#shakes them around I need. to hyperfixate on them

[spinjitsuburst]

why aren’t there more concepts around the overlord being absolutely terrifying. horror-movie level eldritch being. the embodiment of DARKNESS and EVIL ITSELF should be a terrifying entity not only psychologically but also physically

[byanyan]

feeling something vaguely resembling human today so maybe I will be able to actually do something? finally??

[gootube]

hi im jules. im new to the information department! youve seen someone like me before? haha yeah, that sounds kinda crazy. can you show me around

[astonmartinii]

head in the clouds | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem flight attendant!reader

there's no one more attractive than the stranger at the same gate as you at the airport and sometimes that stranger works on your best friend's private jet.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 3,105 others

yourusername: violently hungover, don't tell my boss x

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user1: i need to be her

maxverstappen1: your boss follows you on instagram genius

yourusername: oh yeah lol but i'm still alive and i was still on time

maxverstappen1: you took a nap on the flight?

yourusername: it was about ten billion hours long so spare me the lecture

maxverstappen1: you're so lucky we're friends otherwise i'd fire your ass

yourusername: you love me too much to do that maxy (and i know way too much about you) x

user2: how did you get this job?

yourusername: nepotism babes x

danielricciardo: i think you masked it pretty well for the first three hours

yourusername: THANK YOU

danielricciardo: but i did hear you throw up around hour four

yourusername: nothing like a tactical chunder on your childhood friend's private jet

landonorris: i for one couldn't tell you were hungover

yourusername: well look who's my new favourite, you should fly with max more often

danielricciardo: he's only saying that cause he has a crush, I'M STILL YOUR FAVOURITE

yourusername: whatever helps you sleep at night x

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,034,566 others

tagged: danielricciardo

landonorris: reunited and it feels so good 😊

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user3: always obsessed with this pairing

user4: they're cute but i know they're so annoying to fly with

danielricciardo: i knew you missed me :)

landonorris: of course i did you big sap

danielricciardo: so you didn't replace me with a younger and sexier version of me?

landonorris: not technically no

oscarpiastri: i'm just gonna take the compliment, thanks dan :)

danielricciardo: massive compliment, i'm extremely sexy

user5: thank the lord daniel is back who was going to make lando blush all the time?

danielricciardo: believe me he doesn't need me to do that when he flies on air max that's all y/n

landonorris: DANIEL?

danielricciardo: she took these photos - look at the blush. LOOK AT THE MATERIAL

yourusername: i think i'm just a better photographer than you two combined so i just capture my subjects well

danielricciardo: nope. i think lando just has a BIG FAT CRUSH

maxverstappen1: LMAO

yourusername: who wouldn't? (i'm shaking)

user6: wtf is going on here?

user7: i think we're witnessing bullying

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 892,330 others

tagged: georgerussell63, alexalbon, landonorris & yourusername

maxverstappen1: getting some padel in on the weekend off

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user9: max really puts his hyperfixations above his beef because who thought we'd see him playing with george after baku

danielricciardo: how did lando get through a whole session with y/n there he can barely get through a sentence around her

landonorris: why are you so obsessed with exposing me in public

danielricciardo: funny.

yourusername: he did very well, he took a few balls to the face but he took them like a champ.

maxverstappen1: i'm sure he'd rather be the one putting balls in your face. get it? his balls? sex?

yourusername: i got it, you're not funny pal

maxverstappen1: well i think i'm hilarious so

user10: poor lando is going through the ringer rn

yourusername: whipped all of your asses call yourself professional athletes?

alexalbon: you were freakishly good what is your trick?

yourusername: only time i'm not playing padel is when i'm asleep or on a charter with max it's the only thing i can be better than him in

landonorris: you're definitely better looking than him and like 10 million times nicer than him

yourusername: you're not too bad yourself norris, you've just bagged yourself an extra bag of peanuts next flight x

alexalbon: romance is dead

f1wagsupdates

liked by user11, user12 and 4,109 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagsupdates: this is y/n y/ln potential new girlfriend of lando norris. she is a close friend of max verstappen, to the point that after she finished university and was without a job, he financed her education to be a air hostess, the job she now has on max's private jet. as far as we know she's never been in a public relationship but she also lives in monaco, is a padel enthusiast and has exchanged flirty comments with lando. also, she's a real one because she refuses to charter if jos wants to fly on air max - she slays for that one

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user13: if she's a longtime, potential childhood friend of max, the jos thing probably makes sense

user14: gosh she's so pretty

user15: giving your bestie a job and a life where you get to have her travel with you everywhere is really what nepotism should be

user16: for real where's my friend who will pay for me to learn to be a air hostess so we can hang out all the time

user17: i think her and lando would be cute

user18: and they would also make sense, they'd have a schedule that completely lines up and y/n would understand the sport and the lifestyle

user19: she also knows all of his friends already and they seem to get on with her

user20: "never been in a public relationship" she's just like us

user21: except she's gonna pull lando freaking norris and we're all still lonely

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 17,098 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: THE way to spend your saturday, perks of the job x

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user22: hey siri play that should be me by justin bieber

maxverstappen1: glad you could take a break from being a tourist to actually come watch me

yourusername: lies i'm always there you just don't know because i sit in hospitality so i can drink ;)

maxverstappen1: is that why my mum looked so happy to see me after sitting with you in hospitality?

yourusername: NO! sophie just loves me

user23: omg y/n and sophie just chill in hospitality? i love them

landonorris: i heard mclaren have great hospitality and actually has a cup of tea with your name written all over it

yourusername: hmmm we'll see if it beats the team who broke the cost cap on catering but i'm willing to take that risk

landonorris: i promise it's worth your time

danielricciardo: @maxverstappen1 look he's finally making a move 👀

maxverstappen1: ugh finally !!!

yourusername: yall mind? ACTUALLY i'm not coming back to red bull you're annoying

user24: has the bullying worked ?

mclarenf1

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 1,093,455 others

tagged: landonorris

mclarenf1: lando is back on the podium with a p2 finish with oscar just behind in p4 congrats papaya boys!!

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user25: LET'S GOOOOOO THE WIN IS COMING I CAN FEEL IT

oscarpiastri: congrats lando :)

landonorris: your podium will come oscar you're killing it right now

user26: omg faves i can't wait until the double podium

user27: y/n in the likes ..... 🤔 makes you think

yourusername: idk what you conspiracy theorists want to hear but you don't need to know everything that happens in the drivers' personal lives and i can like posts of my friends doing well

user28: so you're not together

yourusername: you people have the reading comprehension skills of a rock

maxverstappen1: congrats mate, try not to get too drunk tonight, air max is scheduled early in the morning 👍

landonorris: i'll be there no worries

danielricciardo: of course he will, his favourite will be there

landonorris: laugh all you will but i have a pack of peanuts promised to me

yourusername: i'll put salt in their drinks don't worry lando

maxverstappen1: i have done nothing wrong?

yourusername: i am in solidarity with lando

maxverstappen1: i'm ur best friend?

yourusername: he's cute :)

user29: you can't tell she doesn't like him back

danielricciardo

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,209,778 others

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

danielricciardo: podiums give you balls. balls get you girlfriends.

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user32: HOLYYYYYYYYYY SHIT

maxverstappen1: they are not awake yet lol they're going to kill you

danielricciardo: i'd like to see lando try. y/n i am afraid of though.

maxverstappen1: you should be, a girl once threw a drink over me in the club for walking into her and y/n went feral. i was afraid and impressed

yourusername: had to protect your virtue max

maxverstappen1: much appreciated, probably the only time i've been attracted to you

landonorris: AND THE LAST TIME

user33: considering their new relationship just got exposed, they're doing pretty well

yourusername: oh we're waiting until daniel is in an enclosed space where if he tries to escape we all die :)

landonorris: he's going to regret this before such a long flight, esp with a hungover y/n

danielricciardo: is it too late to say i love you guys?

yourusername: free enchante merch and i'll drop it

danielricciardo: done.

landonorris: Y/N???

yourusername: what were we really going to do? plus i've had a crush on you for so long people would definitely know by now if i wasn't dead in bed

landonorris: you had a crush? why was i the only one getting bullied?

maxverstappen1: please refer to my comment about the feral club night

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,237,903 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: on a scale of 1 - 10 how annoyed would you be if someone joined a particular club on your private jet?

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user35: THE MILE HIGHER CLUB?

maxverstappen1: you're banned from the bathroom now, get a UTI i don't care do NOT shag on my plane

landonorris: so is that a 10 definietly not?

maxverstappen1: i will make sure you will never be able to use it again if you have sex on my plane with my best friend

landonorris: understood 😅

yourusername: i don't know how you did it but you made your first post about me even less romantic than dan's and his mentioned balls TWICE

landonorris: but i love you so that's all that counts right?

yourusername: i love you too but i also clean that plane so no one will shag on it or i'll scrap them

landonorris: i get the message no mile higher 😭

yourusername: but at least you get extra peanuts and the best pillow for life

landonorris: you spoil me too much

oscarpiastri: happy for you mate, it was painful watching you mope around the garage

yourusername: awww you moped ???? that's so cute

landonorris: i moped because i really liked you and daniel made it his mission to embarrass me constantly in front of you

yourusername: babe i've cleaned dan's sick off the floor of the jet nothing he could say could make me not like you

landonorris: thank the lord cause if i didn't ask you out i think i may have combusted

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 30,987 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: the 4am call times and mad max tantrums have all been worth it to meet you <3

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user36: god i have seen what you have done for others

maxverstappen1: now you're together i can say this, 1) i love you guys and i'm glad you're happy. 2) lando saw you once at a karting competition and had a crush ever since this was not new

landonorris: THAT WAS BETWEEN ME AND YOU

maxverstappen1: and he confessed that seeing you in your uniform is what finally pushed him over the edge

landonorris: STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING

maxverstappen1: bro don't worry you guys are together, you're set for life

landonorris: thanks for having faith i guess?

maxverstappen1: BRO SHE IS SUPER DUPER IN LOVE WITH YOU

yourusername: he's not wrong

landonorris: hehehehehehehehe

oscarpiastri: he's literally sat in hospitality giggling and kicking his legs btw

landonorris: proudly so, my gf LOVES me

user37: lando got a gf before a win and i respect that

landonorris: i love you, can't wait for the rest of my life with you

yourusername: i can't wait, i'll even play golf with you x

danielricciardo: mate at least wait until the six month mark before you propose

landonorris: no promises x

note: hope you enjoyed, had this thought and i just had to do it. i'm working on requests and mamma mia p4!!

[b1rds3ye]

hi!!! i LOVE the masked reader content 😭💞 my hyperfixated brain is thanking u deeply

can i request a masked (w LEDs bc i love it sm) reader who's saying "i cant believe you guys didnt notice my new haircut" or something similar, having a :( face on their mask and 141 is so confused like "we cant see your hair" "you have hair? kinda thought u were bald" stuff like that 😭 its a weird idea but im craving stupid platonic fluff like that

ty for the masked reader content love u sm for it

Hehehe as someone who hyperfixates a lot I am flattered I can induce it onto someone else LMAO Just a lil Drabble for this one I couldn’t think up of much 😅

“You pissed ‘em off,” Ghost observes and Soap’s face drops into one of sheer betrayal.

“That was one time 'n' now you a' think it’s me?” Johnny jerks his head to the side in annoyance. “What about when cap’n-”

“I’m sure they can hear you,” Gaz whisper-shouts as he gestures to you. The rest of the task force look over to you sitting on the couch at the far end of the common room. Absentmindedly watching the shared television, your arms are folded with your mask in a perpetual "-_-". You make no indication that you heard them, no, you were fully set on ignoring them all morning.

"Captain what should we do?" Kyle asks.

"This isn't a mission Kyle, we can talk it out," Price sighs.

"Care to do the honours, then?"

Price stills, beady eyes sparing a glance at your unmoving figure. If the rest of the task force didn't know any better, they would think the unwavering captain was scared.

"'m busy," he replies gruffly.

"Busy" being him fishing around in his pocket for a new cigar for an impossibly long amount of time until his subordinates let him off the hook.

"L.T.?" Johnny looks to the next superior officer, to which Simon only responds with a half-hearted grunt. In truth, Simon and John have always been good at figuring out your mood. This is one of the few times they've been left stumped, clear through the silent conversation they shared as they looked at each other.

"Cowards," Johnny mutters to himself before stomping up to you, with a drawn out, sing-song (but horrendously out of tune) "bonnieeeee" announcing his presence to you. You don't even flinch.

Johnny saddles himself beside you, leaning into you. He offers you his sweetest puppy-dogs to try and placate you before he tests the waters.

"So... what's up?"

The rest of the task force was slowly joining Johnny, you could tell as Price's cigar smoke became more pungent. An explosive move by you has these grown men flinching as you pull out a strip of paper and slam it on the coffee table in front of you, mask flitting to an angry face all the while before returning to "-_-".

Simon reaches the paper first. Delicately opening the thin parchment as Kyle and John peer over his shoulder. Johnny looks up at them but stays by your side.

Simon looks at you.

"A hairdresser?"

"Got it done yesterday," you seethe. "And no one bloody noticed. They're not cheap, you know!"

Johnny tries putting a hand on your shoulder but you jerk it away. There's a heavy moment of silence as you keep laser focused on whatever the hell the television is playing. Your hands grip your biceps as you ensure they stay crossed.

Kyle eventually submits. He kneels before you, not daring to take up all the view of the screen, but just enough for him to be sure you were aware of him.

"Love, I'm gonna ask you a question. Please don't take this the wrong way."

"What?" you grumble.

