" Steve asked.

"I can do the spell myself," he replied.

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean you should," he said.

"How in the hell is this relationship supposed to work if we're both equally stubborn?" Eddie asked with a scowl.

"Well, if we're both determined enough, we'll make it work," Steve replied.

"Eddie, it sounds like we both want to do this," Chrissy said softly.

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Very," Chrissy said, and Nancy smiled. "I want to do everything that I can to help Steve find his mom or dad. Not just because we're both fae but because it's the right thing to do."

"Thanks, Chrissy," Steve said softly and then paused. "Wait, what do you mean, mom or dad? My dad's dead, remember?"

"Oh. Did I not mention?" Chrissy asked with a frown.

"Mention what?" He asked.

"Fae can have children with anyone regardless of their gender. I had two mothers," Chrissy replied. "And some fae are what they themselves call genderfluid. . .depending on what they feel like. So, this person could be your mother, father, or both. Being transgender and queer is also more commonly accepted amongst fae. It's because of their beliefs that the fae had to remain hidden in the shadows, hiding with their illusion and glamor magic. They would come out of the shadows to help lost humans, whether they be fae, humans, or Wiccans, especially if they're children and rejected by their community because of who they love."

"Wow," Steve breathed. "Okay, so you know a lot more than I do."

"Do the fae have like their own city or country I could move to?" Robin asked.

"I don't know. If they do, it's probably hidden," Chrissy said. "There wasn't much in my mother's journal."

"Okay, let's do this shit. . .let's go find this Steve’s mommy or daddy. . .even more so now. Although, I suddenly realized that I'm going to be meeting my boyfriend's parent for the first time, and I hadn't even taken him on a date yet," Eddie said.

"And I just found out that my girlfriend neglected to tell me that she could get me pregnant," Nancy said.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! It slipped my mind. . .I was going to tell you, and then this happened," Chrissy said, looking guilty. "And besides, we can only get each other pregnant if we both wanted to. . .no accidents!"

"I figured you were going to say something like that when Mike barged into the house," Nancy said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I'm messing with you, baby."

"I can get Steve pregnant!" Eddie yelped.

"Down boy, buy me dinner first," Steve said dryly.

"Okay, let's get to Lenora Hills before I get completely distracted," Eddie said. "Nancy, focus, and then we can study fae anatomy later. . ."

"I'm so getting a better grade than you," Nancy smirked, and Chrissy giggled.

"Fuck off, Wheeler!"

Lenora Hills, California. . .

"Fuck!" Eddie screamed.

He dropped Steve and Chrissy's hands immediately as he fell to his knees. Eddie bent over and began to make retching sounds. Steve pulled his hair back just as he vomited. He wiped Eddie's face with a tissue Chrissy gave him and helped him stand up. Eddie's whole body shuddered, and Steve wrapped his arms around him to hold him up. Steve watched as the other man's eyes turned purple.

"Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Is anyone else hearing music?" Eddie asked as blood gushed from his nose. "Did I just gain another level? Hmm, maybe it's something I ate."

Eddie's fading purple eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed into Steve’s arms. Steve picked him and held him close.

"I don't want to be a bummer, but I think Eddie missed by a few blocks," Robin said.

"Well, it was his first time performing the spell," Steve said. "Let's go."

They finally found the house they were looking for, and when they did, they discovered that the front door had been left wide open. Someone had clearly left in a hurry. When they entered, they found it in a stay of disarray, like someone had packed quickly. It was similar to the one in Indianapolis, except the furniture had been left behind. Drawers were opened and emptied. . .papers and takeout menus were littering the floor. Someone had clearly lived here a while, but it looked as though someone had left recently. Steve hurried to lay Eddie on the couch for a moment. He cleaned his face and listened closely to make sure he was just sleeping. He was.

"Is he okay?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, just sleeping. That spell took a lot out of him," Steve replied. "Let him sleep, and we can look around. Maybe whoever left here is going to come back."

Of course, they searched the house for hours and came up with nothing. Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy let Eddie have the bedroom in the back, considering he drained his batteries getting them all to California. He laid Eddie on the bed and sprawled out next to him. He watched the man snore loudly before flopping onto his stomach. Steve ran his hand over his back, smiling when Eddie sighed in his sleep. He laid down on the pillow, wondering if his parent had laid their head on this very pillow. Steve closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Steve was dreaming. He was sure of it. He felt smaller than usual, and he was lying in a . . . Cage? No, a crib. He was a baby, and he was looking up at his mobile made of stars. A face appeared above him. It was a younger, fresher faced Bob Newby. He had hazel eyes just like Steve.

