#uh... walk it off champ

[captain-clandestiny]

that was someone's son once.

got help with the colours from palettes "closed eye visuals" and "things always seem perfect in the exposition"

[tender-rosiey]

maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️

you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.

not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.

“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.

“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”

“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”

time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.

the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.

“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.

before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.

you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”

satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”

ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.

he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.

you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”

satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”

ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”

satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.

“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”

you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”

satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.

“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”

you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”

satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”

you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.

you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.

ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”

ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.

he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”

he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”

“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.

he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.

“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”

he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”

he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.

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do not copy or plagiarize

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[venmondiese]

WEIRD HOBBIES

-ˋˏ| summary: you meet a guy in a bar and decide to go back to his place, as weird as he might seem.

✧ | Pairing: Martin (in the modern world) x reader

✧ | word count: 2.3k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f/m receiving), 69 position, Martin is weird as hell but a pussy eating champ! Not beta proof<3

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man. 

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one. 

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard” 

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?” 

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-” 

Great. 

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette. 

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well. 

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass. 

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard. 

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face. 

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself. 

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan. 

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt. 

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath. 

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit. 

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper. 

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth. 

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock. 

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock. 

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane. 

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more. 

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth. 

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it. 

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum. 

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side. 

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly. 

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated. 

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window. 

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse. 

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes” 

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care. 

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten” 

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk. 

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies. 

[archangeldyke-all]

do you think that sevika and her wife ever flirt a little with the younger dykes at the bar just for funsies.. like they're just so fun to fluster and it's not like we'll be taking them home. but maybe we'll buy them a few drinks and give them a story to tell their friends

FUCK YEAH I DO

men and minors dni

since the beginning of your relationship, you and sevika have joked that ran's your alternative. if one of you ever dies, you've got ran on the backburner to step in. ran always laughs when this comes up. "i'd be fuckin' crazy to marry one of you."

they're attractive, respectful, funny, communicative, and best of all: after a drink or two they're incredibly easy to fluster. one of you and sevika's favorite games is to count how many times you can make ran blush in a night.

it's fun to fluster them. it's fun to pull your wife in for a kiss-- a little sloppier than polite-- and pull away to catch ran quickly tearing their eyes away. sevika claims ran's her baby butch-- that she's taken them under her wing. she calls ran 'sport' and 'champ' and other butchy nicnkames, and you watch in delight as ran turns bright red and starts flipping the pair of you off.

and, on one or two occasions, you've invited ran to bed with the two of you.

each time instead of a threesome, it ended up being a friendly competition between you and sevika to see who could make ran cum more.

it was a great time for all three of you, but it made it pretty clear to you and your wife that you're both too possessive to share each other with someone else.

but making a third party flustered together? yeah... that seems to really get the two of you going.

so, from time to time, the pair of you'll get dressed up and you'll go to one of the dyke nights at your local gay bar. you'll dance and drink for a while, kissing occasionally in your little corner, just enjoying the time together.

and then... maybe there'll be a lonely dyke at the bar. or they're standing awkwardly in a corner, young and unsure of themselves. or she's being loudly talked over in a group conversation.

sevika will pout a little watching whoever it is, and you'll giggle as you tug her behind you to go make friends.

"so, gert, what's a beautiful young lady like yourself doing here alone?" you ask.

the girl sputters on the drink sevika just bought her. beside you, sevika chuckles a little.

"uh-- i--"

"ignore her, she's such a flirt." sevika cuts in, chastising you. you roll your eyes and lean back against her chest. "what do you do for work, gert?"

"i-i'm a dj. and a barback. and a barista, sometimes."

"a multi-talented woman. impressive." your wife purrs. gert gulps. you grin.

"y'know, we know a few bar owners who are always looking for new talent to showcase. you ever heard of the last drop? gay owned, they treat their workers really kindly--" you trail off as sevika passes a post it note with silco's information scrawled onto it.

"that's the owner. call him tomorrow at ten and tell him sevika recommended you. that is, if you want another gig..." she says.

gert blinks down at the post-it in shock. "the last drop's huge." she whispers.

"don't let silco know you've heard of 'em, it'll only inflate his ego." you say with a giggle. sevika snorts and kisses your cheek. gert's eyes dart between the two of you.

"is... is there... a catch?" she asks.

you and your wife burst into laughter. "oh, janna, no!" you laugh. "no, honey, we were just gonna buy you a drink a flirt a little-- the dj hookup is really just a lucky coincidence."

"oh. so i don't have to go home with the two of you to thank you?" she asks, sounding a little disappointed.

sevika cackles before speaking. "i'm afraid not, doll. don't sweat it, though, you're adorable. you'll find someone to take you home in no time."

gert gives you both a genuine hug before you decide to call it a night, trailing out into the night with your wife wrapped around you, both of you drunk and giggling as you walk home.

"she was so fucking cute." sevika laughs.

"fuck, she was. she wanted you real bad." you say.

"she wanted both of us, baby. can't blame her though."

you burst into laughter, before pulling sevika in for a nasty, sloppy kiss. "i really can't." you agree.

(two months later, gert's djing at the last drop when mylo, her new boyfriend, introduces her to his aunts. gert almost passes out as she tries to find a way to explain to mylo how, exactly, the three of you have met before.)

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

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[lionneee]

Dragon’s Egg

Masterlist

Taglist

English is not my first language, please be kind

Modern!Enemy!Aemond x Brother'sGirlfriend!Fem!Reader

•Warnings: cheating, pin, riding, kissing, explicit contents.•

Part One -> Part 2

“Hey baby.” Aegon smiled as he opened the door for her, letting her in.

“Aegon’s not here.” Aemond looked down at her, his eye cold as always.

“I’m not here for Aegon.” She answered simply. Aemond’s lips curved into a smirk, and he grabbed her hand, yanking her inside.

“Hey.” She smiled as she walked inside, giving Aegon a quick kiss.

He pushed her back, towards the stairs, his hand wrapping around her neck to pull her against him, his lips crushing with hers, his tongue invading his mouth.

“Told you you’d be back for more.” He growled as he picked her up. “Greedy, greedy girl…” He shook his head as he led her to his bedroom, walking past Aegon’s door.

“My parents are not hom.” Aegon said as he took her hand. “My brother is in his room, you don’t have to worry about him.” He smiled as he looked down at her body appreciatively.

He walked her to his bedroom, her eyes darting quickly to Aemond’s bedroom door, slightly open.

“Why don’t you give me a nice ride, mh baby?” Aegon closed the door behind her, hsi hands cupping her face.