Kyle takes an audible inhale. He receives an encouraging nod from Price and he needs to take a swallow to prepare. Even you have to admit the anticipation is killing you now, you offer him the relief that he indeed has your attention, mask now set with "?" over the eyes.

"... you have hair?"

You groan and swat him away as Johnny bursts out laughing. Leaning forward with your head in your hands you try to make it seem like your shaking shoulders were from devastation and not because you were laughing too.

"No, Kyle, I just thought I'd go to a hair dresser and admire everyone else's hairdos," you retort once you've recollected yourself.

"Thought you were bald," Simon muses.

"Right back at you, Skull Face."

"I'm sure it looks good, sergeant," Price encourages as he takes the receipt from Simon, inspecting the details.

"At least someone appreciates my efforts unlike the rest of you."

"How about we appreciate it more then, bonnie?" Johnny leans in mischievously. "Take that mask off. Show us how good it looks."

"Actually, I- uh... I got my hair treated. Need to keep this mask on, let it set, you know?"

Kyle tilts his head.

"That's not how it works-?"

"I've been waiting for this bit!" You exclaim as you point at the television screen. Kyle shakes his head with a smile before joining you on the couch, opposite to Johnny. Simon and John also situate themselves around the room, far enough for personal distance but close enough to still take part in conversations, and it's now a typical off-day for the 141. They may not be able to see your face - nor your improved hair - for now, but perhaps one day they'll be graced with the sight. For now, these antics around base will suffice.

Call of Duty Navigation Masked Reader Masterlist

[darlingdarkly]

New Year, New You Part 2

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

Just over 3.5k words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, 18+, mature themes

Part 1, 3

You enter the building, it’s noisy and busy in the lobby. Coming up to the kiosk you sign in and a new bracelet is spit out at you. You put it around your wrist and step past the lobby and further into the building. Sitting alone at a table in the smoothie alcove is Johnny and when he sees you his face lights up. You told yourself the night before, somewhere between coming down from your Johnny fueled orgasm and the drifts of your dreams that the first day was a fluke.

They’re all trained like this, to seem super bubbly and interested in you. It’s a ploy, a sales tactic, it’s to get you back in the door, have you pay that membership fee so you’ll be the center of attention of this super attractive, highly magnetizing flytrap. If you were a man there’d be an extremely fit, ultra flirty woman counterpart to come over and hyperfixate on you until you caved and bought a membership for the hopes of getting your hands in that tight little sports bra and the gym raked in another sucker.

They probably pay them extra too, some kind of bonus or sales commission for the trainer who racked up the most membership fees that month. Johnny was just trying to meet his quota and you were fresh meat. You ignored the empty pit that had formed at the center of your chest with this epiphany and told yourself you weren’t even mad about it. It was a ruse, clear and simple but what they didn’t know was that they weren’t gonna make a sucker out of you, that was for sure.

If Johnny was gonna use you, so be it. The joke was on him, he’s gonna put all this time into you and when your two weeks were up you’d be gone. The first thing he said to you was “Homework?” With his hand out, like there was some physical object you were meant to place in his hand. You were pretty sure he had given you a few sets of exercises to do, physical activities. Not paperwork. “Yeah, I did it.”

He looked up at you, head tilted like a dog. “Proof.” You laughed, a trill little nervous sound. What could you possibly have to be nervous about? Pleasing him? Being in some sort of trouble with this man you just met yesterday? But you couldn’t exactly shake the feeling. “I… I don’t.. have proof. But I did it.”

He sighs and gestures for you to sit down. You pull the chair out and sit across from him and he leans forward muscular arms on display as they rest across the tabletop. “I’ll let it go this time, since ye didn’t know but when I assign ye homework I expect proof.” You take your gym bag strap off your shoulder and set it down beside you. “Proof like a log book? Or something?”

The grin that grows on his face is gorgeous but condescending. “Can cheat a log book can’t ya hen? No. I need video evidence.” Your jaw drops a little. “You want me to videotape it?” He nods and smiles. You consider this, it’s a little strange, but you guess you can do that, prop your phone up and videotape your evening workout assignments. “Ok.”

He sits back in his chair and you relax. You go to get up and he adds. “One more thing, hen.” You stop and sit back down in the chair. “Got a few questions before we start today and I want ye tae be as honest as ye can. Can ye do that fer me?” This sets you a bit on edge but you nod in agreement.

The questions start out basic and non intrusive. Have you ever worked out before? Ever worked with a personal trainer before? Then they grow a bit more personal. What kind of home do you live in? Do you have any family living with you? A boyfriend or husband? Roommates? You answer them slowly but honestly.

Then the questions take on a more medical standpoint. Do you have any allergies? Any health problems he should know about? Are you on birth control or IUD? Are you sexually active? You look around to see if anyone is paying attention to your conversation but it seems not to be the case. Your mind is trying to process an answer to that last question but before you even can he looks up from where he’s been recording your answers in his phone and asks “When’s the last time you orgasmed?”

You're dead quiet. Did he just ask you that? Your ears must be deceiving you. “I’m sorry?” He doesn’t even smile, just asks you again. “Orgasm. When was your last orgasm.” You cough at the utter vulgarity of it. “None of your business.” He chides you, like you’re a child. “Nothing to be ashamed of, lass. I’m yer personal trainer.” He says it like it holds the same weight as being your physician.

When you still don't answer he begins to explain. “Yer body lass, is a very particular beast. It needs balance. A very carefully curated balance of nutrition, regular exercise, mental and emotional inputs, creative and productive outlets, and a series of stress and tension releases, among other things. As yer personal trainer it is my job tae make sure yer body is in balance and yer living as healthy and fit as I possibly can. Yer sexual health is as important as yer mental and physical health, and I’d even go as far as to argue it’s an integral part of an adult’s mental well-being and stability. We’re both adults here lass, so I’ll ask ye again. When’s the last time you had some real resease?”

Your mouth is dry, and as you sat there and listened to him you felt a little ashamed of yourself, thinking he was being lewd by asking you these, on the surface, seemingly crass questions when in reality he was just doing his job. Trying to be to the best of his ability as attentive to your needs and as thorough at his job as he could. You felt suddenly compelled to apologize for being perhaps rash and accusatory, jumping too quickly to conclusions.

Your next instinctual thought is the one you jump on, pure honesty and your cheeks flare with heat as you say it. “Last night.” And while you had been honest to try and save some sort of face you come to immediately regret your decision as the professional, serious demeanor he’d donned to pry the answer from your lips drops. His eyes are shiny devious lights, lips turning upwards at the very corners, bright white predatory teeth flashing at you from the parted lips, wolfish in their grin. He leans forward and you feel your heart beating louder in your chest as his eyes hold yours, locked and daring, his hands disappear from the tabletop.

When he speaks next his voice is fundamentally different, almost like you’re speaking to a different man. His voice is gruff, tone a whole octave lower as he growls out from his chest in a voice just loud enough to float to your ears. “Dirty girl. What were ye thinking about hmm? Did ye think about me while ye touched that pretty little pussy?” He must see the way you feel reflected across your features because his eyes darken and he continues on.

“Aye. It was me wasn’t it. What’d ye think about me doin’ tae ye. Did ye think about mah fat cock in that tight little cunt? Bendin’ ye over and sliding in til’ I’m buried to the hilt?” You felt the palm of his hand glide up over the curve of your knee, his fingers wrapping around the width of your lower thighs as they snaked up your leg while he poured filth into your ears.

“Or did I have ye on yer back, legs spread nice and wide while I feasted in the valley of yer thighs til’ yer eyes rolled back and ye were scremin’ mah name tae the heavens?” Your jaw dropped of its own accord and he smirked, fingers squeezing the meat of your leg as he held you captive with his eyes.

“Aye that’s it then.” Your mouth closes and opens like a gaping fish as you try to get a grip of the situation and stutter some kind of refusal. Some kind of response that will make you regain control of the conversation but the sudden change of direction, the pure whiplash of it puts you at a loss for words. All you seem capable of doing is yammering out meaningless syllables and the starts of words. “You- I didn’t- Wait-“

But he’s not done and he silences you as his fingers brush the hem of your sweats. The shudder that runs up your spine is violent and makes you twist in your seat, unintentionally bucking into his touch.

“Nothin’ tae be ashamed of hen, I thought of ye too last night. Fist wrapped around mah cock as I thought of that sweet wet little gob of yers. How pretty ye’d look on all fours fer me. We’re gonna have a lot of fun, me n’ you.”

With that he stands, hand removed from your leg and you didn’t miss him quickly adjusting the growing tent in his gym shorts as he rose. He leans over the table and your head cranes back as he leans in close. “Go get changed. I’ll see ye in the gym, it’s time for our first session.”

You finally manage to collect yourself in the girls locker room. Luckily it’s mostly empty as you slide your sweats off to find your panties ruined. How had it gone so sideways? You came in determined to outplay him and instead you find yourself wet and hanging onto every single one of his words like some kind of filthy slut. That’s the only word for it, you feel like a filthy little slut. Just the pure audacity of him, to speak to you in the most vile and shameless way, had you soaked.

It was the thought of him, thick cock in hand, stroking it with slow languid strokes as he dreams of you on his knees in front him, your hand replacing his, the look of pure ecstasy in his eyes as he watches you take him down your throat for the first time, bobbing your head up and down his- STOP. This is not helping. This is exactly what he wants. But it doesn’t make it easy to push the fantasy from the forefront of your mind (because actually getting yourself to stop imagining it is impossible).

You finish dressing, zip up your gym bag, place it in the locker and leave as you watch the red light replace the green. He’s waiting for you in the open gym by the free weights and when he sees you there’s a content little smile on his face, like he wasn’t just wrecking your entire train of thought with nothing more than dirty words and a hand trialing up your thigh minutes ago.

You get the first word in, you know it’s the only way you’ll be able to control the conversation, if he speaks your whole argument may crumble to dust before you’ve gotten your point across. “We need to set some boundaries. You can’t just speak to me that way. It’s inappropriate and unprofessional and I won’t stand for it.”

To your surprise he just smiles and agrees, which deflates your sails completely. But you showing up after yesterday and staying for the session even after the “inappropriate and unprofessional” talk when you arrived was all he really needed to know. He’ll let you tire yourself out like a horse with bit in its mouth for the first time. Wild horses must be broken.

“If we’re going to do this then I want you to treat me with respect and decency. Do we have an agreement?” He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest and a neutral expression on his face, and the pause he leaves between your demands and his answer makes you feel a little like a child throwing a tantrum. “Aye, lass. I’ll treat ye with all the decency and respect ye deserve. Are ye ready to get started now?”

You nod and he motions you over to a matted area of the room, free of weights and other objects so you can stretch. Something you think would go like him demonstrating and then you imitating while giving you verbal pointers, but no. It actually means he shows you once and then makes you imitate it and if it’s not exactly how he did it he comes over to you and rearranges you.

Hands all over your body pushing down on your lower back for proper push-ups, hands gliding up your legs all the way to the undersides of your ass cheeks to straighten your legs for proper toe touches, he’s sitting on your feet for your sits ups, claiming your feet are wobbling too much, leans in way too far while you’re coming up so you’re face to face when you do and you catch him several times staring at your lips, his own slightly parted, even having to tell him you’ve done your last set of ten when he was supposed to be keeping count.

When you’ve finished what he calls your warm up he explains the next steps in a proper session. “I wanna work on yer flexibility. We’re gonna have ye doin’ full on splits by the time done with ye.” And he’s smiling and laughing like it’s some sort of secret joke between the two of you.

You sit on the mat, legs spread out before you in a comfortable V. Slowly he begins to spread your legs wider and wider. They come to a natural stop and he gets between them, using those toned strong arms to push past their limitations. Your brow furrows as the burn in your hips intensifies. “Johnny, s’too much.” But he keeps going, pushing on your inner calves, stretching them wider. You roll onto your back and think that he’ll stop but he doesn’t, just climbs over top of you and continues to push. His crotch presses up against yours as he continues to split you. “Johnny!”

“Just a wee bit more, lass. You can do it. Doin’ so good fer me.” And you hate the way the praise sinks into your skin and soothes you. He’s stopped pushing, just holds your legs at this shockingly obtuse angle you never knew you were capable of achieving. You’re whining and whimpering, the ache and burn of your legs fills your mind, all encompassing and excruciating, you can feel tears forming at your waterline, threatening to spill. “Johnny, please!” And he finally relents, slowly releasing the tension on your thighs until you’re breathing heavily and lying limp.

You have time later, at home in bed recounting the events of the day, to imagine the absolutely scandalous sight the pair of you must have made. Your back on the mat, Johnny practically mounting you on the floor of the open gym as he spreads your legs wider and wider while you whimper and whine as cries of his name and “it’s too much” fall from your lips. It’s enough to make your face heat with embarrassment but also make you extremely wet.

He doesn’t move, still slotted obscenely in the space between your thighs, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist as he rubs soothing circles into your hips. The burn in your legs is slowly ebbing to a dull throb and as you lie there you wonder just what you’ve gotten yourself into but he doesn’t let you marinate in your thoughts for long as he rises and extends a hand to help you up.

What follows is him shuffling you around to numerous machines you’d have been too shy and un-knowledgeable about to try on your own, instructing you how to properly use them, the muscle groups they worked on, and setting your weights and reps for. He was very adamant about the rule of three. For the first session it was important to establish a baseline to follow, a minimum amount of each exercise that you were fully capable of carrying out. You could push your limits later but for now he wanted at least three sets of each activity.