"He's made of stars just like you," Bob said proudly.

"Freckles and moles, my love," a garble voice said.

"Stars, stars to guide his way back to us," Bob said softly.

"He's not going to be like the others, I won't allow it," the voice said.

"There's more of them than there are of us," Bob said sadly. "It's happening more and more lately."

"Bobby. . ."

Wait, was his other parent British? Steve tried to reach for them as they moved closer to the crib.

"I'm right here," Steve tried to call out. "I'm right here!"

When he woke up, Eddie was staring at him.

"Hey, you feeling any better?" Steve asked as he immediately sat up.

"A little, but I don't think I'm at full power yet," Eddie said. "I'm fucking hungry."

"Yeah, okay, we get out of here, and we can find something to eat," Steve said.

"Just a moment," Eddie yawned.

He pulled Steve closer to him and nuzzled his neck. Eddie pressed his lips there, peppering his soft skin with tiny kisses. Steve sighed for a moment and leaned into it. He rolled over onto his side to face Eddie.

"Why are you going through all this trouble? I mean, I know you care about me, but we barely started whatever this is, and you're nearly killing yourself to help me," he said.

"I don't know. . .I mean, I guess it's because of the assumptions I made about you but also because I would give anything. . .chase any lead that gives me any hope that my mama's alive and looking for me. She's not, though. She's been dead for a long time. I can't do it for myself, but I can do it for you," Eddie replied.

Steve wrapped his arm around him, pulled him closer, and kissed him deeply. He poured every ounce of affection he had for the man into that kiss. He broke away and leaned his forehead against his.

"Come on, let's see what the girls are up to," Steve said.

They wandered into the kitchen to find Nancy, Chrissy, and Robin leaning over a phone book.

"Eddie!" Chrissy exclaimed. "How are you doing?"

"Better once I get some food in me," Eddie said.

"Well, we were actually going to order something. I was thinking pizza. Laura never lets me have any," Chrissy said.

"Pizza sounds fucking awesome," Eddie exclaimed.

As they waited for the pizza to arrive, they sat in the living room to discuss their options. Eddie still needed to recharge and get some food in him before doing any sort of spells. In the meantime, they wait it out here and see if the person comes back. Steve was trying not to get his hopes up, but the closer they got to find his parent, the more hopeful he got. Robin leaned over the arm rest of the couch. Nancy, Chrissy, and Eddie were talking amongst themselves.

"You doing okay?" Robin asked.

"Trying to keep it all in, you know?" Steve said and paused. "I had a dream about my dad, about Bob. I think it was a memory. I couldn't see my other parent, but I know they were British, and Bob said I was made of stars like them. They have moles like me. . .what else did I get from them? Will I ever see them again? Do they know what happened to Bob?"

"I'm sure that you'll find your way back to each other," Robin said.

"That's what Dad said. . .that my stars would guide my way back to them," Steve said. "It was happening to so many fae children. . . They knew it was going to happen to them."

"You're going to find each other," Robin said softly.

Before Steve could say anything else, the doorbell rang. Nancy went to answer it but paused when they heard arguing coming from the other side. Steve shared a look with Nancy.

"Is that Jonathan?" Steve asked.

"I didn't even think about it," Nancy laughed quietly. "I ordered from Surfer Boy."

"Argyle! What are the odds that my ex-girlfriend is here in Lenora Hills while my current boyfriend is the one delivering her pizzas?" they heard Jonathan yell. "It is not the same Nancy Wheeler. She's still in Hawkins."

"Man, fate has a funny way of bringing people together!" Argyle laughed loudly.

Nancy covered her giggle with her hand and went to answer the door, but Chrissy stopped her. Chrissy pulled the front door open and grinned.

"Hi, I'm Nancy Wheeler," she laughed.

"Oh, shit, man, you were right," Argyle said.

"No. . .that's Chrissy Cunningham. She goes to Hawkins High," Jonathan said.

"Oh, what are the odds?" He asked, and Jonathan elbowed him in the side.