“Strip. Now.” He ordered as he dropped her on her feet, looking at her expectedly.

She started to take off her sweater, but Aegon pulled her hand.

“I can’t wait. Just get on me.” He said as he laid on the bed, lowering his pants.

She was standing naked, Aemond’s single eye roaming all over her body as he slowly palmed himself over his pants.

She never felt more beautiful.

“Oh, God Aegon-“ She moaned as she lifted her hips, falling right back down on her boyfriend’s cock, her hands pressing down on his chest for leverage.

“Fuck!” She moaned as Aemond pushed her down on the mattress with his hand around the back of her neck, her hips where high, as he fucked her from behind with high force.

“Yes, baby—“ Aegon moaned as he twisted her nipple with his fingers, watching her as she rode him like a champ. “Fucking moan for me.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled as he slapped her ass harshly, trusting again, pushing her body forward. “Lower your voice, bitch.” 

“Jump on that cock baby-“ Aegon moaned as he squeezed her ass, making her moan louder in response. “Show me how much you love it.” Aegon’s eyes were glued to where their bodies joined, watching the lips of her cunt swallow his cock every time she lowered herself on him.

She tried to lower her voice, but he was fucking her so fast and good, it felt impossible, and the way he slapped her ass from time to time did not help.

“I said, shut up.” He growled. “God, you act like such a whore.” He mocked her as he gave her one particular thrust, making her body jolt forward more than usual. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her right back to him, grinding his hips against hers. She gasped loudly, raising on her hands but Aemond pushed back down on the mattress, pressing her face down. “At least these moans are real, uh?” He chuckled. “Not like when you fuck my brother, moaning so loud just because you think it’ll annoy me.”

“Aegon!” She moaned as she kept jumping on his cock, keeping her legs spread for him to see.

“So pretty, baby.” He smiled as he looked up at her face. “So fucking gorgeous.” He started rubbing her clit. She closed her eyes and threw her head back.

Finally.

Aegon was never one to put a lot of effort in anything. 

She was surprised he never cheated on her, it actually seemed like he really liked her.

It started like sex, but then he suddenly asked her to be a serious couple.

She was always on top, she was always doing all the work. But he was sweet, and kind to her.

But she wasn’t sure if it was love, or a strange relationship of friends with benefits.

She cared for him, and he cared for her, but none of them ever said the three words.

“Aemond-“ She moaned against the mattress, the sound muffled. “Fuck! Yes!” She moaned loudly as he thrusted faster than ever.

“Fucking whore.” He moaned. “Fucking squeezing my cock like a slut.” 

Aemond was a whole nother level.

She knew she couldn’t stand him, her feelings for him were clear as ever, and she was sure of his too.

They hated each other.

Sex was another level, he never let her on top, the first time she straddled his lap, he shoved her down on the bed and slapped her ass until it turned red, then he fucked her stupid for hours.

She wasn’t sure what led them to this.

Every time she came over at their home, they would exchange hateful looks or ignore each other.

But one time, Aegon was late, and she was forced to wait for him with Aemond in their empty house.

Insult after another, they ended up in the bedroom.

He dominated her. 

He degraded her, he was everything but gentle, and he refused to let her make a move if he didn’t say so.

She loved it, but she still hated him, and those feelings combined made her even more turned on.

“That’s it, baby, come on my cock like the good girl you are.” Aegon bent his arm, his hand resting behind his head, his other hand still circling her clit lazily.

“Rub faster.” She said as she looked down at them, grinding her hips against him.

“Fuck — You’re about to come?” Aemond smirked as he kept fucking her onto the mattress. “Come on, slut. Show me.” He slapped her ass again, it was already being red. “Show me how much the cock that you hate makes you feel good.” He gave a harder thrust, making her moan louder and roll her eyes in the back of her head. He clenched her hands around the blankets, her teeth clenched and eyes shut.

“Fuck!” Her moan was almost a yell, she could already feel how strong her orgasm was about to be, and she loved it.

“Aemond!” She nearly screamed as she came around him, her walls spasming repeatedly around his cock, squeezing him for all he’s worth.

Her knees failed her, and she fell flat on the mattress, but Aemond followed her down, giving her a few more thrusts, enough to make her start squirm before he came too, filling her with his hot seed.

“I’m gonna come, baby.” Aegon warned her as he threw his head back. She moved his hand away and started rubbing her clit herself, feeling on the edge as well.

“Me too.” She panted. She moaned again, then, they both fell over the edge.

She couldn’t help it. As much as she cared for Aegon, there was to paragone with how Aemond could make her feel.

Aemond knew how to take things slow, how to tease her, how to make her beg for his cock.

Aegon always got straight to the point, which was actually what attracted her at the start, but there was no anticipation, just the repetitiveness of the act, the pleasure at the end.

Aemond made it all terribly pleasuring. He could make her wet with a simple look, he knew how to tease her with his fingers until she couldn't handle more, he knew how to make her legs tremble with his tongue, and how to take her ability to walk with his cock.

“Fuck! Aemond!” She moaned loudly as she fell on top of him one last time, her walls spasming around his girth.

“What did you say?”

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe @sapphirevhagar

[rhiannonsknife]

— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 2)

— summary: your first date with nat takes an unexpected turn.

— warnings: fluff. lots of period typical & internalized homophobia. angst. hurt/no comfort (yet). fem!reader. also i don’t know shit about bowling or soccer.

the next evening, you show up at the bowling alley ten minutes early, too giddy to keep pacing back and forth in your room.

the place is exactly what you expected: slightly dim, neon lights flickering over rows of well-worn lanes, the faint smell of fried food hanging in the air. it’s loud and feels worlds away from your usual hangouts, not at all what you thought nat would suggest and busier than you expected for a weeknight.

nat arrives right on time, striding in with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket. she scans the room for a second before her gaze lands on you. immediately, her lips twitch into a smirk, and she saunters over to where you’re standing.

“didn’t think you’d actually show,” she says by way of greeting and stops in front of you.

you roll your eyes, trying not to let her see just how much you’ve been looking forward to this. “i’m not the flaky one, remember?”

nat huffs a laugh, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. “fair point. ready to get your ass kicked?”

“oh, please,” you scoff. “you already admitted you’re terrible at this!”

“yeah, but so are you. let’s go!” she says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the counter to rent shoes.

as it turns out, nat wasn’t lying: she is terrible at bowling. her first two frames are instant gutter balls, and her third also veers off almost immediately, careening into the gutter with a dramatic thunk. she straightens up, staring after it for a moment, then turns to you with a deadpan expression.

“your turn!”

you burst out laughing from where you’d been watching her. “that’s it?“

“what?” nat shrugs. “think you’re gonna be any better?”