And through it all you found that you were actually learning a fair amount about exercising that before seemed daunting and out of reach. You thought that maybe, with his help, you’d actually be able to accomplish some real tangible goals, results you could see. He finished off where the whole journey began, you on the treadmill, he set you off on a jog and spoke to you as you began to move.

“I’ve got some things tae handle, hen. I want ye tae try and keep jogging the whole time I’m gone. Do ye think ye can do that fer me?” You nod, and he walks up to the side of the machine, standing there until you look over and catch his piercing blue eyes. “Yer not just cheating yerself when you slack off, yer cheating me as well and trust me I’ll ken if ye do. I always get what I’m owed, bonnie.”

The threat in his tone chills you but he smiles as he says it and you wonder just what sort of consequences might come with a thing like that. You decide then that you’re not quite ready to find out and with that he leaves you to it.

He’s not gone long. Ten minutes tops and while you’re tired and had slowed to a lighter jog at times you know you had done as he asked and was sort of glad with what you’d been able to manage. He gets you to stop and congratulates you on a fine first session. Even pulls you in for a hug, despite the sweat that’s collected on your skin. It's longer than you’d have liked but at least he’s not outwardly groping you.

He takes you down to the smoothie alcove, orders you a smoothie and has you sit down. You take his offer immediately, glad to be momentarily off your feet. He brings you your drink and lifts one of your legs, unlacing your sneaker and pulling your sock off. “Johnny what are you doing?” He placed your shoe and sock on the floor by your chair and begins rubbing your foot. “Dinnae want ye tae be too sore to workout tomorrow. The first session can be very taxing on the body. Build up of lactic acid in yer muscles and ye’ll be cryin’ tae me tomorrow about why ye cannae come in. Cannae have that now can we?”

You sit forward as much as you can with your foot in his hand. “Actually I need to talk to you about that, I can’t come in tomorrow, I’ve got a huge work thing and I’ll be staying late to help prep the presentation for it.” He hums and switches feet, getting your sock and shoe off before he answers. “Ye can still do yer homework and send it in, I’ll give ye my number. I wanna see the same thing ye did last night on video this time and I wanna see ye practice yer stretches, ye ken?”

You nod in understanding and he begins working up your leg towards your calves, you bite back a moan at the painful but magical sensation. “And I wanna know about these things ahead of time. I’m a flexible man bonnie but I need tae fit these kinds of changes in yer schedule in advance.” You say you understand and even thank him for being so understanding, which brings a huge cheeky grin to his face.

He gets behind you and massages your shoulders as you finish your drink and the feeling of his warm hands on your shoulders and back have you on an erotic edge that you feel uncomfortable with in such an open setting. You quickly finish the last of the smoothie and rise from your seat. After you’ve said your goodbyes and he’d given you a card with his number on it you head for the locker room and begin undressing. You unlock your locker to find your gym bag unzipped and open.

It gives you pause, you’re almost certain you did not leave it this way, you’ve always had the habit of rezipping your gym bag after changing. You quickly rummage through it but find nothing missing. Phone, keys, wallet. Everything was there. You shake it off and label it as a mistake. You must have left it unzipped when you were changing and still flustered from your first little chat. Swinging the bag over your shoulder you leave the locker room and head home, waving to Johnny on your way out the door.

[hotluncheddie]

omg it's been said before but your autistic Steve series is so good so life affirming so precious to me..... and so I would like to share my own thoughts on the matter...... Steve who did sports bc he had so much excess energy!! and now he gets the zoomies all the time and needs NEEDS to get outside and run around when the weather is nice...... Steve who thinks he's unforgivably strange and unlovable without his perfectly crafted mask and Robin who says she likes him better without it!!!!.... Steve hyperfixations (feat Steve who reads and frequents the library my beloved, he's so casually curious it just makes sense with his characterization I think)...... Steve full body stimming with Eddie or Robin and feeling amazing!!!!!...... Steve who has set up his space Exactly The Way He Likes It.....

love and light to you ♥️💋🥞🏄🏻

lovely 2jug2head!!! hello!!! ur so sweet!!!

but autistic steve!!! my love!! my guy!!! yesssss!!!! these are all so good! so sweet and lovely and perfect!!! ty for sending me this!!!

(sorry this reply took a little to get too, i've been on my freak shit but finally got few ideas down for u <3)

i think steve would take time learning what stimming and being overstimulated and understimulated means. i think after the upside-down especially, but a lot before that too, he got too used to detaching, kind of separating from his body in order to survive. so now, sometimes, he gets these itches and urges and weird feelings and he just doesn’t know what to do about it. [and i think sport definitely helped him in the past, but i dunno if he would make that connection right away.]

but, he watches robin flap her arms with her sweater sleeves covering her hands. and watches eddie get fucking breathless head banging to a song. he sees robin skip to his car at the end of a shift, looking up at the sky and letting out a 'AHH!' with so so much feeling, cheeks flushed and eyes bright that the day is done, getting in and fiddling with the radio like it’s no big deal. he watches eddie jiggle his leg and bite his rings and stand up and pace when he's talking about something he loves. and steve tries them.

he tries all of them.

he fists his hands and shakes them until something dislodges in his chest, till he can finally take a full breath. he sings loudly along to bruce springsteen and wham in his car in the mornings, sometimes not ever really singing, just making noise. he jumps around his room with robin when she plays blondie, he asks eddie to show him how to head bang, tries it and laughs and kisses him breathless when the song ends. he gives robin his keys and takes off running in a lap around the building after work, sometimes near sprinting, sometimes circling five, six times, going till he's panting and the faces of all the people he had to see that day are washed away, until he can't feel the plastic on his fingers, can't smell the bleach or the too much cologne some guy used. until he's reset, until he's him again, not theirs, not who anyone wants him to be. until he feels good again, lets himself feel good.

sometimes, now, he jiggles his leg the same way eddie does, at the same time, until robin says she has to move 'feel fuckin' seasick over here with you two goblins.' and eddie just laughs. and steve can curl up into his side, if he wants, can pick up eddies hand and bite his rings if he feels like it, eddie would let him, maybe call him cute, wouldn't judge him. neither of them would, if he did that, if he did more. they would never, and its so nice.

<3

["Steve who thinks he's unforgivably strange and unlovable without his perfectly crafted mask" ;-; that's my fcuking GUY. he would and its so :(( !!!! ]

but yeah, robin would hate that fake plastic smile he puts on to mask sometimes. and she'd tell him, with so much love. 'stop it. show me you.' because she just wants to be with steve.

but she’s so wonderful, he just, she gets it. sometimes things that he didn’t even know were bothering him will build and he’ll snap and rant and moan to finally get it all out. lungs heaving as he empties everything out before her. but she’ll just look at it, and seem to place it all in a way that makes sense, a way that’s small and fits in his pocket. she’ll say ‘woah yeah, that seems like a lot / would be stressful / i’m not surprised you're overwhelmed’ and it’s just. it’s so simple. he’s seen, he’s listened too and validated. it still makes him pause, in stunned silence, and it’s like there’s a plaster placed on his heart with every instance that it happens. sometimes it seems to strike such a chord it's like it's hitting a deep wound that he buried inside, a scab finally healing and falling away. sometimes it makes him sob in her arms, overwhelmed and amazed and so so moved by this person he's met, this wonderful angelic creature that he gets to call his.

the next time he has his super masked, customer service face on when its just the two of them, she threatens to bite him. and steve smiles for real, laughs, feels another plaster sticking over the others.

<3

and steve library frequenter yes yes!! i agree that he is curious and practical and i think a hands on kind of guy! so i think he goes to the library and gets books about cars. i think he likes learning about how to fix his, trying to understand what could go wrong, how it happens, what you do in different scenarios. i think that's something him and eddie and wayne bond over, helping to fix their cars. steve and eddie even work together to do up wayne's van a little, getting it a new bumper and a couple parts scavenged at the junkyard. it's fun for him to work out what's missing, what’s changed, how and why and then putting it into practice. taking something apart and putting it back together. makes him feel proud of himself, something he really doesn't feel often. makes his brain zone in and flow and focus for a couple hours and it just feels so nice, its a happy time for him.

also, speaking of special interests - ✨sport stats✨. steve can name the players of all the basketball teams currently playing professionally, likes watching the tactics shows that come on before and after the games. likes talking at eddie and explaining why its actually really cool that they swapped out that player to give this new guy a chance, he's big news, a young up and comer and has a really interesting play style, its gonna work well with how their current manger organises the court. and eddie just smiles at him, squeezing steves hand in his lap and trying to understand what he sees on screen, follow along (he struggles to take in all the information, it's just not his thing. but it makes him so happy when he watches steve watch.) and steves happy little keens when something interesting happens, mindlessly fiddling with eddie’s fingers and tapping his other hands fingers against his knee, 1, 2, 3, 2, 4, 2. relaxed and focused and sometimes he rocks when it gets really tense and eddies heart bursts.

because it wasn't always like that, it was a struggle and a near pleading for eddie to just get steve to tell him what he likes, talk to him, get to know him. to just let eddie in. because eddie wanted to know everything and steve just didn't know how to deal with that. why would eddie care? no one ever listens to him. he's embarrassing and annoying and gets to loud and eddie doesn't like sports so why would steve tell him anything? it took soft words and gentle encouragement and reassurance again and again that he's listening, he wants to listen, wants to know. 'always, always wanna listen to what you have to say stevie.' so when steve comes over to the trailer after work, talking about the latest switch they announced in the paper, how last nights points shifted the league around and now he doesn't even know who's going to win, isn't that cool? eddie fucking beams because this is his boy. his bright, beautiful, exited baby and he’s talking to eddie, he's letting eddie see him.

<3

steve and his space though. thinking very much about that. he doesn’t have the strictest schedule, he’s learning that sometimes its okay to leave the sheets for another couple days, that the dust can settle for another week before he needs to wipe it away. but some things are just, they just have to be right. he needs to know where things are, needs the important stuff in the same place every day so he doesn't forget. needs his products in the bathroom out and in order so he can keep track of when something needs replacing, so he's not left without something he needs. wants this one specific pillow at night, and one for between his knees and a duvet on year round, needs it to feel warm and safe and right in his bed.

and his clothes, its not even about the sensory stuff for him, like yeah most of his tops are soft, his jeans pretty worn in. he has some really old sweatshirts that are special, that come out on the worst days. but it's also about how clothes look, how they make him feel. he want his jeans to fit right, sit right on his shoes. wants his shirts to make his shoulders look nice, make him feel comfortable and confident and like a normal fucking person who can exist in the world. its another part of the mask, maybe. but it works and its his and most of the time he thinks he looks good. and that's okay. he's learning and its healthy and its practical and it helps.

but he also adores wearing eddies t-shirts. when he's at home all day or to sleep at night. especially if eddies not there, when steve misses him, when he wants him. steve wears eddies t-shirts to bed. they're all ones eddies left after staying, they're old and soft and the tags have been cut out and they smell like eddie. like his eddie. like he's there. steve loves it, wraps himself up in it, helps him feel soothed and taken care of even if he's alone, maybe its a little sad, makes him feel embarrassed, too much. but he's learning not to care.

sometimes eddie talks to him and touches him in a certain special way that makes steve feel so so foggy and taken care of and amazing. so, if eddie's not there but he craves that foggy feeling, steve wears eddies t-shirts and he speaks to himself like eddie would and he makes himself dinner and looks after himself and tucks himself into bed and rubs the fabric of the collar against his nose. and tries not to feel embarrassed if he needs more, if he has to suck on his fingers/thumb for a while, clutching the fabric in his hand. tries to let himself whimper or even cry a little if he needs, at how nice it feels, how gooey and needy he can allow himself to get. accept it as part of himself, that eddie likes it, still likes him, still loves him. just something he needs sometimes. and steve falls asleep, wearing eddies t-shirt.

<3

gonna tag a few people who might want to see, hope that's okay? wanna spread him around and show him off!! look at him!!! our best guy!!!

@pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @spectrum-spectre @just-a-tiny-void @steventhusiast @cherrychapsticksteve @lil-gremlin-things @finntheehumaneater @irethsune

[helloalycia]

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐍

summary: when Katniss gets sick and doesn't show any signs of getting better, you fear the worst and have to do whatever you can to make sure she does.

warning/s: mentions of dying + usual warnings that come with writing for the hunger games.

author's note: thanks to everyone who voted on my first lil poll yesterday haha, here’s the katniss one that won! there’s 2 parts and it was written after i just reread all the hunger games books and became hyperfixated on katniss again lmao

i’ll post the jackie taylor yellowjackets one after this for anyone who voted that too :)

two / masterlist / wattpad

I tightened the woolly scarf around my neck, hoping it would do something to keep the cold, bitter air out despite its flimsiness. Winter in District 12 could be unforgiving, but by the look of things from the front window, it hadn't snowed anymore last night.

"I'm leaving, mum!" I called from the front door, grabbing my school bag.

"Have a nice day, hon!" she called back from the kitchen.

When I left my house, the first thing I stepped foot in was grey slush, and I wasn't sure if that was worse than a blizzard at this point. Nonetheless, I sucked it up and headed over to my best friend Katniss' house, not far from my own in the poor, ragged part of the district, the Seam.

We always met at her place before school since it was on the way and we could walk in together, but when I arrived, her little sister, Primrose, answered and looked worried.

"Hey, darling, what's up?" I asked, accepting the hug she gave me as I stepped inside.

"It's Katniss," she muttered. "She won't get out of bed."

Trying not to show my concern, I said, "I'll go check on her. You finish getting ready so we're not late, yeah?"