Nancy nudged Chrissy out of the way and appeared in the doorway.

"Nancy?!" Jonathan asked.

"Hey, Jonathan," Nancy said meekly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"It's a long story," Nancy said. "And I'll tell you later, I promise."

Jonathan looked at her doubtfully and then looked at Argyle before sighing. He knew that something strange was up, but he couldn't say it in front of Argyle. He accepted their tip and dragged Argyle back to the yellow van, leaving them with their pizzas. Once they ate, Eddie took a nap, and when he awoke again, he started to work on doing the location spell again. Eddie looked down at the paper and made a disgruntled sound with his mouth.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It says Hawkins, but it doesn't give me an address. . .just a bunch of random letters and numbers. It's like someone doesn't want us to know. . .hm, maybe there's a spell preventing us from knowing," Eddie said.

"Well, people place runes on the fae children to prevent the parents from finding them. Maybe they put runes on their houses too," Chrissy said.

"Shit, maybe it's my house or rather the Harringtons," Steve scoffed.

"Well, the only thing left to do is to check it out," Eddie said. "I'll start preparing the spell to travel back to Hawkins."

"Eddie, are you sure you're well enough for that?" Steve asked.

Eddie smiled. He cupped Steve’s face and pressed a hard kiss to his lips before he leaned his forehead against his.

"I'm fine, big boy."

Once they were in Hawkins, Eddie once again vomited and collapsed. They were just outside of Steve’s house. Steve picked him up and carried him into the house. Eddie's eyes fluttered open, and he groaned as he tried to sit up.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. "You should be resting."

"I don't want to miss this," Eddie said sleepily, wiping the blood from under his nose.

Before Steve could say anything else, they heard a figure coming from upstairs. Everyone downstairs tensed up, preparing for a fight. A woman entered the room. Her hair was long and carmel colored with warm golden highlights like Steve’s with moles scattered across her tan skin. She had Steve’s nose and his lips, but her eyes were a bright blue. Her flowered colored dress was as blue as her eyes.

"You're my mom," Steve gasped.

"Today, anyway," she smiled Steve’s smile.

Steve ran into her arms without even thinking. She hugged him tightly, sobbing. This felt right. . .her hug held more warmth than the hugs he received from the Harringtons, theirs being nothing more than cold detachment. His mother's hug felt like home. He could feel her now, too, in the back of his mind. There were so many emotions going through his head, and there was one question that was on his forefront of his mind. He pulled back, tears in his eyes.

"I don't even know your name," Steve said.

"Farran Kelley," she laughed, tears in her own eyes, and she tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Oh, you have your father's eyes."

"Yours too," Steve grinned as he felt his eyes glow green.

Farran laughed as her eyes glowed green as well.

"Your father was a fairy too, you know," she chuckled, and her smile dropped. "He should be here. . ."

"I'm sorry. . .I was there. . . I mean, I didn't watch him die, but I was in the middle of all of it," Steve frowned.

"Well, we warned the humans for years about meddling with that world. . .if I had known you were in the middle of all of it. . .I missed so much," Farran said sadly. "You're so grown."

"There's so much left to teach me. I still don't know everything there is to know about being a fairy," Steve said.

"Oh, so many wonderful things," Farran said and cupped his face. "My sweet boy. . .however, did you get that rune removed?"

"That was me!" Eddie exclaimed, waving from his spot on the couch.

Farran peered around Steve with a grin. Steve moved beside Eddie, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Mom, this is - "

"Eddie, my God, you've grown so much!" Farran said delightfully. "I haven't seen you since you were an ankle biter."

"You know me!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I was mates with your mum," Farran said.

"You were at her funeral!" He realized. "If you were friends with my mom, then why would my dad. . .I know he's an asshole. . ."

"So, you figured out that he was the one who kidnapped my son?" She asked.

"Well, I had to remove the rune that was on his back, and I had to be blood related, so. . .and kidnapping fae children is the kind of shit my dad would do," Eddie scowled.

He sat all the way up, and Farran sat down next to him.