“wow,” you tease as you walk past her and grab your ball. “so much hope in me!”

she leans against the scorer’s table, crossing her arms as she watches you line up your shot. “show me how it’s done, hotshot!”

you’re determined not to make too much of a fool of yourself, though the bar is already ridiculously low after nat’s poor attempts. you square your shoulders, take a deep breath, and let the ball roll. for a brief, shining moment, you think you’ve nailed it. until it teeters off course and tumbles into the gutter about halfway down the lane.

behind you, nat laughs so hard you’re worried she might actually fall over. “nice job,” she says. “real pro move there!”

“oh, shut up,” you mutter, but you’re grinning too, the sting of failure softened by how ridiculous the whole scene feels.

you take another ball from the rack, determined to redeem yourself. this time, you actually take your time lining up the shot, glancing back at nat, who’s lounging against the table with an amused grin.

“focus, champ,” she teases. “no pressure!”

“uh huh,” you shoot back, shaking your head. you roll the ball, watching it glide smoothly down the lane. for a moment, it looks like it’s going to hit dead center before it veers to the side, taking out an astounding amount of three pins.

nat bursts into laughter, and you groan dramatically. “are you serious?”

“hey, three’s better than none,” she says, clapping slowly. “progress!”

“wow, thanks for the support,” you say, returning to the table and plopping into the chair beside her.

“anytime,” nat replies, still chuckling. she’s next to grab a ball and saunters up to the lane. her casual confidence is almost convincing…until she bowls another gutter ball.

by the fifth frame, you’ve given up on trying to win and are instead competing to see who can make the worst shot. nat perfects a move where she lazily tosses the ball underhand, watching it crawl its way to the pins at an impressively slow pace. it knocks over exactly one pin, and she doubles over laughing.

you’re holding up a hand as tears of laughter blur your vision. “they’re going to kick us out for disrespecting the sport or something!”

halfway through the game, you’re sitting side by side at the table, splitting a basket of fries nat insisted on getting. even with the chaos around you, the occasional strike followed by whoops of celebration, your attention keeps drifting back to her.

nat catches your not so subtle staring and raises an eyebrow. she dips a fry into the remains of ketchup and asks: “what?”

you quickly shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat. “nothing. just…you’re really bad at this,”

she smirks, popping a fry into her mouth. “yeah, well, you’re not much better!”

you laugh, nudging her with your shoulder. “fair enough!”

there’s a pause, comfortable and easy, before she speaks again. “you know, i kind of like this.”

you glance at nat sideways, surprised. “bowling?”

“no,” she says, rolling her eyes. “this. you. not being so…cheerleader-y!”

you stomach flips again, but you keep your voice light. “and here i thought you loved my pom-poms!”

nat grins, shaking her head as she hops up to her feet. “come on! i still have to finish this!”

“oh, please,” you say, leaning forward to steal a fry of your own. “we’re both disasters. let’s just call it a tie and save ourselves the embarrassment!”

nat’s grin widens as she shakes her head. “no way! i’m committed now. this game isn’t over until one of us manages a strike!”

“a strike?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “we’ll be here all night!”

“good,” nat says. “i’ve got nowhere else to be!”

unsurprisingly, neither of you manages a strike. by the time you finally give up, the scoreboard is a tragic display of gutter balls and spare attempts. still, your sides ache from laughing too hard at nat’s increasingly dramatic reactions to her missed shots.

“well,” you say, slipping your bowling shoes off at the rental counter, “i think it’s safe to say we’re not getting scouted for the pro leagues anytime soon!”

nat tosses her own shoes onto the counter with a loud thud, shrugging. “hey, speak for yourself! i’ve got potential!”

you shake your head, grinning. “maybe next time we stick to something less physical?”

the words are out before you have time to consider their implications. judging by nat’s attitude before, you wonder if she’s even up for something like a ‘next time’ or if she’s counting down the seconds until she can get out of here.

the way she’s smiling -unlike anything you’ve ever seen in school- does seem like she’s having at least as much fun as you though. and instead of turning you down, she’s nudging you with her elbow. “what about the arcade? i think i’ve got enough energy left to kick your ass at air hockey too!”

“you’re awfully confident for someone who couldn’t break 60 in bowling,” you tease, following her toward the neon glow of the arcade that’s tucked into a different part of the building.

nat just glances back over her shoulder, grinning. “you’ll see!”

the arcade is alive with sound and light and you wander through the rows of machines shoulder to shoulder, eventually stopping at a basketball free-throw game.

“alright,” nat says, cracking her knuckles. “let’s see what you’ve got, cheerleader!”

“oh, please. you’re the one on a soccer team,” you reply, gesturing at the hoop. “shouldn’t hand-eye coordination also be your kind of thing?”

“soccer,” she deadpans. “not basketball. but i guess we’ll find out!”

nat does manage a solid lead at first, sinking several shots in a row while you struggle to keep up. when her aim falters, and you take your chance to catch up, scoring three baskets back-to-back just before the timer runs out.

“okay, okay,” she says, raising her hands in surrender as the scoreboard flashes your victory. “maybe i’ll stick to soccer!”

“what was that about destroying me?”

nat rolls her eyes, grabbing the tickets that spit out from the machine. “beginner’s luck. don’t get used to it!”

you’re still laughing when you pass a pair of shooting games tucked into the corner of the room next. she instantly slows, her attention caught by the pixelated zombies on the screen.

“oh, we have to play this,” nat declares, stepping toward it. “let’s see who’s got better shooting aim!”

she’s already grabbing one of the plastic guns and hands the other to you. “come on! i’ll even give you a head start!”

you hesitantly take it from her, your fingers fumbling to hold it correctly. the machine comes to life as nat inserts a few quarters. the game starts with an obnoxiously loud intro and an animated announcer yelling about a zombie apocalypse while dramatic music plays in the background.

“okay, ready?” nat asks, aiming her gun.

“i think so,” you say, mimicking her stance.

she takes the first few shots like a pro, hitting targets with surprising accuracy. the same can’t be said for you: your first shot misses so badly that she actually pauses to laugh, nearly getting hit herself in the process.

“you’re supposed to aim at the zombies, you know?”she teases.

“i am aiming at the zombies!” you reply, adjusting your grip on the gun.

nat glances at you, then laughs. “what are you doing? you’re holding it like it’s a water pistol!”

you huff. “well, excuse me for not being an expert at fake guns!”

nat shakes her head, grinning. “here, let me show you!”

before you can argue, she steps behind you, her arms brushing yours as she adjusts your grip. nat’s hands settle over yours, guiding you to hold the gun steady. “like this,” she says softly, her voice so close to your ear that it sends a shiver down your spine.

you nod, thought your brain feels absolutely scrambled. you’re hyperaware of just how close she is, the warmth of her hands over yours, the faint smell of her cologne.