She nodded and I watched her go into the kitchen to finish her breakfast with her mum, the older woman offering a small smile when she saw me. I returned it before letting myself into the other room of their house, the bedroom that all three of them shared. Inside, Katniss was still in her bed, under the covers and blocking out the light. Whether she was awake, I wasn't sure, but this was certainly unlike her.

"Katniss?" I called, shaking her body slightly. "We're gonna be late, you've gotta get up."

She groaned slightly, not appreciating my interruption, and then seemed to realise what was happening as she rolled over, eyes squinted with confusion.

"Huh? What are you doing?" she mumbled, rubbing her face, and her voice was raspier than usual.

"It's time for school," I said knowingly, before frowning when I saw her cover her eyes with her hand. "Why are you still in bed? Prim has been trying to wake you."

"What...? I don't..." She stopped, before attempting to sit upright, but she squeezed her eyes shut and steadied herself on the bed.

"Hey," I said, much more concerned now, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. "You're not okay. Is it your head?"

She clutched her forehead, breathing out slowly. "I don't know. It hurts, it– god, it's bright in here."

I frowned, taking in her pained expression and connecting all the dots. "You're sick. You should stay home today. Get better."

As if I'd accused her of murder, Katniss shook her head and pulled the duvet off her with determination. "I'm not. I'm fine, I–" But just on cue, a throaty cough rattled her.

"I can stay home if you want," I offered, already pulling the duvet back on her. "Help you."

The last thing I wanted was to leave her alone whilst she was ill. Technically her mother would be here, but she wasn't the most attentive since she'd lost her husband, so it was essentially like leaving Katniss alone.

"No, you don't need to," Katniss gave in with a sigh.

"I don't mind," I offered, resting a hand on hers. "I can–"

"It's one day," she assured me, before clearing her throat. "I'll be okay. Go. Please. Or you'll be late."

I sighed disapprovingly before nodding, knowing one day of rest would hopefully prove to be useful. I leaned forward to hug her, about to wish her well, but she shoved me back quickly.

"Don't or you'll get sick," she argued tiredly, making me rub my chest where she shoved me.

"Ow," I said with annoyance, before rolling my eyes and standing up. "Very well. Lay down at least."

Thankfully, she obeyed which was how I knew she must've really felt rundown. Pulling the duvet to her shoulders, I tucked her in before wishing her well and leaving the room. After letting her mum know what was wrong and to keep an eye on her, Prim and I left the house together.

"She's okay, right?" the twelve-year-old asked me as we trudged through the muddy snow.

"Oh yeah, of course," I reassured her with a smile. "It's nothing. Just that time of year."

This seemed to work, as Prim sighed with relief before smiling too. But deep down, a small part of me was a little worried. Firstly, Katniss never got sick, ever. And secondly, whereas a cold might not take some people out, it could be the difference between life and death in a place where it was freezing and had no electricity. I only hoped she'd be able to sleep it off and recover soon.

All day I was thinking of Katniss, unable to focus much at school. When the final bell rang and we were finally let out, I was relieved, only wanting to check on her and hopefully see some improvement. Our friend, Gale, accompanied Prim and I back home, since he lived in the Seam also, and we all went to the Everdeens to see if Katniss was okay.

When we reached their house, we saw Mrs Everdeen helping someone out as part of her job as a healer, so decided not to interrupt and instead headed straight for Katniss. When we walked in, Prim ran to her bedside whilst Gale and I took in the scene. Katniss was still under her covers, as if she'd not moved all day.

"Hey, Catnip," Gale said, hoping to lighten the mood and stir her awake, if she was even asleep.

An annoyed moan was the only response we got, so I settled by her bedside and pulled the duvet down carefully, revealing her face. Her eyes were closed, scrunched with discomfort, but she was sweating. I felt her forehead, surprised at how hot she was, and my worry was increasing.

"How is she?" Prim asked from behind me.

I cleared my throat, pulling my hand back. "Er, warm. But it could be nothing."

Clearly I wasn't the best liar, since she pushed me out the way and felt her sister's forehead before frowning immediately.

"That's not nothing," she exclaimed, before going for the door. "I'm getting mum."

I sighed, but knew it was for the best. When her and her mum returned, the four of us attempted to coax Katniss awake properly. She was reluctant, but finally opened her eyes when I closed the curtains, blocking out the light that was bothering her.

"You're burning, Katniss," I told her gently, taking her hand. Her mum rested a cold cloth on her forehead, moving her hair from her face, and I looked back to her tired eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm just tired," she said dismissively, yawning. "A little cold."

I exchanged nervous glances with Gale, who was as concerned for her as I was.

"You need to listen to your mum and sister," I told her. "They're gonna help you feel better, okay?"

"I'm fine, I just need to rest," she tried to assure me, but she wasn't very convincing.

"Katniss, please," I said quietly, and she looked to me with dark eyes, softening. "Just listen to them."

She nodded, giving in, and I offered her a small smile before looking to her mum for the next step.

"You should both go home," she said to Gale and I. "You can visit tomorrow."

I nodded, not keen to leave Katniss' side but knowing the best care she could be in was her family's. Gale and I said our goodbyes before walking home.

It was supposed to get better after that, Katniss was supposed to get better. But none of it did. She was still bedridden when I visited her after school the next day, though a little more awake than yesterday and itching to get up and leave.

"My legs work fine," she told me with frustration. "Why can't I just get up and push on?"

"Because you're weak, idiot," I told her, giving her a disapproving look. "You've still got a fever, too."

She frowned petulantly, staring off at the wall instead of me. I sighed, resting a hand on hers, and thankfully she didn't pull away.

"Your mum is taking good care of you," I reminded her. "You're gonna be okay, but you need to rest."

"You shouldn't visit me meanwhile," she said after a moment, finally looking at me. "What if I'm contagious?"

I tried not to smile, the thought of not visiting her sounding insane. "I'll live, Katniss."

She exhaled weakly, not bothering to argue. I swallowed hard, taking in her expression. Circles were becoming deeper under her eyes, showing her struggle to sleep properly, and she was still glistening in a thin layer of sweat. Even now, her hand was hot beneath mine, and it terrified me. But I tried not to think of the worst, instead manifesting positive thoughts the best I could.

Enough positivity to make Katniss puke, that was the goal.

Unfortunately, it only got worse from there on out. It was getting colder the deeper we got into winter, which wasn't helping, and Katniss was missing more and more days off school. And then we finally finished school for the year, and Katniss was still unwell.

Unlike that second visit, she wasn't fighting her weakness anymore, unable to play it tough when her migraines were ruining her. Her fever would break, then return, then break again. I didn't understand what was wrong and I'd never been so scared in my life. Gale and her family felt the same, but her mum was surprisingly consistent with her care, doing everything she could to make her daughter better.

But we all knew what nobody would admit – Katniss needed real medicine, none of this herbal stuff.

One day, I was visiting Katniss, going over more and more now that school was done, but she wasn't always awake when I visited. Thankfully she was today, and when I walked in, her head turned to the door to see who it was. When she saw it was me, she shook her head, unimpressed.

"You shouldn't be here," she said as she always did, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

Ignoring her, I took a seat at the edge of her bed, aware of her eyes following my every move.

"Prim," she began, but I answered before she needed to finish.

"She's at Gale's," I reassured her, making her sigh with relief.

Having Prim seeing her like this always worried her, but I was making sure that the younger Everdeen wasn't always around. Of course, she was stubborn like her sister and sometimes insisted. Today though, she was content spending the day with Gale's siblings.

I looked down at Katniss, noticing how much weight she'd lost these past few weeks. She was already skinny, a consequence of living in District 12, but this was sickly, haunting. I'd never seen her so rundown before and I was seriously terrified that if we didn't get her real medicine soon, she could die. Nobody had a cold or flu or whatever it was for this damn long. She was struggling to eat properly, to stand at all, and she looked like hell. I couldn't just watch her deteriorate like this. Not my best friend. Not the girl I cared way too much for.

"Stop it," she said, an accidental whisper. "Stop looking at me like that."

"I'm not doing anything," I defended, embarrassed I'd been caught.

She knew me too well though. "I'll be okay. In fact–" She paused, and then suddenly attempted to sit upright, but her arms were too weak to hold her up and she slipped right back down. The tears were quick to pool in her eyes, a matching scowl on her face, at her incompetence.

"It's okay," I said sympathetically, taking her hand in between mine.

She squeezed it tight, like a lifeline, but avoided my eyes. A tear slipped from hers, and I pretended not to see it for her sake.

"I need to hunt," she said with a hoarse voice, no doubt holding in her emotion.

"Gale has it under control," I said, only imagining all she'd been worrying herself with whilst stuck here. She was the sole provider for her family, and with her out of action, the responsibilities were piling up.

"He has his own family to worry about," she snapped, before catching herself, instantly feeling bad. Quieter, she said, "It's not enough."

She wasn't wrong, of course, but I would never let her know that. Gale barely found enough to feed his own family, especially during winter, and he was sparing what little he could to keep Prim and her mum afloat. I did the same with what scraps I got, but I was no hunter and couldn't offer extra game like he could.

"We're sorting it," I said confidently. "Your mum and Prim are okay, aren't they?"

She finally met my eyes, hers glassy and exhausted. "For how long?"

It was much harder to lie to her when she was looking right at me, so I cleared my throat and forced a small smile. "All the more reason to get better, right?"

She pursed her lips, looking away again. It was quiet as she laid there, me holding her hand and keeping her company. I knew how horrible it could be when you were sick and alone, so I made sure not leave her side, as her eyes began to flicker close, struggling to fight the tiredness. I moved closer, pushing the hair from her eyes and raking my hands through her roots, knowing she liked the feeling but would never admit it. I was proven right when she let out a deep breath, squeezing my hand in approval, and I smiled softly at how cute she could be when she didn't even know it.

Only when she was out of it did I feel my tears blur my vision, unable to pretend that I was okay. She wasn't looking any better, and I couldn't just watch her like this, unable to do a thing.

I leaned forward, kissing her forehead, and closed my eyes briefly, praying to whatever God was out there that she'd be okay.

Everyone had their special something, a skill they had perfected or a hobby they could get lost in. Mine? I hadn't discovered it yet. I suppose I was doing pretty well in school, so taking tests could count, though it was a shit skill to have, impractical. But hunting, that was Katniss' and Gale's thing. No, definitely not mine.

They'd taken me out once, letting me join them on their weekly escapade. Gale found it hilarious that I moved too loudly, scaring away the prey, or that I stepped in my own trap, getting my foot stuck in the rope. I let him enjoy himself at my expense, knowing it was inevitable. Katniss however, despite the small smile that would ghost her lips at something stupid I'd do, was adamant on helping me. She took it too seriously, showing me how to use her prized bow and how to sneak around better. I'd like to say it worked, that I learnt something, but it didn't. It was safe to say they never took me again.

So, when I found myself in the forbidden woods outside the District 12 fence, with Katniss' bow in hand, I felt like a foreigner. I wasn't familiar with these woods, especially not in winter when it was a completely different ballgame to what I'd 'practiced' in last summer. Katniss' bow was too big for me, and no matter how hard I tried to take her familiar hunting routes, my approach always scared away the prey.

I was out there for two hours, certain my fingers would fall off from the cold, but I refused to give up. I couldn't return empty handed. Gale hadn't been successful last week, and family responsibilities had kept him from hunting today like he usually did. So, I took it upon myself to do it, especially because Prim was so hungry, her little face shrinking the longer Katniss was bedridden. I couldn't let her down, any of them, so I pushed on.

But every arrow I let fly missed its target, and every squirrel I approached scampered off. The sun, hidden behind thick clouds, was setting and it was getting dark out, even though the afternoon was barely over. I had to go home, but I had nothing to show for it. I couldn't even pick any edible plants because everything was frozen. I was a failure.

I couldn't catch a thing; the one job I had, to keep Prim fed, was failing; Katniss was dying and I couldn't do a thing to change any of it.

Tears streamed down my face, hot against the cold of my cheeks, and I collapsed in the snow, unbothered by it melting into the cotton of my trousers. It didn't matter anymore.

She wasn't getting better. Every day I visited her, she looked worse for wear. If it wasn't her fevers, it was her migraines. And if it wasn't her migraines, it was her throat. I was losing her day by day and I felt powerless. I couldn't even shoot a fucking squirrel to help. Nothing was working.

I was going to lose her.

Admittedly, I wallowed in self-pity for a little longer, appreciating having somewhere private to let it all out. It was hard playing it positive and tough all the time, for Prim's and Katniss' sake, when the truth was I was scared shitless. Living in a world without my best friend, the girl I so deeply loved to the point that she'd laugh if she ever found out, was terrifying. I didn't even want to envision it.

It was dark by the time I returned to the Everdeens home. I would have much preferred to go straight home, but I couldn't not update them on my false promise.

"Y/N!" Prim exclaimed when she opened the door, before tugging me in instantly.

"Hey," I said, forcing a smile, and I was glad the redness from the cold disguised my red eyes from crying.

"You're freezing," she realised, before calling for her mum. "You were gone for ages! Come, sit in front of the fire."

I pulled back as she attempted to drag me to the fire, and then her mum appeared and noticed the same thing Prim did.

"Y/N, you need to warm up–"

"I will, at my house," I promised her. "I just came to tell you that I– that–" I paused, afraid of the shakiness of my voice. Swallowing thickly, I said, "I'm sorry. I couldn't– I'm not–"

Fuck, why was this so hard?

"I'm gonna figure it out," I changed my words, nodding confidently. "I'll get some food. I'm sorry. I–"

Prim suddenly hugged me, arms wrapping around my torso and squeezing so tightly that I could have snapped in half from how frozen I was. But I appreciated it nonetheless and returned the gesture, letting out a shaky breath.