"Your father loved your mother very much. She was the only person in the world who could make him cut all his bullshit but even though he loved her. . .he still didn't treat her very well. He left her all the time, and I was there for her when she had all those miscarriages. She had complications when she gave birth to you, and after that, it was harder to get pregnant. I did what I could being a fae healer, but not even magic has the answers to everything. It's something your father could never understand. Lizzie and I became close when she got to town. I was there when Al refused to be. That's what really drove him mad. He couldn't forgive himself for it. When I became pregnant, Lizzie became so excited. She hoped our children would be friends. A few months after we had you, Steve was taken from us. I didn't believe it at the time that Al had anything to do with, but his jealousy had been too obvious over the years. He always thought there was something between Lizzie and I, but she had become enamored with someone else. Even though Bobby and I split up, my heart always belonged to him," Farran said.

"My father's a dick," Eddie spat, and then his furious face fell. "Is there anything redeemable about my dad?"

"There's a part of me that still hopes that his love for Lizzie, for you, and Wayne will wake him up, but the rational part of me knows that will probably never happen. You know that you look like him, but I always knew that you got your heart from your mother even when you were a child," Farran said. "It's not wrong to hope that your father might do the right thing by you or the right thing, period."

"It's a small world, isn't it? You were best friends with my mother, and now I'm dating your son," Eddie laughed, and then he slapped a hand over his mouth. "I've gotten a little too comfortable."

"It's alright," Steve grinned.

"Oh! That's wonderful," Farran gasped. "Oh, Lizzie would be so happy!"

"Don't get too excited, mom. It's only been - wait, what day is it?" Steve asked and paused. "Eddie's only recently found out he's a witch, but he's the reason we found each other at all. He's exhausted himself so much to do it."

"Definitely Elizabeth's son," Farran said fondly. "Oh, sweetheart, you look exhausted. We should probably get back to my house. Steve, we should probably get you back to our house."

"We have a house?" Steve asked.

"Well, your father's family home. It's nestled out in the woods," Farran said. "You and your friends are more than welcome to come with us."

"OH! Mom, these are my friends. Well, Nancy's my ex-girlfriend, but now she's one of my best friends," Steve said, and Nancy smiled softly at him. "This is Chrissy. She's also a kidnapped fae child."

"If you don't mind, how did you know Steve’s name?" Nancy asked. "Didn't he have a different one?"

"No, Steve is the name we gave him. It was my father's. I guess the Harringtons were too lazy to change it," she replied, scowling.

"Oh! And this is my best friend in the whole world, my platonic soulmate, Robin Buckley," Steve grinned.

"Hi, Steve’s mom!" Robin exclaimed, hitting his chest. "I told you would find each other, dingus!"

Farran laughed and hugged her tightly.

"So, we're going to your house then?" Eddie asked.

"Steve, is there anything that you want to bring?" Farran asked.

"Oh, I've been wanting to leave for a while now. What I need is already packed," Steve grinned and ran up the stairs.

He came back downstairs with his hands carrying two large suitcases. He had the largest grin on his face. Farran helped Eddie up while Chrissy did the same on his other side as Farran promised Chrissy that she would teach her all about being a fae.

"How are we getting there?" Eddie asked.

"By car," Farran said. "Why? Did you think I had a carriage being pulled by unicorns?"

"Well, now I don't," Eddie scoffed, looking disappointed.

"Unicorns live in Scotland," Farran replied with a laugh. "And are a protected species."

"They're real," Eddie gasped with delight.

Steve laughed as he followed them to the front door. He walked out the front door with them, leaving the name Harrington behind. The name Newby-Kelley slid back into place. He was going home.

Months later. . .After the spring break from hell. . .

Steve stumbled through the trees, clutching his sides. Despite all the medicines Farran used on his son, the bites still hurt.

"It's just up ahead," Steve said.

"So, why did you move?" Hopper asked.

"It's my family home," Steve said.

"Figures John Harrington has more than one home in Hawkins," Hopper snorted.

"John Harrington isn't my father," he sighed. "He never was. Him and his wife hired someone to kidnap me. This is my real family home."

"Jesus," Joyce said.

"It's okay. I found my parents. I mean, my father is dead, but my other father, who is also sometimes my mother, is very much alive and is waiting for us," Steve said.

"I'm lost," Hopper said.

"No, it's just up ahead," he replied.

"That's not what I - "

It was a spacious four bedroom cottage type house in the woods with a stone pathway leading up the front door. Vines covered the house, sealing over every opening as though they were protecting it. There were vines sprouting around the house like a bubble as well. Steve approached the vines, and his eyes glowed green. The vines moved to create a doorway for them.