“see?” she continues, her voice low and her breath warm against the back of your neck. if nat is aware of the affect that she has on you, she won’t let it show. “now you can actually aim!”

“yeah,” you manage. you’re not sure you’re even looking at the screen anymore.

her fingers linger for a second too long before she steps back. you exhale, trying to shake off the heat rising to your face, and focus on the game instead.

it continues, and though you start hitting a few more targets, nat still dominates the scoreboard all throughout the game. by the final round, both of you are frantically firing at the screen, shouting instructions at each other and laughing whenever one of you misses.

the neon lights of the arcade reflect off nat’s face as she occasionally grins at you between firing shots. for this moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. it feels like the kind of moment you’d envisioned yourself having time and time again, not once thinking somebody like you would ever live this kind of reality. now here you are, with nat scatorccio out of all people.

then, just as the next wave of pixelated zombies is about to appear on screen, you catch sight of someone out of the corner of your eye: a figure standing near the claw machine. familiar. too familiar.

your stomach instantly twists at the sight. it’s her. she’s leaning casually against the side of the machine, her arms crossed as she watches you. even surrounded by a group of friends, some of which you recognize from cheer practice, her eyes are on you and nat.

panic rushes through you suddenly, and you feel the familiar urge to get out of her eyesight as fast as possible.

“hey, uhm, give me a second,” you mumble, setting the plastic gun down.

nat straightens, her smile fading into concern. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you say quickly, forcing a smile and an unconvincing thumbs up. “just…bathroom. be right back!”

you weave through the crowd, your heartbeat thundering in your ears and drowning out the noise of the arcade around you. the bathroom door swings open with a soft creak, and you step inside, bracing your hands against the sink.

the harsh fluorescent lights make everything feel too bright, too sharp. you grip the edge, your knuckles turning white.

she saw you. she saw you laughing with nat, leaning close, acting like you didn’t care about the looks, the whispers she used to care about back when you were sneaking around. she won’t just let that slide.

when the door swings open behind you, you don’t need to turn around to know it’s her who steps inside.

“didn’t think i’d see you here,”

your meet her eyes in the mirror, your reflection pale and tense. “what do you want?”

she steps inside, letting the door shut behind her. “relax. i’m just saying hi!”

you turn to face her fully, crossing your arms in front of you like a shield. “hi. now leave.”

she ignores the demand, only steps closer instead. “i didn’t know you were into arcade games,” she says, raising a brow. “or that you were hanging out with yellowjackets…?”

your nails press crescent moon shapes into the palm of your hand as you attempt to stand your ground. it’s always been hard with her, when she’s so used to getting whatever she pleases.

“it’s just funny. i thought you didn’t even like soccer?” she tilts her head. “so what’s this then? some new hobby?”

your throat feels dry as you try and find your voice. “it’s not- nat and i are just hanging out!”

“right” she says, dragging the word out.

“what do you want?”

she shrugs, stepping further into the bathroom. “just curious. you’ve been avoiding me, and now here you are, cozying up to scatorccio of all people!”

you flinch at her tone, the condescension in the way she says nat’s name. “it’s none of your business!”

“oh, but it is,” she says, her voice sharpening as she hisses: “do you have any idea how that looks? you’re not exactly subtle, you know? half the arcade probably thinks you two are…” she trails off.

you stomach churns. you doubt she’ll ever change: apparently, even being associated with somebody who might be queer is too much for her to handle. “so what if they do?”

her eyes narrow. “so what? are you serious right now?”

you feel your hands curl into fists at your sides. “what are you trying to say?”

“all i’m saying is that you’re playing with fire,” she snaps, her voice rising. “people talk. and if you’re not careful, you’re going to ruin everything for yourself!”

your breath catches. “ruin what? there’s nothing to ruin!”

“oh please!” she takes another step closer. “you think people are just going to be okay with it? you think you’re going to waltz around with your little soccer girlfriend and not have it blow up in your face?”

you swallow hard. “nat’s not my girlfriend!”

“that’s not the point,” she says, her tone growing harsher. “the point is you’re going to make things harder for yourself! and for what? for her?”

you feel your eyes sting. you hate that she can still get to you like this. “why do you even care? you made it clear you didn’t want this!”

“because i didn’t want to ruin my life,” she says, her voice rising. “do you know what people would say if they knew? if they knew about us? about you?”

“you act like i’m the problem,” you manage to scoff. “like i’m ruining everything. you’re the one who’s scared. you’re the one who can’t deal with who you are!”

“i know things about you!” she snaps then. “things i could say. people i could tell!”

your breath hitches all over again, the weight of her words -of the threat- pressing down on you like a physical force.

before you can respond, the door swings open again, and nat steps inside. her eyes immediately lock onto yours, and then dart to your ex, her jaw tightening. she might not know who she is yet, but you’re sure nat can put two and two together.

“what’s going on here?”

“nothing,” your ex says quickly, straightening up. “we were just…talking!”

nat doesn’t look convinced. she steps closer, positioning herself between you and her. “didn’t sound like just talking!”

“jesus, relax natalie,” she rolls her eyes. “this has nothing to do with you!”

“it has if you’re upsetting her,” nat says.

your ex falters, her confidence wavering under nat’s steady gaze. she looks at you one last time, scoffing, her expression a mix of anger and something almost like regret. but then she turns on her heel, brushing past nat as she storms out of the bathroom.

“hey,” nat immediately says. “are you okay?”

you nod, but the tears spill over anyway. “i’m fine,” you mumble, quickly wiping at your face.

nat steps closer, her presence steadying in a way you never knew before. “you don’t have to be,” she assures.

“she’s just…” you trail off, struggling to find the words. “she’s like that because of her own stuff. it’s not about me. not really”

nat nods, “i get it, but it still sucks!”

you let out a weak laugh, the tension in your chest loosening just a little. “yeah. it does,”

she hesitates, then reaches out, her hand brushing your shoulder. the touch is brief at first but grounding, and when you don’t turn away, nat dares to pull you into somewhat of a half embrace, unsure but no less comforting.