"Don't do it again," her mum said gently, resting a hand on my cheek before hugging me too.

I blinked back my tears as I let myself relax in their comfort.

I couldn't just stand by and do nothing anymore, and there was only one thing that I knew I could do. None of us could ever afford the medicine Katniss needed from the doctor in town, unless we traded something valuable, like food.

If I used my tesserae, adding my name another time into the potential tributes for District 12, I would receive a year's supply of oil and grain. Participants could only apply once for themselves, and once for any of their family members if they were between the ages of 12 and 18. I'd used mine for this year, but I could still use it on behalf of my parents. They never wanted me to, but this was an emergency and they didn't need to know.

So, on behalf of them, I used my tesserae and traded that two years' supply of oil and grain with the doctor in exchange for the medicine that would make Katniss better. After describing all her symptoms, he explained how it was some complex form of a cold, rare but deadly. I was lucky I'd got to him in time.

Gale didn't approve of my plan when I told him, trying to talk me out of it. Just like Katniss, he cared about whether I used my tesserae without needing to. I could see it was killing him to watch me do it anyway, wanting to do it himself if he could, but he'd already used all his family's tesserae for the year. It was the first thing he did every time it was available, having no choice since he had a big family.

After I collected the medicine from the doctor, I was quick to return to Katniss' house, giving a rushed explanation to her mum about the medicine and what the doctor said about administering it and how it would save her life.

"Y/N, how did you get this?" she asked once I finished to catch my breath.

"It doesn't matter," I said to her. "But it'll help. We can give her the first dose now."

"Y/N–”

"Mrs Everdeen, please," I pleaded, and she must have seen the desperation in my expression because she nodded slowly and went to make Katniss some tea with the medicine in it. It was a syrup of some sort, so the mint tea should have made it a bit more palatable.

Eventually we both went to Katniss' room, where Prim was sat beside her, holding her hand and chatting quietly. When she spotted us both, she perked up and smiled a little.

"Hey, Prim," I said, returning her smile and joining her side. "How's the patient?"

"She's got a headache," Prim answered, and I looked to Katniss who had a wet towel pressed to her eyes, both cooling her down and also blocking out the light.

"Y/N?" Katniss whispered, though unmoving.

"Yours truly," I said playfully, needing to disguise the permanent concern that was in my voice. "We brought you some tea, Katniss."

She groaned quietly. "I don't want it."

Her mum glanced at me, unsure how to proceed, so I took the mug from her hand and placed it on the bedside table.

"It'll help," I promised her, before gently pulling her duvet down. "Can you sit up for me, please?"

She sighed but thankfully obeyed, allowing me to help her sit upright. She leaned against the bed frame and let me remove the towel from her eyes. I smiled when I saw her blue eyes, though they were fatigued as they had been since she'd gotten sick. Not for long, hopefully.

"Drink up," I encouraged, offering her the mug.

She silently accepted it, blowing on the tea before taking the first sip. Her face scrunched up with disgust. "What is that?"

"New herbal remedy," her mum answered before I could struggle to.

Katniss wasn't impressed, but managed to drink the whole thing, probably because she knew I'd let her go to sleep if she did. After laying back down, I pulled the duvet back over her and pushed her hair behind her ear, smiling reassuringly.

"You should feel better with that," I told her with certainty.

She didn't reply, eyes avoiding mine, something I'd noticed she'd been doing for a while now. It was like she knew she wasn't getting better and was scared to admit the truth, but this was different. This would finally work.

Prim and I stayed by her side until she fell asleep, and that was when I told her about the medicine. The pure joy and relief on her face was enough to let me know I'd made the right decision, and she hugged me so tightly that I almost lost my breath.

"I told you she'd be okay," I said with a small smile, accepting her hug. "And so will you."

"Thank you," she muttered into my shoulder.

I squeezed her gently before we stayed there, sat side by side. She didn't want to leave Katniss' side, and neither did I, but it was getting late and, at some point, Prim had dozed off on my shoulder. Only after I had tucked her into her mum's bed did Mrs Everdeen politely kick me out, forcing me to get some rest of my own at home. For once, I didn't argue it, my exhaustion catching up to me. Plus, I could sleep well knowing Katniss would already be doing a lot better tonight.

As soon as I woke up and remembered the medicine the next morning, I headed straight to the Everdeens place, hoping to see some sort of improvement with Katniss. So you can imagine my surprise when I walked into her room and saw her sat upright in bed, eating an actual breakfast on a tray.

"Katniss!" I said with disbelief, before rushing to hug her. "You're eating!"

She returned my hug and I pulled up a chair beside her bed, studying her curiously. She'd looked like she'd had a better sleep than she usually did, and she was actually holding up her own weight which was an achievement in itself. The medication was working!

The sight of her looking a lot healthier and actually improving from her poor condition brought tears to my eyes, but I willed them away. She'd hate to see me crying over her, but I genuinely couldn't believe it.

"I'm not stupid," she said with a raspy voice, eyes narrowed my way.

I furrowed my brows. "What?"

She frowned. "You think I don't know that you gave me actual medicine last night? There's no other explanation for why I'm feeling better. And I know it's not because of a damn herbal remedy. I was doomed, Y/N. So, what the hell did you do?"

"So you do feel better?"

"Y/N!"

I sighed as she raised her voice. "Okay, look, I'm sorry for lying to you, but you wouldn't have taken it if I'd told you."

"Damn right I wouldn't have!" she snapped, glaring at me. "We can't afford that! Which brings me to my next question. How the hell did you get it?"

I shook my head, looking down at her breakfast tray. "It's not your concern."

"Y/N, I swear to God I'll–"

"What?" I cut her off, meeting her hard stare with my own. "You'll what?"

Her eyes flickered between mine before softening. "Y/N. Please."

I could have given in so easily, just from a simple glance, but I refused to let her bait me. I ignored her instead, shaking my head and returning my gaze to her breakfast tray.

"You traded something," she guessed, back to her irritated self. When I didn't answer, she said, "What? What did you trade?"

Again, I said nothing, neither confirming nor denying, but she wasn't having it.

"Goddamn it, Y/N!" she shouted, but her voice was still weak so it was more of a broken yell. "You can't just sit there in silence whilst I–"

"Stop it!" I raised my voice too, glaring at her.

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

I frowned, eyes pooling with tears. "I was thinking that I couldn't just sit here and watch and not do anything! I was thinking that I was terrified that you would die! That you were getting worse and worse every day, and that I would lose you, Katniss!"

Her eyes were glassy as they met mine. "How many times?"

I scoffed, looking away. "Katniss, not now."

I expected her to yell again, but she said in a quiet voice, "Please. How many times is your name in there?"

I clenched my jaw, crossing my arms over my chest stubbornly. But when I glanced at her, she was watching me like a little girl who'd just lost her puppy, and I couldn't not respond.

"Not a lot," I tried to sugar coat it. "Only twelve times." At this, she released a sharp breath. "I traded two years of food with the doctor. It was enough to get the medicine."

She pushed the tray off her lap before pulling her knees to her chest, hiding her face between them. She was shaking her head and I knew she was crying, the sniffling giving it away. Feeling insanely bad, I sat on the bed beside her and pulled her in for a side hug the best I could.

"It's okay," I told her, rubbing her arm. "I chose to do it, Katniss. And I'd do it again, over and over, if it means you'll be okay."

She shook her head. "You shouldn't have," she said with a muffled voice, her head still tucked between her legs.

"You shouldn't have got sick," I tried to joke, but she only looked up at me with red eyes and quivering lips. I lost my smile, admitting, "I wasn't going to lose you. You don't get it."

I love you, I wanted to add, but I couldn't.

"Neither do you," she mumbled, before shoving me off her childishly.

I didn't get to question her because she pulled the tray back onto her lap and tried to finish off the remainder of stale bread in her plate. I returned to my seat next to her bed, watching as she sulked, ate and gave me the temporary silent treatment. I didn't care too much, as long as she was eating.

Once she finished, I took the tray and put it to the side momentarily, flashing her a supportive smile.

"You finished every last bit," I pointed out. "I'm proud of you."

She rolled her eyes, but that only made me smile more because it meant she had the effort to be annoyed at me, which was something she hadn't had for a while now.

"Did you have your morning dose of medicine?" I asked reluctantly, but needing to know.

She nodded, crossing her arms. "My mum gave it me earlier."

I relaxed. "Good."

Before I could say anything else, the door to the bedroom opened and Prim ran in, a bright smile on her face. Despite Katniss' annoyance with me, she couldn't resist returning her sister's smile, accepting her onto the bed and hugging her.

"You already look so much better," Prim was saying with amazement. "I was so scared."

"Well, there's no need to be," Katniss reassured her. "You didn't struggle too much without me, right?"

Prim shook her head. "Gale and Y/N have been helping. Y/N wouldn't leave. Mum had to kick her out a lot."

I facepalmed, feeling my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. It only deepened when Katniss glanced my way with an unreadable expression.

"Yeah, she has a tendency to not listen," she said, making me roll my eyes.

"She saved you," Prim said to her.

Katniss licked her lips. "I know."

I felt awkward, definitely not wanting the credit, I just wanted her to be okay. But then Prim changed the subject, catching Katniss up on all she'd missed, so I was able to sit back and witness it all, chiming in whenever Prim needed.

For once, Katniss was able to listen and actually hold a conversation. It was heartwarming to see, and if this was what she was like after one dose, I couldn't wait until she'd had the full thing.

[kissitbttr]

i need to see her ask frat!miguel to get her a soda during the most important part of the game (they could be at a basketball or football game) frat!miguel would definitely miss the big goal/shot just for her!!

one thing about miguel that you have discovered, is the love he has for sports and its entertainment.

whether it’d be football, rugby, basketball, etc, you can always count on him to tuning in. he follows sports news on his socials, keeping an eye on every single thing. each day, he finds a new hyperfixation for him to indulge in.

even a month after you and him got together, he took the time to learn what cheerleading is about and added the sport in one of his list. miguel even mentioned one time that he wanted to try out just for fun. he thinks cheerleading is fucking awesome

and like any typical boys you have ever encountered in campus, he tends to get extremely defensive and competitive. especially when he’s betting with the rest of his frat brothers. like the time during super bowl a few months back.

he doesn’t ever want to be bothered. not by anyone. if you see him focusing on the game then please, don’t waste your breathe and try to poke fun at him. he will not let you live another day after that.

however…

“thank you for coming with me, muñeca” he kisses you on the cheek, the moment you two have found your seats. “i know this isn’t your thing so i’m grateful”

with a smile, you two plop down as miguel has his arm around your waist just to keep you safe. “no need to thank me, baby. it’s the least i could do for all of those times you’ve stay put during my cheer practice—for hours”

“gotta keep an eye on those punks who keep their hands on you. don’t like it when i see them touching what’s mine”

“it’s cheerleading, miguel” you giggle at his sudden possessiveness, feeling his hand tugging your thighs to lay them over his lap in which you oblige. “they have to touch me. how am I supposed to be up in the air if they don’t carry me, hm?”

he shrugs,“i could join the team. so i’ll be the one who lifts you up rather than those guys”

you laugh at his response. “oh? and you’re okay with the boys make fun of you then?”

“as if that scares me” he smiles at you with another shrug. “it’s for you anyway, not them. you’re my girl”

the little girl inside of you is squealing too damn loud and you try so hard to suppress the giggles. but it seems like he takes a notice at how warm your cheeks look like to him, which causes miguel to smile even wider,

“i am so in love with you” you peck his lips before the two of you are focusing back on the game that’s about to start.

halfway through the game, you see from the corner of your eye how focused your boyfriend is at the moment. each time the team he’s rooting for scores, he cheers so loudly like the rest of the crowd making you giggle.

seeing him get so happy and zoned in is so damn cute.

“baby?” you lean a bit to the side so he could hear you better,

“yeah?” he responds, fingers circling your thigh since he’s still eyeing the game in front of him.

it’s his way of telling that he pays attention to you.

with a smile, you rest your cheek against his shoulder, blinking up at him in a cute manner. “would you get me a cherry cola from the stall, please?”

you’re not doing it on purpose, you swear (you are). you just like to poke fun at him sometimes during important moments of the game, since he gets pretty sensitive when someone is messing up his focus during matches. you like to find out if he gets upset with you about that.

“sure. be right back” he grins at you, kissing your cheek which makes you look at him with a baffled expression. though you make no mistake in hearing your heart beat just somehow skips a bit faster,

as he about to get up, his eyebrow quirks at seeing your expression. “what?”

“w-why—“ you stutter a bit, shaking your head. “you really going?”

“uhm? yeah?” he’s confused now. is he not supposed to? “why are you looking at me like that?”

“nothing! it’s just” you stop for a moment to smile just a bit and see miguel’s ruby eyes looking intensely into yours as if he’s searching for something wrong. “i didn’t think you would say yes considering it’s the penalty and you wouldn’t wanna miss it…”

hearing that just makes him scoff and roll his eyes, but he mirrors your smile afterwards. “mi amor, they record the whole thing. i could watch the playback when it gets uploaded on the web. it’s fine” he answer, kissing one of your hand that’s intertwined with his,

“i know but—“ you sigh dreamily at your perfect boyfriend with all of his perfect answers. “you hate it when the guys bothers you”

“i’m not dating my frat brothers, i’m dating you, am i?” he chuckles, kissing the crown of your head. “i’ll get that cherry cola and truffle fries for us to share and—oh, or maybe you prefer hot dog, muñeca?”

you love him so much it hurts

—

miguel is so freaking whipped, i’m going to cry🥹🫶🏻💗

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hiya! Saw you took requests. :3

How about Astarion noticing the reader not getting any rest and risking their health due to them trying to research how to help him walk in the sun again? Nose buried in books, looking for any spell or legend so to speak. I'd doubt he'd want to see his love push themselves to the limit for his sake.