"What the hell?" Jonathan asked. "Hey, does this have anything to do with you guys being in Lenora a few months ago?"

"You were in Lenora?" Joyce asked.

"We were tracking down my father," Steve said. "We had to come back to Hawkins, though, because he had been tracking me too and tracked my last location to the Harringtons. He was my mother then."

"I'm lost again," Hopper said.

"Man, we're here," Steve said. "How are you getting lost? You're right behind me."

Hopper sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Joyce laughed and patted his arm.

"I think he doesn't understand about your parent being both your mother and your father," Joyce said.

"Oh! Some faes can change their gender if they wish. Today, Farran Kelley is a man," Steve said. "He's been my father the last few weeks."

"Faes. . .as in fairies?" Will asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm not human," Steve grinned. "Let's get inside, and we can talk about this."

They went inside the brick house where they were led into an open space living room and kitchen. On the other end of the house was a fireplace where a cool, blue fire crackled. The walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were stuffed with books. Pictures hung on the walls very neatly. Sitting on the couch in front of the fire was Nancy. Robin and Vickie sat on either side of her, rubbing her back as she cried. Steve felt his chest tighten painfully. Mike pushed his way through the group and ran towards his sister. Farran came down the stairs with Dustin. It always startled Steve to see how much Farran looked like him as a man. It was a good thing, though.

"Holy shit, is that a picture of Bob?" Jonathan said as he glanced at a picture on the wall.

"It is," Joyce said. "Why do you have a picture of Bob?"

"He was my husband," Farran said. "And this was his family home."

"Bob never said he was married," Joyce said, frowning.

"Divorced. We split after Steve was taken from us," Farran said.

"Steve is Bob's son?!" Will asked.

"He never said. . . ," Joyce trailed off. "Actually, he said he didn't have kids he was aware of."

"Steve was kidnapped and hidden from us by wiccan magic. We searched for years, and then Bob stayed here, waiting for him to come home, never knowing he was right in front of us," Farran said softly.

"He does have Bob's eyes," she said as she smiled at the both of them.

"I'm glad Bobby had love in his life before he died," Farran said, patting her hand.

"Okay, tell us everything from the beginning," Hopper sighed.

Farran shared a look with his son before launching into the story.

". . . And we did everything we could, but Vecna overpowered us," Farran said.

"Eddie. . .," Steve choked. "He and Chrissy. . .they died."

Suddenly, everything was hurting. Eddie wouldn't be here anymore. Steve wouldn't wake up next to him. . .no more dinners with Farran, Wayne, and Eddie. It would he a somber affair now with a piece of their family missing. No Chrissy coming in with Nancy to join them. No more double dating with Nancy and Chrissy. No double wedding under fae law. They were supposed to travel to Saoradh, the hidden land of the fae, this summer. Not to get married yet (that was far off) but to view the beautiful land and all it had to offer. Chrissy and Steve were supposed to learn more about their magic, their ancestors. Now, Chrissy was gone, and so was Eddie. Eddie.

"I'm so sorry," Joyce said softly.

Steve glanced at Nancy, who was hugging Jonathan tightly. Argyle stood somberly off to the side. Nancy pulled away and shared a glance with Steve. They moved towards each other. Nancy threw her arm around Steve, still crying. Steve sniffled and wrapped his arms around Nancy. What was going to happen now?

"I am here now," El said. "And I am stronger than ever. I believe together we can destroy Henry."

Meanwhile, in the Upside Down. . .

A figure jumped down into the gate from the Munsons' trailer. The hooded figure moved outside and glanced at the red sky filled with lightning. He pulled the hood down. Al Munson moved through the Upside Down, not stopping until he came to his son's body. He fell to his knees and placed his hands on Eddie's cold forehead.

"I've fucked up, son. I've done everything wrong, and I let my anger get the best of me. I wasn't there for your mom, not the way I should have, and I spent so much time blaming other people. You shouldn't have had to pay for my mistakes. There's one thing that I did right, and that was bringing you into this world with your mom. There's one other thing that I could do, and that's bringing you back. . . I still have time. It's going to take everything that I've got," Al said. "I love you."