“come on,” nat mumbles after a moment. “let’s get you out of here, yeah? i’m not letting you have another breakdown in a bathroom over her on my watch, cheerleader!”

the next morning feels like stepping into an entirely different world altogether: the fight in the bathroom with your ex is a long forgotten, thanks to nat’s attempt to cheer you up, and your heart is still buzzing from your time with her.

she’d driven you home after the arcade, and though nothing happened, not a kiss, not even holding hands, you’d caught yourself smiling like an absolute idiot in the passenger seat, replaying the way she’d looked at you all night.

now, even the seemingly endless monotony of class seems oddly tolerable: you actually find yourself sitting through lectures without doodling in your notebook or counting the minutes until lunch. when you spot nat across the hallway between classes or across the room in your one shared history lesson, the sight of her messy hair or a flash of her smile is enough to send a flutter through your chest.

the good mood follows you right up until you step into the gym for cheer practice after school.

something feels off the second you walk in. the usual buzz of chatter and laughter feels stilted, replaced with something tense. any talk is cut off as soon as your sneakers squeak against the polished floor. a quick glance around confirms a suspicion that’s already creeping up on you: people are watching.

and not just glancing, staring.

your tighten your grip on your gym bag, a knot forming in your stomach. your steps falter as you approach the lockers and the murmur of voices picks up again behind you.

“…makes sense, though, doesn’t it?”

“i mean, it’s gross, right?”

“does coach even know?”

you drop your bag by the lockers and start stretching near the mats. the whispers don’t stop. if anything, they grow louder, their words becoming clearer until there’s no pretending you don’t hear them anymore. when you glance toward the group huddled near the bleachers, you see the pointed looks, the smirks, and the unmistakable glare from your ex:

she’s standing at the center of the group, arms crossed, a clearly self-satisfied smirk plastered across her face.

finally, you stand, brushing off your hands, and take a step toward them. “what’s going on?”

the chatter stops abruptly, as if none of them were expecting you to call it out. for a moment, nobody answers, but then she steps forward.

“oh, nothing,” she says, looking around. “we were just talking about how interesting it must’ve been for you, being on a team full of girls. you know…since you’re into that sort of thing?”

it feels like the floor drops out from underneath your feet.

it’s a low blow, even for her, but that doesn’t stop the group of girls that surround you from giggling quietly.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say quickly, but your voice wavers, betraying you. “what’s your problem?”

“no problem here. just thought it was interesting, you know? seeing you out last night. you and natalie scatorccio?”

the gym falls silent. you feel every pair of eyes in the room turns to you.

“we weren’t doing anything,” you manage despite their stares. “we were just hanging out!”

“hanging out?” your ex repeats, feigning surprise. “that’s what you call it? looked a lot more…cozy than that to me!”

laughter ripples through the group, and heat floods your face.

“oh my god,” one of the other girls chimes in, her voice filled with poorly concealed disgust. “are you actually serious? you were on a date with her?”

“it wasn’t a date!” you protest, your voice rising in panic. as much as you would’ve liked for it to be, neither of you labeled it that.

another girl snorts. “right, because scatorccio is totally the type to hang out with a cheerleader just for fun! come on, we’ve all seen her. she’s like…you know?” she makes a vague gesture. there’s no need for her to elaborate for the whole room to understand what she saying.

“like what?” you snap.

“like you,” your ex cuts in smoothly. “two of a kind, right? birds of a feather! must be nice, not having to hide anymore!”

someone snickers behind her. “we’re just friends,” you say, sharper now.

“sure you are, that’s why you were basically all over each other!”

the group bursts into more laughter around you.

“would you just shut up?” you snap at last.

“oh, she’s mad now,” one of the other girls says, her voice a mock sing-song.

your ex steps closer, dropping the act entirely now that you’re chest to chest. “what’s the matter? afraid people might find out who you really are?” she glances around at the others, then back at you. “you know, it’s kind of pathetic. sneaking around like that. nobody’s buying it, anyway!”

“don’t-” your voice cracks.

“don’t what?” she says. “don’t call you out? don’t let everyone know they’ve been sharing a locker room with a lesbian?”

the words hang in the air, sharp and cruel, and hit you like a slap. for a moment, all you can do is stand there, frozen, as the group watches you, some wide-eyed, others smirking.

it’s not just about nat, or you. it’s about your place in their world: your status as part of the team, part of the cheer squad. the one thing you’ve always tried to fit into, always tried to be, no matter how uncomfortable it made you. it is now that you’re realizing that maybe you don’t belong in their world. that maybe you never did.

grabbing your bag, you shove past her and storm toward the door, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. the door slams shut behind you, muffling the sound of their laughter.

you won’t go back to the gym and give them that satisfaction.

instead, you walk down the halls, past the locker rooms, and head out the back doors. the air outside is cold, but does nothing to numb the ache in your chest. it’s the kind that suddenly feels like it’s been there all along, maybe longer than you realized, even. a crack forming. one piece of your life falling away at a time: cheerleading had always been your thing. your family’s thing, your friends’ thing. you’d been in it so long, it is hard to imagine life without it.

but then there’s still nat.

you’re not sure why your thoughts drift to her now, but you do know one thing for sure: with nat, over these past weeks, you could breathe. the world didn’t feel so small. she made you feel like you again, like someone who could be something other than just a cheerleader, just a girl pretending.

it isn’t until you’ve wandered to the edge of campus that you realize where your feet have taken you: the soccer field stretches out ahead, bright under the last bits of aternoon sun. from where you’re standing, you can see the yellowjackets mid-practice. you hesitate at the edge of the field, heart pounding as your eyes scan the group for her.

they’ve always been a tight group and there’s always been something about them that you’ve admired: the way they’ve got each other’s backs, no questions asked. you can’t help but feel like maybe that’s the one thing you’ve never been able to do for yourself.

nat is easy to spot, even from a distance. she’s wearing shorts and a faded soccer jersey, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. you freeze, watching as she jogs across the field with an effortless ease before passing the ball to taissa, who maneuvers it past a defender before sending it toward van. van, who catches it, calls out something teasing in return, her voice carrying across the field, and the whole team bursts into laughter.

even from a distance, they’re so at ease with one another.

and then there’s you.

the girl who just got shut out by her own teammates. you stand there, rooted to the spot, watching nat and the others as a painful realization starts to settle in your chest.

clearly, she belongs here.

you don’t.

you think back to the way the yellowjackets rallied around each other at that party, how they’d teased nat when they saw you in her jacket the next day, never with an ounce of cruelty. they’d just laughed and called her out, like it was no big deal. no judgment whatsoever.

out there on the pitch, they don’t look at her the way your squad looked at you today. they don’t treat her like she’s a problem that needs to be fixed. who are you to mess with that?

your chest tightens as the thought takes root: you’ve just lost your place on the cheer squad because you couldn’t keep your feelings buried where they belonged. and now, after one night of just hanging out with nat, everything feels even more precarious.