Sorting out old requests!

Very self-indulgent since I am working my ass on art projects and I really need someone to carry me to bed.

Masterlist

AO3

Headcanons

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Exhaustion

You want to sleep. Your eyes hurt, and you barely feel your legs. You have no idea what time it is outside, but it doesn't really matter.

You just need to sleep.

But no, you can't. Your whole mind is hyper-fixating on your research.

There must be speeches and projects to let Astarion walk in the sun. Maybe there is even a way to make him mortal, to return to him what was taken, what he was robbed of.

Just a hint, just a hook…

Something that can lead you to answers.

"Love, come here," familiar hands lay on your shoulders. Astarion is clingy like a stray cat who has been finally adopted. He never lets your hand go when you travel; you sleep in his arms (or he sleeps in yours), and wake up to his kisses.

He is always around and you are surprised his presence is never too much.

"Come on, please," he nibbles your ear, forcing you to shiver.

"I am almost done, Astarion," you mutter.

Astarion places a kiss on the nape of your neck. Somehow, it's not sexual—just a tender touch.

"Please," he whispers. "Come and get some rest."

You shake your head. You need to finish reading, you need to…

Suddenly, Astarion pulls away as if you slapped him. You notice panic in his crimson eyes. His posture is stern, and his fists are clenched.

Oh no.

You sometimes forget his mind doesn't work as it is supposed to. He mistakes silence for hostility, a pause for hatred, pleasure for pain, and pain for pleasure.

You've been ignoring him for a few hours, and his brain was torturing him with fear and loneliness.

He thinks he's made a mistake.

Mistakes mean torture.

He turns around and disappears into your shared bedroom.

"Astarion!" You jump on your feet and follow him.

The thick curtain is half-open, letting sunlight inside the room. Astarion sits in the dark corner where he observes the light, but not being exposed to it.

"Love," you whisper, approaching him. "I am sorry. I've been carried away."

He chuckles. "Well, you need some time alone, I should understand it."

"It's not that," you tug him, and Astarion puts his head on your chest. "Love, I've been hyperfixating, that's all. Sometimes I just get carried away."

"So, is everything all right?" He asks.

"Of course. I would have told you."

He smiles and you expect his arms to wrap around you, but instead, he pushes you away to the sun.

"Sit there," he says. An order, not a request.

You oblige by allowing the sun to wash your skin.

"Listen," he finally says. "I know you want to help me. You want to save me. But we don't have much time together. I don't delude myself. Unless you are turned into a vampire, and, gods, I wish you never have to go through the same shit I have to; you are mortal. Don't waste your time."

"But I am not wasting it! I am..."

Astarion leans to you and you are afraid he will get burnt.

"You are. You don't sleep, you don't eat. Your blood is that of a sick person. You are looking for a remedy, and I wish we find it someday, but I don't want you to pay for it with your well-being."

He approaches the window and closes the curtain, blocking any light. Then he lifts you in his arms and carefully puts you on the bed.

You allow Astarion to undress you and then put you in warm blankets.

"You are going to sleep. As much as you need."

"Will you be here when I wake up?" You pout, as slumber takes you.

"Of course", he lies beside you. "I will always be here, my love."

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-alll @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeonchaengs @herautumnmorningelegance

[slut4thebroken]

Smut Prompt List

Trying something new :) send a request for Jason Todd (disclaimer: there’s a small chance I’ll write for him since I’m not hyperfixating on him anymore but it’s not zero lol) or any of Cillian’s characters that I’ve written for and I’ll do my best to write it lol. (Be sure to specify if you want the character to be dominant or submissive cause some of these can go either way lol)

I got these from a few different creators (@mypoisonedvine @dumplingsjinson @sxcret-garden-archive @hawksredfeather @landhoesnorris @organparanormal @thestressedskittles) and just picked the ones I liked.

"where are you going dressed like that?"

"it's not what it looks like!" "is that a picture of me?!"

"do you really think that toy can replace me?"

"what would they think if they saw you right now?"

"I didn't know you could be so obedient."

"no, I'm in charge tonight, remember?"

"if you keep doing that, this might end a little too soon."

"is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?"

"what happens next in your fantasy?"

“You look good with my hand around your pretty little throat.”

“Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me?”

“Like the stretch?”

“Look how pretty you are, taking all of me.”

“If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for a week.”

“Did I say you could stop?”

"That's not how we ask for things, is it?"

“Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.”

“Move an inch and you won’t be coming tonight.”

“You’re so in for it when we get home.”

“Just a little more.”

“I won’t apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you’re taken.”

“God, you feel amazing.”

“Swallow. All of it.”

“Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”

“Show me how much you missed me.”

“Enough, please, I can’t take anymore!”

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?”

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t like getting off on my own.”

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.”

“It’s my thigh or nothing, I’m not helping you get off.”

“You seem more sensitive than usual.”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

“Where did this attitude come from?”

“God, you love it like this, don’t you?”

“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.”

“Why not tonight? I’m even wearing something pretty.”

“Why are you being so gentle with me? I like it when you’re rough.”

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

“It’s hot when you talk back.”

“You’re so messy.”

“Your thighs are shaking so much.”

“Be good for me and I’ll untie you.”

“That’s good, baby, keep doing that.”

“I was good while you were gone! I didn’t even touch myself.”

“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?

“don’t give me that look”

“no panties. you need me that bad?”

“i don’t care how good it feels, you better not come until i tell you to”

“i bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home”

“you’re in trouble now”

“you keep acting like a brat and i’ll take you over my knee right here. i don’t care how many people are watching”

“want some help with that?”

“come here. you can sit on my lap until i’m done working”

“you look so pretty on your knees like that”

“suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me”

“such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“pushing back against my fingers already? how pathetic”

“don’t fucking touch what isn’t yours”

“what are you doing in my bed?”

“is that a tattoo?”

“you know i don’t like to be teased”

“just shut up and fuck me”

“aww, poor baby. do you want me to take care of it for you?”

“i see the gift i got you fits well”

“This cock isn’t going to suck itself”

“I want to fuck you against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it”

“You better watch your fucking mouth”

“I guess I’ll just get off all by myself then”

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice”

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

"Keep your hands away or I'll fucking tie them behind your back."

"Please, come inside me, I wanna be filled."

"Let me come in you, please. I wanna fill you up."

"You wanted this. You can take it."

"Look at the mess you're making."

"Suck on it. Come on."

"Such a good little pup/girl, aren't you?"

"You talk too much. We need to put that mouth to use for something better."

"Is that gonna fit?" "I'll make it fit."

"Use your words, sweetheart."

"Doesn't that feel so good, baby?"

"This is why I get off to you every night by myself."

"Hurry your ass up and sit on my fucking face."

"What's the matter? Can't form a sentence?"

"Look at you... you think you're in control."

“That’s sweet and all but do they touch you the way I touch you? Fuck you the way I fuck you? Mm, yeah, didn’t think so.”

“Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll do the work.”

“Gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.”

“Shh, just a little more…”

“You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now.”

“You want to come?” “Y-yes, I— please—” “Hm, but do you really deserve to?”

“F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Stop fucking teasing me and get to it already.”

“Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now…”

“Look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?”

“Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?”

In a hoarse whisper, “Fuck, you’re killing me here.”

“But you think about me when they’re fucking you, don’t you?” “I… That’s not true.”

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re bossy.”

“S-Stop leaving marks on my neck. I have a presentation first thing in the morning.” “Then I get to leave marks anywhere below the neck?”

“You only get to watch.” “B-but—” “No buts, sweetheart.”

“I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Spread your legs for me.” … “Spread them wider.”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

A whispered, “Then come for me,” right next to their ear after they beg for release through tears and soft whimpers, because they’ve been edged for way too long.

"you promise you're going to behave this time?"

“Beg and maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Say my name.”

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Open your mouth for me, baby.”

“I want it. I want to taste you.”

“I need it! Please!”

“I can't- please I can’t-”

“i told you, you’re mine”

“i’m going to ruin you”

“don’t make me tell you twice”

“If you want to cum you have to beg”

"Look at yourself, all fucked out. Pathetic."

"Is this what you wanted, angel?"

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like…”

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

“Makes me want to wreck you.”

“You’ve never even touched yourself?”

“Show me how you do it when you touch yourself.”

“I can’t wait to take your innocence.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Teach me how to make you feel good.”

“I wanna touch you too.”

“Is it going to hurt?”

“So excited already…”

“Are you sure this is your first time?”

“I’ll guide you.”

“Can I… can I please touch myself/you?”

“Mine. All mine.”

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

“Say please.”

“P-please just”—a sob—“I just need you to fuck me.”

“All yours. Only yours.”

“I want you to say my name like that again.”

“Only I get to ruin you like this, you hear me?”

“You like that, don’t you?”

“I-I promise I’ll be good.”

“God, you feel so good around me.”

“So wet/hard for me already, huh?”

“Turn around.”

“What did I just say?”

[cheriladycl01]

I have just got into F1 and it’s fast become my autistic hyperfixation and I’m glad I’ve found writers like you! I was wondering if maybe you could write something for Nico? He’s my favourite! Maybe reader has a bad crash or something similar to your heat fic where reader faints into his arms/ has a febrile seizure from dehydration and heat stroke after a race? Just lots of hurt/comfort. No worries if it doesn’t inspire. Thank you for doing what you do 💕💕

The Toughest Race so Far - Nico Hulkenburg x Driver! Reader

Plot: After one of the toughest races of your life, you and Nico need to have serious conversation about your health.

A/N! 1) I'm hoping i got the right Nico and you didn't want Nico Rosberg! If you did, let me know and I'll right one for Nico Rosberg! 2) As someone with ADHD, i 100% get the hyperfixation and how much it grips you!

Credit to rookie-ofthe-year for the GIF

You were getting out the car, well trying to and your legs and arms refused to work. It was like they were actually glued to the seat. You just sat there, head ringing not really sure what to do and how to gp forward.

Some of the Stake Team come up to you, checking to see if you were actually alive in the cockpit or if you'd passed out. Your own team hadn't come and found you yet.

They start to try talk to you but nothings going in, and staying in so your communication is ineffective.

You feel void of anything and all the sounds around you are blurring into one. There's a numbness in your hands and legs that is burning but also non-existent, like numbness should be. It was confusing for your mind that had just gone through that uphill battle of a race.

It was like your body was failing on you and you could only sit back and watch it.

Eventually your team, of RedBull come over to you. Not that you could tell the difference between the Stake Suits and the Red Bull ones at this point, faces were just blobs right now and your mind couldn't comprehend colours.

They reach in to help lift you out so your stood up outside the car leant against the body. One of the mechanics has a hand resting on your arm keeping you steady while another reaches to take your helmet off and another goes for you balaclava that's covered in saliva.

However, the minute your legs are left to work for themself with out the support they starts to wobble. Your head starts to spin, and your vision blurs, the last thing you could remember being your body convulsing before you smacked the door where you continued shaking.

"Oh my god! Someone help her!" someone exclaimed as they saw you on the floor and seconds later a medical team that were already on their way heading towards you after being radioed by the team you weren't looking too great.

There were people flooding around you, one of them opened up your race suit that was drenched through.

"Babe?" a voice called as Nico jumped out his car spotting you thrashing on the floor. He himself wasn't feeling great from the heat either but you'd just managed to fight your way from P20 all the way up to P6 to get in the points.

It was probably the drive of your career having set the fastest lap, fastest pit stop and received driver of the day. Despite all the podiums, wins and poles you'd had, this was the drive.

He looked over you as they took you onto the stretcher as you were unresponsive.

"What's wrong with her is she okay?" he asks walking over closer to the medics that were surrounding you.

"We aren't sure but we need to get her to the medical tent right away, please go back to your team!" one of them says while they fit an oxygen mask around your mouth.

Nico spent his entire debrief not really concentrating on what anyone was saying, he wanted to be out of that room as soon as possible and to see how you were doing.

The minute that they concluded what happened in the race and how they can prepare better for hotter races as a team until the FIA but things into place, Nico was out the door as rushing past the Red Bull motorhome that was pretty quiet. They could all tell he was looking for you, and he just knew you were still with the medics from the look on everyone's face.

He rushed into the tent seeing you calmly sleeping but hooked up to a few different machines. The main one an drip, he knew you must be insanely dehydrated, and with your body temperature already struggling to regulate normally he couldn't imagine how much like hell that car felt to you.

"Is she okay?" he asks the nurse that was currently re-doing the braid in your hair that had gotten a little knotty under your helmet.

"Yes, she scared us all but she'll be fine. She's making a speedy recovery thanks to the doctors quickness and efficiency. She lost 6kg in that race which is very dangerous and she didn't drink anything at all during that race, so we've got her on some water and stuff that will pep her up. She had a minor injury to her shoulder where she fell but other than that she's okay. How long have you guys know she struggles to regulate her body temperature?" she explains and asks all in one.

"Since she karted, but she loves the sport to much" he chuckles. You'd talked about this with Nico a lot, you had to train your body harder and be stricter when it came to things like exercise and diets because of the condition.

Nico had said many times that it would be safter for you to stop racing all together but that had caused far to many arguments that he'd ended up on the sofa one to many times over.

He knew you loved racing, because he did as well and he hated when he had to leave the sport when no seat was available. So he knew it was something that wouldn't even be on the table for you to consider but he just wished you would.