Al cut up his son's shirt and began painting runes on his chest. Al took off his shirt before painting the same rune on his chest. He opened his spellbook and began chanting. Al felt his lifeforce begin to flow out of him, purple light floating from his chest. With the spell, Al told it where to go. The light began to pour into Eddie's rune. The last bit of light escaped Al's body and went into his son's. He collapsed on the ground, and as he took his last breath, Eddie gasped for his. Eddie awoke, clutching his chest. Shit, didn't the bats eat him alive? There were no wounds. . .only purple scars. Eddie turned his head to find his father's lifeless eyes staring back at him.

"Dad?" Eddie asked and knelt over him. "Dad?!"

Eddie sobbed. He already knew what Al did for him. . .but why? Why?! Eddie hated him for so many reasons, but now he was grateful to him. It was twice now that this man gave him life. Eddie sat up and took his dad's hand only to discover there was a note in his palm.

"I know sorry isn't going to be enough for how much I fucked up. I let you down so many times. Let Lizzie down. If you've discovered what I've done. . .no apology is ever going to be good enough to make up for what I did to those kids. On this paper, there is a list of names. Kids I sold, witches who have also sold kids. . Do with it what you will. You're already a better man than I am. . .I love you, kid. I know wherever your mom is. She's proud of you. Your story isn't over yet."

A couple of hours later. . .

Everyone stood their ground in the woods. Steve was fighting off the demogorgons and the demobats. His father was fighting beside him. Red lightning flashed over head. Steve held his nailbat, his eyes glowing green as emerald flames erupted around his bat. He swung the bat and hit a demogorgon. It whimpered as it hit the tree and exploded into green flames. More demogorgons came out from the trees, ready to pounce. The party was surrounded. The demogorgons launched themselves into the air.

"ENOUGH!" Henry's voice rang out.

They all heard him but they couldn't see him. The demogorgons paused, standing before them and waiting for their next orders. Steve scanned the treelines for any sign of the bastard. Silence fell as the party gathered together in a circle, back to back. Dustin was one side of him while Farran was on the other. Suddenly, they heard footsteps move closer, the snapping of branches echoing throughout the forest. She appeared, her eyes red and her smile menacing.

"Chrissy," Nancy gasped.

Fred followed after her, then came Patrick, and finally, Max.

"Max," Lucas gasped and moved to get to her, but Nancy grabbed his arm.

"Let me introduce you to my wonderful puppets. . .why would I kill them when I can use them for their power? Oh, I would have gotten to you too, Steve. . .if it hadn't been for Eddie. . .I had to do away with him - "

Suddenly, Henry was cut off by the sound of music. . .specifically the strumming of a guitar. Purple smoke, flashing with light, started to spill through the trees.

"What the fuck?" Will asked.

The purple smoke surrounded Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max. Amongst the smoke, their eyes turned a bright, furious green. The smoke swirled around the bats and the demogorgons as well.

"NO! NO! NO!" Henry screamed as he appeared through the smoke. "WHAT IS THIS?!"

A shadowy figure appeared and started moving towards them. The music got louder and louder until a person appeared carrying a guitar covered in runes. Steve grinned at the familiar guitar and at the ring covered hands playing them. He recognized those hands. He came out of the smoke like a god, his eyes a furious purple and his grin feral. He was shirtless and covered in runes.

"Eddie," Steve gasped.

Eddie grinned and began to sing his spells. He was an angel and devil. Both menacing and beautiful. Steve was ready to get down on his knees for Eddie right then and there. The demogorgons and the demobats turned on Henry. Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max all turned on him as well.

"NO! YOU'RE SUPPOSE TO BE MINE!" Henry screamed.

"We belong to no one," Chrissy said.

Her hands lit up with green flames. She Fred's then Fred took Patrick's, and then Patrick took Max's. All their hands glowed with a bright green flame, and they shot out at Henry. The green flames encircled him, and he screamed as they began licking at him, burning his flesh. The demogorgons growled and dove into the flames along with the demobats. They all began tearing at his flesh, not caring that they were dying in the process. They all watched the flames until everything died out. Henry Creel was dead. The purple smoke was gone now, and the skies had cleared. Lucas rushed to Max immediately, hugging her tightly. Max crashed her lips to his. Nancy ran to Chrissy and immediately jumped into her arms, wrapping her legs around her waist. She kissed Chrissy deeply, shaking with sobs. Chrissy gripped Nancy's thigh and pressed her up against a tree to steady her. Steve stood and stared at Eddie in shock. The runes disappeared from him and his guitar. Eddie gave his guitar to Dustin.