and it’s not only about you anymore, either. if you let yourself get closer to nat, if people start to notice, if they connect the dots, what happens then? does the judgment simply spill over onto her? onto the team she so clearly loves?

you can’t do that to her, not when she’s so happy here. not when she’s already lost so much, like she told you the night of that party. you can’t be the one to take anything else away from her.

nat jogs toward the sidelines now, wiping sweat from her brow as she laughs at something shauna says not far behind. you catch the faint sound of her voice, low and raspy, and it sends an ache through your chest that already feels too big to name.

you think about walking up to her, about calling her name and letting her see the raw hurt on your face. maybe she’d understand. maybe she’d care. but as you watch her sling an arm around lottie from afar, grinning ear to ear, you hesitate.

what if she doesn’t? what if you’re just another burden she doesn’t need? another thing weighing her down?

before you can second-guess yourself, you turn on your heel, your eyes stinging as you walk away from the field, the sound of laughter fading into the distance behind you.

it’s better this way, you tell yourself. ehe’s happy, and she deserves to stay that way. you’ll figure out the rest on your own, even if it means facing it all alone.

— a/n: i know it’s not wednesday yet, but a) i just got the sweetest ask ever, which motivated me to sit my ass down and finish this, and b) i have a rhiannon lewis fic for tomorrow that’s been sitting in my drafts since november! so, instead of posting two in one day, enjoy this one today! 😭😭

[greenglowinspooks]

Gävle Goat v.s. two drunk half-ghosts (DCxDP)

—

Tw: alcohol consumption (no way), one(1) mention of sex

Summary: Jason and Danny accidentally burn down the Gävle goat. You all voted for this, and I delivered. Merry crisis, tis the season and all that.

—

Jason wove through the ever-shifting crowd, an irritated scowl on his face.

Kori and Roy had dragged him here to celebrate a successful mission together, but the two had wandered off together not thirty minutes after they arrived, effectively stranding him in an unfamiliar club in Europe.

Now, his only two options seemed to be stealing someone’s car and getting back to their temporary safehouse himself, or waiting for the two to come back for him.

Still, considering the lecture he’d get from Dick if he hotwired a random guy’s car just because he didn’t want to wait for his friends, option one wasn’t much of an option at all.

It was humiliating. He was a crime lord, not a little kid who’d lost their mom in the store.

Jason sighed, slumping against the wall as he watched the drunken crowd swirl together.

He had never really felt at home in places like this, especially not since his resurrection. It always felt like people were staring at him, like they just intrinsically knew that he was other.

Jason startled when he felt someone tap on his shoulder.

“Sorry!” The stranger said, “I just, um, are you okay?”

Jason blinked. The person talking to him was clearly somewhat tipsy, wearing a blush on his face and a slightly loopy smile. How had he possibly snuck up on him? Was he really that deep in thought?

“My asshole friends ditched me, and now I’m stuck here,” Jason blurted out without thinking. The stranger barked out a laugh, clearly surprised.

“That sucks,” he said, leaning on the wall next to Jason. He hummed in response.

The stranger looked back at the open bar, where quite a few people were frantically miming to him. He motioned back to them, clearly hoping for them to stop, before just flipping them off. Jason chuckled at that.

“Those your friends?”

The stranger blushed brighter, the tips of his ears going red.

“Uh, yeah. We’re here to celebrate some legal stuff that I finally got done with, but, uh, they wanted me to go talk to you.”

Jason hummed again, giving the stranger a quick once-over. He was actually pretty cute; he had messy black hair, icy eyes, and an outfit that screamed “I’ve never been in a club before but my friends dragged me here anyways”.

If he was gonna be waiting for Kori and Roy anyways, why not have some fun?

“Well, I am technically here alone, now that my friends wandered off,” he said, looking at the stranger meaningfully.

The stranger grinned brightly, holding a hand out to him.

“Then, d’you wanna hang out with my friends and I? I promise we’re lot of fun! I’m Danny, by the way.”

Jason took his hand, the beginnings of a smile on his face.

“Call me Jason,” he said, following along as the (surprisingly strong) man dragged him over to his friends.

-

Danny was having the time of his life.

The restraining order on Vlad had finally been granted. The abolition of the Infinite Realms’ monarchy had gone through. And, on top of all that, he was on the most incredible club-hopping adventure of his un-life.

And sure, it might not have been the best idea to give ghost alcohol to Jason, the mortal his group had picked up in Germany, but he was taking it like a champ!

He hadn’t thrown up yet, in any case, so clearly it wasn’t that much of an issue.

Danny giggled, leaning up against Jason as they walked along the street, his ghostly friends filling the street.

As the night went along and they all got more and more tipsy, they’d mostly let go of their mortal forms. Despite being surrounded by a bunch of ghosts with death-blows clearly exposed and mythological creatures, Jason didn’t seem to be too bothered. He had an arm wrapped around Danny’s shoulders and was singing along with some of the ghosts in Arabic(?), his lovely baritone voice echoing out amongst the dead and unborn.

Danny just snuggled further into his side, enjoying the novel feeling of human warmth. He’d have to get Jason’s number after this, Danny sluggishly thinks. If he wasn’t freaked out by Danny being dead once he was sober, at least. He found that most people weren’t quite so open to cuddling up to a corpse. Even if that corpse could talk and walk around.

The streetlights around them began to spin as they once again walked into a rip in the veil. Everyone cheered as the lights warped and distorted, the sky becoming neon green and foggy.

Danny stumbled forward on unsteady legs, dragging Jason along with him. He wanted to get to the front of the group, to see where they were going before everyone else!

Jason tripped as Danny continued to drag him along, stumbling off the path and straight off the Realms island they were currently on. Danny, still clinging to him like a lifeline, fell alongside him.

A cheer from the spirits rang out above them, unaware of their mistake, fading as they fell. Before Danny had a chance to call out, though, they fell through another rip in the veil.

-

Jason sat up. He’d fallen face-first into a snowbank, and judging by the pair of legs sticking out of the snow, Danny had a similar fate. He dragged Danny out of the snow by the feet, tumbling over nothing and falling over in a heap.

Danny rolled over, laying down in the snow next to him with both arms around his waist.

Jason just looked up at the sky in awe.

It was most certainly the alcohol, or maybe the lack of pollution, but the sky looked so much more beautiful than usual.

There were so many stars in his blurry vision, and each one twinkled and shone and spun like they were dancing.

With a tremendous amount of effort, he got to his feet, dragging Danny up with him.

He twirled the man in his arms, his legs unsteady as he tried to waltz. Danny giggled, trying to match his uneven steps.