For your guys' future, he just wanted you safe and at full health.

"She terrifies me when she gets into that car" he smiles looking down at your peaceful body.

"I can imagine, but ... I'm sure you scare her too. She struggles but I think honesty that makes her a better driver, she knows her limits and breaking points better than anyone. Today was a bade race that I cant see them doing at the same time of year ever again, and there may even be regulation changes that'll help. But ... take it from a career passionate woman. She wont give this up" she smiles to him and he glances down at you with his own smile.

"Oh I know she wont" he grins, taking your hand in his.

"Hey baby" he smiles as he sees your eyes flutter.

"Hey" you say back a little confused, looking around the room your in.

"You fainted and had a seizure" he explains grabbing your hand and rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

"Oh, it was really hot in the car I don't think I ate before the race either because I felt sick!" you offer trying to explain why you were so badly effected.

"You weren't the only one that struggled, Alex, Esteban, Logan and a few others have been down here too. You pushed yourself a lot in that drive, but there's talks of the FIA making some changes for next year!" he explains.

"Mmm, I'm glad their taking action to make it safer for us!" you admit.

"I'm not even going to bother trying to convince you to retire!" he laughs shaking his head.

"We've talked about that before, you know I'm not ready yet. I've been given such a shot in Red Bull!" you smile, knowing he finally understood your view on your career.

"I know, I just worry about you!"

"I worry about you too" you say and pull him down into a kiss.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

[darling-i-read-it]

plsplspls can i request some norman fluff i am hyperfixating on him again 🫶🏼🥲

I was going to write this last night but got tired and have so many thoughts about norman that I wanted to be fully rested. Norman Bates you will always be famous to me bbg

Norman Bates makes me insane

If you want domestic life with a slasher, Norman is the closest you will get in my opinion. Aside from his mother, he truly is just the calmest man who gets anxiety with any kind of flirtation.

Say you meet at the diner when he goes out once. He's the town oddball. The kook. Everyone knows that after his mother died and the highway was moved, everything slightly altered in him

and you move into town and you get a job as a waitress and Norman is the nicest of your regulars. he always comes once a week to get out of the house, never stays for long because he has so much to do, and always gets the same thing.

"Eggs overeasy today Norman?" you tease. His cheeks flush as he goes to correct you, never once blaming you for potentially getting his order wrong.

"Oh u-"

"Scrambled Norman. I know, I was just pulling your leg." He flushes and smiles. He nods.

"Thank you." You maneuvered around him and to the back, dropping off his order. After he had cleared his plate he waited patiently for you to come around with his check. You always came in a timely manor and told him briefly about things that had happened over the week in town.

Today when you came back around, you had a particular smile on your face.

"Your breakfast is on me this morning Norman," you declared. He gave you a confused look. "On one condition." He cleared his throat, nodding for you to go one. "I get to come see your hotel and we have dinner over there."

a DATEEEE??????????

Norman Bates went a deep shade of red and then smiled. He had the most innocent smile on his face, you never would have guessed anything was wrong with him. In the moment he completely forgot about his mother.

he accepted gratefully, saying he would pick things up special. You promised to be by the next day around 5.

you came by the next day and Norman had never seen someone so beautiful. He saw you in your work clothes, your apron usually covered in the muck of your morning.

you were wearing something you thought date appropriate and he had gotten one of his better sweaters out of the back of his closet. One of the ones his mother had gotten for him to wear out.

He was cagey at the dinner.

You couldn't even glance up the stairs. He was already disobeying by having you in the house. But he wasn't cagey enough to deter you from having a good time.

Norman was shy but he had great conversation. All the people who came by his hotel made for great stories. You brought stories from the diner, from before you had moved out there

You noted he didn't have any help out there and he was clearly a busy man.

'Norman have you ever thought about hiring help?"

"Who would be my waitress?"

"I can make you eggs here!"

it was a bad idea. horrible even. Norman knew this but his desire to have you around was so strong, even if it wasn't technically safe for you. How long could he hold his mother back? What if he insured you were always here when someone else was, when there were people in the motel?

He started to try and find reasons to keep you around. Things that needed to be done but not necessarily as soon as he was having you do them.

You helped him paint the outside of the motel. You changed the bulbs in the sign. You got new linens and looked through the logbook for frequent fliers and silly fake names.

Norman couldn't shake it though. His mother would always be there to argue the worst of you. Even if you were helping him and not harming him, even if you hadn't made any actual move.

he wanted to kill his mother. but she was a shut in, she had no one else to help her! he was trapped in a cage of her making, one he could not leave. the dutiful son.

he made the first move. He wanted to kiss you silly since the first time he had seen you, imagining how your lips tasted in shameful nights.

You were helping him in the office. He was back in the parlor while you sat at the desk out-front. You had just checked in a couple, clearly people who were not currently married to each other.

They had used ridiculous fake names. Norman walked back to the front of the room. He looked particularly handsome, wearing a white button up shirt tucked in his slacks.

"If we were fake married, what would our names be?" you questioned. Norman took a bite of the apple in his hand and shrugged. He leaned against the desk.

"Mr and Mrs Disney," he suggested. You nodded slowly.

"Mr and Mrs Flinstone."

"Too one the nose. That show just premiered," he suggested." He looked over your shoulder at the log book. He had gotten so used to having you around, so comfortable with your presence. He liked imaginig the two of you as a married couple. The Bates Motel with two Bates once again.

"Mr and Mrs Disney it is," you teased. You looked up at him and he was so close, his face just hovering beside yours. You smiled cheekily.

Before you had even comprehended it, he had kissed you.

Norman wanted that life. He liked the idea of that life. Maybe his mother would be okay with it if you were married. Maybe he could sway her.

Without even knowing it, you had helped him muster courage to fight his mother. A problem you barely knew existed. You had heard her, you had thought it was weird you had never seen her, but you trusted Norman.

A ring on your finger would be so nice, he thought. So nice.

Finally put a cork in the townsfolks mouths.

Norman took a wife?

[korgidorgi]

Lena Luthor x Reader "Tank Time!"

Word Count: 1,723

Warnings: None, just fluff :3

Lena stops by your place early to help you prepare for game night. A/N: I love imagining this in my head and I've been trying to write it for a while now, i just didn't know how. I love combining my hyperfixations and aspects of my life into my fanfics, and this is one of them. I love my fishies if you can't tell ^w^

The lyrics to your favorite song drift throughout your house and you hum along, sloshing water around your large fish tank. You shove the gravel vacuum into the sand of your tank, sucking up the nasties that have fallen to the base to settle. You barely hear the knock over your music.

“Come in!” You call, unmoving. “It’s open!”

You hear Lena open your door and step in. She pauses briefly to take off her shoes and her jacket before joining you on the other side of your house. You’re elbow deep in rapidly clouding fish water. The plastic tubing of the siphon hose is guiding the dirty water into a bucket on the floor.

“Hey, Lena,” you greet. “Jeez, did I really take this long?”

She chuckles at your predicament, shaking her head. She watches you suck more water out.

“No,” she muses, “I just thought you’d need some help to prepare for game night.”

You hum in response, sending her a small smile. You turn back to your task, watching the brown algae and waste get sucked up the tube. The sand settles back into its place as you lift the siphon up to another spot. You watch your bucket fill, careful not to overflow and flood your floor.

Water splashes as you lift the nose of the siphon out of the water. The sand stirs slightly from the flow. Your fish dart to and from their hiding spaces amongst the rocks and plants that inhabit the tank. One of the discus fish surfaces, splashing a small amount towards you in protest.

Setting the siphon down, you turn towards Lena and the bucket on the floor. You nod your head towards the back door of your house, squatting down to pick up the 5 gallon bucket.

“Could you get the door, please?” You huff as you pick up the heavy bucket.

“Of course!” Lena responds, swiftly pulling the glass door out of your way.

You waddle your way out the door and set the bucket down to the side of your patio door. You go around the other side of your patio to turn on the hose around the corner. You wander back around to the patio to find the hose head. Picking it up, you squeeze the handle, shooting out a jet of water. Lena lets out a small yelp. Your head snaps up to her, noticing she is now wet.

“Sorry!” You call to her, your eyes widening at your mistake.

“What was that?” She tsks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You smirk at her, feigning your ignorance now. “Oh, you mean--” you slowly lift the hose back up at her-- “this?”

You send another jet of water her way. She puts her hands up to shield her face and turns away from you, gasping at your audacity.

“You did not!” She gawks, turning back once you’ve stopped spraying her.

You try to contain your laughter, failing miserably as a few chuckles escape your lips. 

You laugh, “Oops!” Your hand covers your mouth.

She bends to grab the bucket you’d previously sat down, tipping it to spill some water and make it easier to lift. Hauling it up, she steps towards you, threatening you with it.

“Woah, woah,” you plead, pointing the hose nozzle away from her and holding your hands up in front of you. “We can work this out.”

You take steps back down the stairs of your patio onto the grass, hands raised. Out of options, you begin to spray her a few more times as she approaches in hopes to discourage what she’s about to do. Your foot snags on the hose line that's on the ground, causing you to topple onto the grass. You land on your ass with an oof. You look up at her towering over you, bucket in hand. 

“This is payback!” Lena announces, a devilish grin taking over her features.

She proceeds to dump the full contents of the bucket onto your downed form. Cool water splashes across you and your yard, fully soaking your clothes and hair. You laugh, begging for mercy as you throw your hands up in defeat.

“Okay, okay, I yield!” You squeal.

You lay back, sprawling on your yard in defeat.

She smirks, placing the bucket down with a small hmph. “That’s what I thought.”

You rest for a few seconds before getting up, grabbing the hose as you stand. Lena turns to watch you cautiously. You turn the hose towards yourself and spray the nasty fish water off you before heading over to turn the water off, plopping the hose down onto the grass. As you approach your back door, you drip all over your patio. You shake your head, trying to get some water out of your hair, flipping it all around. You then remove your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your bra, and wring it out. You throw it over your shoulder and look over at Lena.

“I’ve got spare clothes in my room.” you slide the door open, beckoning her inside. “I can put your clothes in the dryer.”

“Thanks.” She nods her head at you.

She steps into your house. You close the door behind you and begin to lead her to your room. You open your drawers, grabbing a couple articles of clothes for yourself. You go to leave the room.

“You can wear whatever you find.” You grab the bedroom door to pull it closed. “I’ll get cleaned up in the bathroom.”

You give her a smile, shutting the door and leaving her to get changed as you get yourself changed. Once dressed, you go to plop your wet clothes into your washer, needing to get the residual fish gunk out of your clothes. Lena soon emerges from your room and finds you, sporting one of your favorite hoodie and sweatpants combos. She hands you her wet clothes to place in the dryer.

“Thank you.” She smiles, sticking close to you as you both walk back to your fish tank.

•••

Your fish tank is all clean and refilled in a matter of minutes, thanks to the help of Lena. After putting away the fish equipment, the two of you head towards the kitchen. You’re ready to prepare snacks for game night. 

She helps you drag out bowls and food for the snacks you bought for the night. The two of you get ready to prepare the food.

Your back is to her as you start to chop food for the dip dish. The soft thunk of the knife as it connects with the cutting board rings out to the beat of the song currently playing from your speakers. Your body sways gently to the music. Humming the tune to yourself, you fail to notice Lena approaching from behind. You feel her arms slide around your waist as she hugs you from behind. You lean back slightly into her embrace, letting out a small hum. She lays her head onto your shoulder. You continue to chop until you have enough. You set the knife down and begin placing the vegetables into their designated spots in the dish, ready to be stuffed into the potsticker dough you have prepared

Lena’s arms move to guide you to face her. You move to put your arms around her waist as well, staring into her emerald eyes. Her hand moves to cup your face, moving closer to you until her lips finally connect with yours. Her lips are tender against yours as the two of you lose yourselves in the moment briefly. You decide to gently break the kiss, grinning as you look up at her. You nestle your head into her neck, letting out a soft sigh as you relax against her body. She holds you for a few moments, resting her head on top of yours.

“Thanks for helping me,” you nuzzle your face further into the crook of her neck, holding her a bit tighter.

“Of course, Darling,” she returns, giving your shoulders a squeeze.

The two of you stand for a moment longer before detaching from each other to finish making the food. The two of you manage to barely avoid any fights with food, not wanting to change clothing again. After food is all ready, baked, cooked, and made, she helps you set out the dishes in preparation for peoples arrival. You set out some glasses for the others to grab their drinks with when they arrive, as well as setting up a few bottles of various beverages both alcoholic and non.

Once everything is prepared, you bring Lena over to your couch and pull her in for cuddles while you both wait for company to arrive. You breathe in her scent, sighing contently as you settle into her form, wrapping your arms around her waist. Her arms wrap themselves around your waist as well, holding you against her. She brings one hand up to stroke through your hair and she places a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” she whispers, continuing to brush her fingers softly through your hair.

You settle deeper into her, “I love you too.” You place a kiss to the side of her neck.

The two of you stay like this for a while until a soft knock rings out through the house, alerting you to the first arrival. You drag yourself up off of Lena, the lack of her warmth causing you to shiver slightly. Lena follows you to the door. You swing it open, revealing the iconic blonde.

“Heyyy!” You greet your friend, swinging the door open wide.

She greets you as well, embracing you in a hug. Her eyes land on Lena.

“Oh my god,” Kara panics, “am I that late?”

“No, I’m just early.” Lena assures your friend.

“Lena just came over early to help me set up the arrangements.” You give her a smile, welcoming her to take a seat.