"I'm real, big boy," Eddie said softly.

Steve let out a sob, and Eddie pulled him close. He dipped Steve and kissed him. Unable to keep their balance, Steve and Eddie stumbled to the ground.

"Well, hell, is anyone going to kiss us?" Patrick asked.

"We could kiss each other," Fred joked.

Patrick stared at him, and the smile slipped off of Fred's face. Patrick grinned as he looked him up and down.

"Yeah, okay, you're cute," Patrick said.

"What?! I mean. . .yeah!"

FIVE YEARS LATER. . .Saoradh. . .

Steve couldn't believe he was here, standing in his homeland with Chrissy, Eddie, and Nancy. Robin brought Vickie as well. All of their family and friends were there, including all of the fae children they had saved over the years. It had taken Eddie, Steve, Chrissy, and Nancy traveling in a cramped RV all over the country to find them all. Eddie hadn't been able to use his magic all the time. He was still amazed every time they came here. Steve gazed at the purple and pink sky, sighing happily. This is it.

"You nervous?" Robin's voice asked.

"Not at all," Steve grinned.

"He's totally nervous," Dustin said.

He pulled his head from the window and back into the small wooden building. He turned towards Robin and Dustin, glaring playfully.

"I'm ready for this," Steve said and tucked his hair behind his ears.

He clipped the fairy wings to his ears and checked his makeup in the mirror one last time. It had been centuries since the fae had lost their wings, but they still made sure to remember they once had them. Steve adjusted his yellow suit. It had been tough choosing between the suit and the fairy wedding robes, especially since the robe had lovely flowing sleeves. Steve chose the suit because his ass looked great in the pants, and he loved to see Eddie drool. Steve was more than willing to wear the jewelry, and if he knew Eddie, which he did, he had chosen the long flowing robes. Farran popped her head in, wearing fairy robes with glittering and moving flowers. Her carmel hair was piled on top of her head, with strands of hair framing her face.

"Oh, you look so beautiful, my love," Farran gasped.

"Thanks, Mama," Steve grinned. "You look beautiful too."

"Oh, I can't believe this is happening. Bobby and Lizzie should be here to see this," Farran said tearfully.

"In a way, I think they are," Steve grinned. "I feel them."

Farran patted his cheek and pulled him down to kiss his forehead.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

"Yeah."

Farran took his arm and led him outside. Dustin ran ahead to stand beside Eddie as his best man. Robin took Steve’s other arm.

"Hey, you're supposed to be my best man," Steve said in amusement.

"I've decided to give you away as well," Robin said. "I feel like it's my right as your platonic soulmate."

Farran and Steve laughed. Farran and Robin led Steve towards a cluster of trees. The tree branches moved aside, opening up to a large clearing where a lot of people were gathered. Eddie was up there already, Wayne crying and trying to get him to settle down. He adjusted Eddie's red, long flowing robes before stepping aside. Dustin was grinning with tears in his eyes. There was a large space next to them where Fred was standing up as Nancy's best man, and Patrick was standing up as Chrissy's. The music had already started. Nancy appeared first in her pastel blue suit, and her wild curls set loose. Ted and Karen stood on either side of her, crying. Steve watched as they led her down the aisle, and he laughed when Eddie high fived her before she got in place.

Next came Chrissy in her pink pastel suit, and her strawberry blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Argyle was happily giving her away, laughing when Eddie high fived her too. Finally, Steve was next. Farran and Robin guided him down the aisle where Eddie was waiting for him. With tears in his eyes, Steve couldn't help but think about how all of this started. Eddie had been in robes then, too, clueless about the unknown. He had guided Steve home, led him to discovering the truth about himself, and in the process, they had done so much good. It doesn't matter where you were, really, the people who were the most important to you, they were what made a house a home. As Steve walked towards Eddie, he had the same feelings as he did the day he met Nancy, the day Dustin came into his life, the same emotions swirling around him when he became friends with Robin and it was like when he hugged his mom for the first time since he was a baby. The truth of the matter. . .is that coming home happens more than once, and Steve was lucky to get so many.