The arctic wind blew over them, carrying with it the snow and ice of the ages. The wind curled around them, spinning in circles around the pair as they danced. Sprites of fire glimmered in the corners of Jason’s vision, glimmering cheerfully. It seemed that something had caught alight, but nothing was going to distract him from the man in front of him, grinning widely with a blush that covered his entire face.

Jason fell over again, collapsing in the snow, and Danny fell over on top of him.

-

Light shimmered down from the snow-covered trees, falling onto Danny’s face. He scrunched his eyes closed, groaning in agony.

He was so, so hungover.

Served him right for agreeing to go out partying with Johnny of all people.

Danny’s head pounded to the beat of his heart, his core humming in rhythm. He buried his face into the fabric beneath him, trying desperately to block out the light from reaching his sensitive eyes.

Where was he, anyways?

The area around him was definitely snowy; even arctic, maybe, judging by how strongly his core was thrumming. Still, he was perfectly warm, laying on top of…

…a person?

Fuck, he was never partying with Johnny again.

Through great willpower, Danny squirmed off of the stranger and sat up, scrunching up his face as he turned away from the sun. It didn’t make his headache any better, though; the snow reflected the light almost as bright as the sun itself.

Fresh snow can have an albedo of 0.9, Danny remembered, a college lecture popping into his head. It had the highest level of albedo of anything on earth. That’s why it was bouncing the light of the sun directly into his poor sensitive eyes.

Of course Danny would wake up next to a strange man and the first thing that he thought of was science facts.

The man next to him groaned, immediately bringing his arm up to block the sun.

“What the fuck did I do last night?”

“I know, right?”

The man went abruptly still. It took all of Danny’s willpower not to laugh.

“…Do I still have my kidneys at least?”

Now Danny did burst out laughing, bright and cheery. And then he groaned and clutched his head.

“Oh gods my head hurts,” Danny hissed, “does this happen every time you drink?”

“Not unless you hate your liver.”

Danny laughed, and they both fell into silence for a few moments. It wasn’t comfortable silence by any means, though; it was unbearably tense and uncomfortable. Danny almost wished he could die on command, if only to get out of this.

“…Wanna go get breakfast?”

“Fuck yes,” Danny said, getting to his feet before helping the other man up. “Your treat?”

The other man laughed loudly.

“We’ve known each other properly for a total of five minutes, and you’re already bleeding me dry?”

“Come on, I’m a college student, it’s basically my job to ask for free food.”

-

The two of them sat in utter silence as they ate, watching the TV in the corner of the diner with a fascinating flavor of giddy horror.

Someone had burnt down the Gävle goat, and from the footage, it was very clearly them.

It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, luckily; the video had gone so staticky that it was very nearly unwatchable. But when combining the scene on the shitty box TV to Danny’s (very limited) memories of the night before, it was clear that they had done it.

“…Knew I forgot something that happened last night.”

Danny barked out a laugh at Jason’s comment, which earned him a sly grin in return.

“Better or worse than getting laid?”

“Eh,” Jason shrugged. “With most people? Better. With you? Worse.”

Danny laughed harder, wrapping a leg around Jason’s and waggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, arson isn’t the worst end to a first night out.”

Jason snorted.

“By the way, are you a meta? I just assumed, with the fire and all…”

Danny looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, I thought that was you.”

“What?”

Danny summoned a small burst of wind, twirling it around in his hands, creating tiny snowflakes.

“I can do that,” he said, gesturing to the snow, “but, like, fire? Nope.”

To Danny’s utter shock, a core in front of him pulsed in confusion, his own mirroring it.

Jason’s core. Jason was dead.

Jason looked at him, his face pale.

“Did you feel that too, or am I having a heart attack?”

Danny laughed nervously.

“As long as we don’t get arrested, I promise I’ll explain everything on the way back to Germany.”

—

Notes:

If Jason really was alive, he wouldn’t be for long after drinking ghost alcohol.

I brought up albedo because I learned something new in science class. Godbles

The wisps were Jason’s core forming and activating for the first time. That’s also what got the goat

[nthewriter]

Boots, Boots, Boots

Dark fic with Ghost part 1

TW: Torture, Simon losing his mind

Cold.

It was so cold.

Ghost shuddered, his breath coming from his mouth in a little smoke puff. It kind of reminded him of smoking. How cold was this room? He tried to move on his side, but he let out a little hiss. His ribs were probably broken from when he was captured. A rookie mistake: he slipped up the building and landed right into the enemy's den. They immediately jumped on him, kicking and beating him down. And as soon as someone tied him up, their violence reached a new height. Ghost took it like a champ though. Soon enough, the 141 will burst through the doors and he will get home after a good drink.

His attention snapped to the door. The door leading to his cell opened slowly, and a figure walked in.

“What do we have here?” The voice said with a sarcastic tone. A woman. She knelt down next to his battered and bound form. “A mask. How interesting.” She had an accent he noted. From where? He couldn't tell. “You have a name, sweetheart?”

Ghost didn't reply. Not even a grunt. Just a glare from underneath his mask covering his face. The baklava had been ripped, showing off his dirty blond hair. The woman was wearing a fur coat that ate her whole form. Ghost's brows furrowed. Who wore that kind of stuff?

“Where does this one come from?” She then asked one of the guards standing behind her, dismissing or behaving as if Ghost didn't exist.

“Spied on us at the observation tower and that idiot fell.” A much rougher voice spoke out with a chuckle.

“He fell?” She laughed, and snorted. “My, my. Your country sure hires the most fucked up bastard, pretty boy.” She then noticed the union Jack flag on his jacket. She ripped it off easily and held it up in the air. “British. Of course. You guys sure like to invade other people's stuff, uh?”

She didn't seem annoyed at his lack of replies. But Ghost felt uneasy around her. She acted like she was some crazy mad woman but strangely in control of everything. It was unnerving. He had to be wary of her.

“Let him in the dark. No food. No water. Needs to know where he comes from.” She decided and Ghost rolled his eyes. Of course. Typical shit.

Ghost was used to this kind of capture, of being held. It wasn’t his first time, so he was no virgin to this hard life. He was one of the best, so he would endure it.

Several days later, hands grabbed him roughly while he was asleep and he was dragged to another room. He was strapped down to a chair, right in front of the woman with her stupid coat. She looked mad though.

“You're from the SAS.” She spoke slowly, sharpening every word. She didn't need him to confirm it. “I can't believe my luck. Finally a way to make dear old Price pay for what he has done.”

That was interesting, Ghost perked up at this. The woman noticed his interest and her smirk grew wider. She approached him with a soft hum, gripping his chin tightly with her apparent delicate and manicured hands.