Kara sets a bottle of wine down on your kitchen counter before taking a seat. Before long, the rest of the Superfriends arrive, quickly filling the air with chatter. Food is served, teams are decided, games are lost and won. It’s safe to say your Game Night was a success, especially with Lena at your side the whole way.

[meridasthoughts]

neil doesn’t cry

like ever

tortured? nope

kidnapped? either

you name it, he doesn’t

and neither does andrew

that is why andrew after his last game at palmetto didn’t know how to react

for the last match of the season all the upperclassmen went to watch the game and at the end after the foxes fourth consecutive, and for andrew last, victory they all rushed onto the field to celebrate

after the usual shaking hands with the opposite team, some celebration with the crowd and an unusual refusal from neil to do press duties, they all file back in the changing room to get ready for their night in columbia

at that moment they had already finished the game a good hour ago, they were all showered and ready but still in the stadium because neil still had to get out of the locker room

but since neil abram josten is famous for his fast plays, his smart mouth and a fucking gigantic red target on his back that says ‘hurt me’, and the last time he took too long to get ready he actually received a phone call informing him he was about to get kidnapped, andrew felt the urge to go check on him

it didn’t take long for andrew to notice no one in sight, it took him even less to hear the muffled sobs coming from the showers

and that was unexpected

they would have known if there was someone else other than neil in the changing room since they were waiting right outside the only existing entrance

so he quickly ruled out the option of neil being attacked

the only other option was that he got seriously hurt during the game and that for some absurd reason andrew didn’t notice, so when said that andrew bolted toward the sound it was not an understatement

he was there, fully clothed and washed, crunched on the floor, hands covering his face and at the same time trying to muffle the sounds

there was no blood in sight, which made andrew tick the first point off of his mental list

he called neils name to let him know he was there, since he gave no sign of noticing, and quickly crouched on the ground in front of him, hands trying to unfold all of neil’s limbs to tick all the other points, no blood, no bruises, no articulation twisted in opposite direction and no sign of pain when his hands grabbed

neil was a little taken aback by the sudden presence of somebody else, but quickly recovered when noticing what andrew was looking for

‘i’m fine’ the murderous glace andrew shot him made him elaborate further on his condition ‘i’m not hurt’

regardless andrew finished his inspection, he lied no trust in this man when talking about his well being

being satisfied with finding nothing he finally raised his eyes to meet neil’s stare, the ‘what’s going on’ was implied

‘I-‘ neil lost his words, he was not used to all this display of emotions, and the irrational reasoning behind it ‘I don’t want it to end’

all andrew could manage was a sigh, all the retorts about his exy hyperfixation dying in his throat. he didn’t need neil to further explain, if the end of university almost affected andrew, he could only imagine how hard it must have been on neil. he was the youngest of the original foxes, and although the new foxes were alright, the bond that the original nine had was incomparable

the foxes were neil’s first, and only, family, he agreed to die, instead of running away just to keep playing with them

andrews thumb gently brushed neil’s cheek to get all the tears streaming down, which apparently just had the least desired effect, because it just made neil cry harder

andrew gently grabbed neil’s neck and pulled his face in the crook of his neck, neil was not late to grip his arms around andrew

[c0la-queen]

I’m begging for more EDD X READERS AND TOM X READER PLSPSLPSPSL I NEED MORE EDDSWORLD CONTENT UGHHHHHHH🙏🙏

Turn the Noise Off | Eddsworld Tom x Reader

HELLO, HI OH MY GODS!!! I am BEYOND happy to provide more Eddsworld content for you!! They've been one of my longest and most present hyperfixations for years, those four boys bring me so much serotonin. Since I don't write for him as often as I should, here's some Tom content!! I hope you enjoy and please feel free to ask for more!! Waking up to your request made me feel so so nice!

Warnings: Comfort, Fluff, Astraphobia, Tom is a big softie and I'm RIGHT

Words: 2.3k

---

Fear can be irrational.

You know that. That's why children and even adults can be scared of silly things that reasonably can't hurt them.

Clowns, darkness, dentists, enclosed spaces…

…thunderstorms.

You weren't sure why exactly you were scared of thunderstorms. It had been like this since you were little. The moment you noticed the faintest flash of lightning, you'd rush out of your room and wiggle your way into your parents' bed, fearfully awaiting the booming noise that followed. Now, as an adult, you can handle it in minor doses. Light rain, faint thunder; it made you apprehensive, but you could distract yourself enough to stay calm. It was the stronger storms that set you off.

Like now.

It was probably around 6 or 7 p.m. The sun had set half an hour ago, leaving the sky outside the window an inky black. You were alone in the house - the boys had left to go shopping and pick up dinner. Knowing them, they'd probably be gone for another hour or so.

Normally, you wouldn't be so bad. You were an adult. You can handle a silly storm.

Not this time. Not tonight.

Your noise cancelling headphones were dead.

Sure, you could stick them on the charger easily. But they would take too long to charge. The storm would probably be gone by the time they finished. And in the meantime, you would have still been stuck in this same position. Besides, your brain was running off anxiety, you weren't exactly thinking clearly.

You were in the living room, since you had been watching one of your favorite shows on TV previously. The storm had interfered with the connection, so you couldn't continue watching it in the time being, even if you wanted to. Feeling antsy on the couch, and not being able to find a comfortable position on the soft cushions, you had slid yourself down to the carpeted floor instead. It was soft, but the texture was still a little rough against your skin. It kept you grounded slightly. Enough to know you were there, in your body still. Legs pulled up to your chest, you hid your face in your knees, eyes shut tight. You listened to the torrents of rain crash against the roof, the walls, the windows, battering at the house like an intruder attempting to break in. The thunder rattled the earth, shaking the ground with the power of its volume. Despite the little voice in your head telling you that the storm would pass, you couldn't help but be afraid.

You were going to die. You were going to die. You were going to-

You flinched when something touched the top of your head. With a wet gasp, your head shot up. Was it really an intruder, entrance hidden underneath the violence of the storm?

No, it was… Tom. Dressed in his normal hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. He knelt on the floor in front of you, making sure he was level with you. Even though the black hue of his eyes made it impossible to see any emotion in them, you saw that his lips were bent into a soft frown. Concern. His lips moved, going to speak, but his words were drowned out by a crash of thunder. You involuntarily whimpered, unable to hold the noise back from your throat. Burying your face back in your knees, you missed the way Tom's eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

The hand on your shoulder slid down to your bicep. You could feel the warmth of his skin seep into your bones as his fingers wrapped around it. He pulled -

-and then you were surrounded by the warmth. Your face pressed into something warm. Solid. The familiar scent of coffee and something woodsy with the faintest hint of smoke - fire or cigarettes, you could never figure out - completely filled your senses. It was Tom. He had pulled you into a hug.

You felt your muscles go slack. Pulling your face from his chest, you peeked up at him. He was already looking down at you. Still no emotions in those eyes. But you felt his hands cup your cheeks, gently, as if you were made of glass. His thumbs swiped away the tears that you hadn't even noticed were spilling. They stung your cheeks.

His voice was soft, like he was speaking to a frightened animal. That's what you felt like at that moment.

"Talk to me, sweet girl."

Something in the back of your brain slid into place at the name. An instinctual piece of you that melted into his arms, knowing you were safe right there. You fought past the thick lump of saliva in your throat to speak. Voice raw from tears and anxiety.

"It's just.. the storm."

"I gathered that much. What is it the storm itself? Or something about it?"

There was no malice or bite in his voice. Only tenderness and worry. Care.

"It's, um, the thunder? Or how- how loud it is. And how the rain is loud. It's stupid, I know…"

You sniffled and looked down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. Tom said nothing. It scared you for a moment. That fear intensified when you felt him move, beginning to slide you out of his embrace. Your fingers flew up, curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you clung to his shoulders. He did think it was stupid. He was going to leave you all alone, make you get over this by yourself-

"I'll be right back, baby. Gotta let me go get something."

Finally, you relented. He set you back on the carpet, standing up. You stared at the floor, listening to his socked footsteps fade away. You silently counted the seconds until his footsteps returned, his legs coming into your field of vision. Something fell onto your head before you could look up at him. It was fabric, and carried that woodsy scent of his. Your hand curled into the fabric, pulling it off your head and into your lap. Even in the limited light, you could identify the blue color. It was his hoodie.

Eagerly, you slipped it on over your t-shirt. He wasn't too much taller than you compared to the others, but the material still swallowed you in a way that you loved. It was like a safety net for your brain. When your head finally emerged through the hood, he was already sitting back down in front of you. The smile on his face made your heart skip a beat. It wasn't often you got to see him being so soft.

Tom reached forward, slipping something slightly heavier onto your head. When it was over your ears, you felt all the noise in the room disappear. You looked up at him in awe, making his smile stretch further. He had brought you his own noise cancelling headphones.

With the sounds of the storm cut away, you focused in on his appearance more closely. Since you were wearing his hoodie, he was left in a t-shirt. His hair was mussed, strands of it out of place. You figured he had recently gotten out of bed. When Edd had announced to you that they were going out, you assumed he meant all four of them. Tom must have chosen to stay behind. You weren't sure if it was because of a simple lack of desire to leave the house, or if he didn't want to leave you in the house by yourself. The idea of the latter option made your heart speed up, even if it wasn't true.

You noticed he was looking at you expectantly. When your head tilted in confusion, his shoulders shook. He was laughing at you. While the rare sight warmed your cheeks, you pouted at him in embarrassment. Why was he laughing at you?

Your eyes followed his when he motioned down. His phone was in his hand, screen towards you as it sat open to Spotify. Your gaze raked down the playlists on display. The Best Ska, Quiet Rainy Days, Shut the Fuck Up, Tord-

This were his playlists. You looked up at him in shock. To some, this may have seemed mundane. Unimportant. But you knew better.

In a house with boys who had never known conventional forms of affection, you had learned to spot the little things. To read between the lines of their words and actions.

Music was one of Tom's love languages. It was no secret to anyone that the man loved music, playing bass was his joy and passion during the moments that he didn't have a camera in his hands. For him, sharing his music with others was a show of affection, a glimpse into his brain through lyrics and instrumentals. And right now, he was letting you look through his Spotify playlists and choose one to listen to. Sure, you had listened to his music before in the car, when he had control of the aux. But during those times, he picked the playlists. Now, he was giving you control. It felt… vulnerable, in a way.

Carefully, hands trembling lightly, you took the phone from his hands. You could swear that from your peripheral vision, you caught him grinning. Almost like he was amused with how reverently you treated this act.

Then, you focused your attention on the playlists. There were a lot of them, you realized as you scrolled. Some of the names made you laugh softly. But then, one playlist caught your attention.

She's Standing Outside the Bar with Me while I Smoke

That was way too specific to not be something important. The playlist cover was a picture of a blurry figure standing outside of a building, looking up at the stars. Smoke from somewhere off camera gave the picture a hazy filter. With a jolt, you realized it was a picture of you. You recognized the building, it was the bar in town that Tom liked. The memory hit you suddenly.

It was Tord's birthday, and the boys wanted to go out drinking to celebrate it. Not wanting to miss out on the celebration, you had tagged along. None of them minded.

The bar was nice. You saw why Tom favored it. The décor was all dark wood and dark accents. It was crowded that night. Judging by the big group at the corner of the place, it was likely some kind of party. Maybe a bachelorette, or someone else's birthday. At some point, it had gotten too loud. Even from your little booth on the other side of the room, the music pulsed loud enough that you felt it throb in your head. To try and lessen the inevitable headache coming your way, you followed Tom when you noticed him slip out of the booth and through the front door. The night air had been a comfort to your senses. Tom had seemed surprised to see you, but didn't complain about the company. The two of you stood on the little wood ramp in a peaceful silence. At some point, you had gotten distracted by the night sky, spotting Orion's belt. He must have taken a picture of you during that time, between puffs of his cigarette.

Your cheeks heated up. That meant… this playlist.. was made for that memory. For you. You clicked on that playlist.

Tom must have noticed your blush, because he raised an eyebrow questioningly at you. Shyly, you showed him the playlist he selected. It was his turn to look away, flustered. But, you spotted a smile on his lips.

You set the phone on the ground between the two of you, focusing on the song that was playing. It was slow, calm, and so very Tom. The lyrics made something tight press against your chest. This was how Tom felt about you. This was a hint of how he saw you. You could feel his eyes on you, trying to decipher your reaction.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes. He looked more antsy than you had ever seen him. It was important to him that you liked it. You made sure that your eyes held all the adoration you felt for him. It must have worked, because you noticed the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks. His chest moved in what you recognized as a huff, then he reached an arm out, pulling you into his arms once again. All over again, your body melted into his hold. You closed your eyes.

No storm could reach you here.

You were safe.

--

Edd huffed as he opened the front door, shuffling in to try and escape the rain. Tord and Matt followed behind him, holding the grocery bags while Edd carried the takeout they had gotten everyone for dinner.

Just as Edd was about to call out, announcing their presence, Tord's elbow jabbed into his side. He grunted softly, then glared at him. Before he could snap, ask what the hell that was for, Tord pointed off to the side. Edd's gaze followed that direction.

Sitting on the living room floor was Tom, his back pressed against the couch. You were in his arms, face buried in his chest, wearing his hoodie. Edd recognized the black and white checker pattern on the headphones you were wearing - they were also Tom's. Both of you were fast asleep, chests rising and falling evenly.

Edd felt all his annoyance with Tord bleed away into tenderness at the sight. Joy filled his chest. He just couldn't help it as he shuffled the takeout bags onto one arm and pulled out his phone, snapping a silent picture of the two.

Muffling little giggles, Matt quickly ushered Tord and Edd into the kitchen, leaving you and Tom to sleep undisturbed.