Against his will, he spoke up. A moment of weakness and he had to admit, curiosity.

“You know Price?”

“Can't forget the man who assassinated my parents in cold blood.” She spat, tightening her grip.

Ghost didn’t say anything. What could he say that could calm her nerves down? Nothing. Just- nothing. Though, he started to grow uneasy. Usually, the Task Force would have found him and saved his sorry ass. Where were they? What were they doing? The woman released his chin with a contemplative look. He didn’t know why but he didn’t like the way she stared at him. It wasn’t anything sexual, no. It was maybe worse: she saw him as an object, a sharp object. A killing machine.

“So, pretty English boy…” She whispered with a false sweet tone. “Where is your compound located?”

He stayed quiet. The Ghost always stayed silent during the enemy's interrogations. He could handle everything: the nail ripping, the broken fingers and toes, hell, even waterboarding was a walk in the park for Ghost. But then, when she was faced with his silence, her lips turned into a deeper frown.

“Very well. Seems like our friend isn’t very talkative.” She strutted back to another man, almost as tall and muscular as Ghost. “You know how I like them, Claude.”

“Broken and begging for you to spare their lives.” The man replied with an accent. French or Canadian surely. “The casket?”

“The casket.” She nodded, approving the idea.

And Ghost knew he was fucked.

It wasn’t his first time in a confined space, under the land. The first time was with… Roba. Right. Roba. Ghost didn’t like to remember this period of his life, and everything that happened before and after his time with the Mexican drug dealer. It was a blur when he forced his mind around the event.

Ghost didn’t move, and instead concentrated on slowing his breathing. It seemed they weren’t looking to kill him but to weaken him. He thought about what she had said about Price, something about killing her parents apparently. Then, she was probably the daughter of a drug dealer or a terrorist. Probably the latter. Drug dealing didn’t suit him and her weird friend, the one that gripped his bounded hands so hard one of his fingers broke. Ghost was used to the pain, so he endured pretty well.

He wondered how long he had been buried there. Well, technically, he wasn’t buried. It was just torture, to break him. Ghost chuckled, and then quickly stopped. Oxygen was precious. He had to concentrate on breathing. Though, he would like to see that girl try and break him. No one had done this. No one had broken the Ghost and no one would.

Several moments later, as Ghost didn’t know the time, the casket moved, probably being lifted back onto the land. As it was opened, he saw Claude’s face, staring down at him. The two men looked at each other without a word before Claude spoke up.

“Want to confess?”

Ghost shook his head.

“Too bad for you. You’re making it hard, you know?” Claude snickered before dumping something inside. A speaker.

Upon seeing the object, Ghost frowned. This wasn’t something he had expected. He didn't understand. The man smirked before touching the phone’s screen and Ghost’s eyes widened, recognising the poem a man was reciting with a lugubrious and gloomy voice. The audio made it distorted as well. But Ghost recognised the poem from the first verses. Boots. Boots. Boots.

We’re foot-slog-slog-slog- sloggin’ over Africa

Foot-foot-foot-foot sloggin’ over Africa

(Boots-boots-boots-boots movin’ up and down again)

There’s no discharge in the war!

This time, he started to panic. Ghost knew the poem. When he entered the 141, to test their endurance and their limits, Price had put them in a room with the poem on repeat and repeat. Ghost had been so close to madness and to break, but he had calmed himself down. He had survived it all, just like all the time before. But the combination of the poem and the casket… Simon didn’t know if he was going to survive this.

Even the strongest could yield.

The combination of the poem from Kipling, the dark, cold and damp suffocating casket and unsavory memories made Simon spiral. He was starting to panic, to experience panic attacks. His chest was rising up and down so fast, he was having trouble with breathing. He tried to break the damn speaker but… but it didn’t work. He hadn’t eaten in days, not even a drink, he was light headed.

Finally, he kicked. He kicked the top of the casket with his tied foot and hands. He didn’t care about the pain, the splinters, the blood. He just wanted to get out of this. He wanted to feel the sun’s on his skin, he wanted to see people, he didn’t want to remain in the unforgiving cold and despair he was feeling.

His prayers were answered after what seemed like an eternity of kicking and yelling. The top of the casket slid, and Simon jumped from it, rolling down on the muddy ground. He heard guns being pointed at him, even insults. But he recognised her. The woman with the fur coat. She was looking down at him, curious about his behaviour. When someone -Claude- suggested they put him back, that’s when Simon lost it and began to beg, to implore.

“N-No. Please. Don’t put me back there. I promise I’ll be good. Please.” Simon felt small, like when his father used to beat him, or used to beat Tommy. Back when Roba had him in this damn coffin with… with what was his name ? He forgot. No. His name was Vernon. That’s all he could remember. He forgot his face, but didn’t forget the way his limp and cold body felt against his. “Please!” He begged, so pitifully.

And she knelt down next to his battered and black form. She caressed with her smooth hands the hard lines of his face, his scars, his nose that had been broken so many times that it stayed crooked. And she cradled his head right against her chest, going as far as draping a little portion of her comfortable and warm fur coat against him. And he started to like it. To crave it. The attention, the gestures, the kind words that fell from her mouth, even if she spoke to him like he was a mere pet to her, like he was his dog and she was his owner. Simon thought grimly he wouldn’t mind. He wouldn’t mind having someone like that treating him with a bit of goodness, some caresses and a kind word.

“There, there, pretty boy.” She whispered lovingly, and despite his bound members, Simon tried to move closer to her, wanting to feel her skin on him. “You promise you’ll be a good boy, right? A good dog?” He nodded mindlessly at her words. She gently rubbed his cheeks together, before removing the ripped baklava and the mask, tracing the lines of his scar and his split lips with her soft hands. “Can’t have you looking like that. I’ll give you something more… fitting.”

[imnameimswrld]

╰┈➤ ❝ [𝐂𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐁𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 || 𝗢𝗣𝟴𝟭 ꒱꒱

━━ ❪ . . . oscar x verstappen!surfer!reader ❫

━━ ❪ . . . description : freshly surfing world champ, yn goes to take some much needed time off, and starts her vacay off by attending the miami grand prix. her intention was to support her big bro, but it appears a certain papaya driver had other plans; ❫

━━❪ . . . smau ! ❫

━━❪ . . . warnings : none ❫

━━❪ . . . fc : caroline marks ❫

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 767 224 others

ynverstappen world champion, blessed, thank you to the beautiful cali waves 🌊🏆

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user so well deserved, congrats yn !

bestfriend you were WICKED on the waves girl !!

maxverstappen1 let's gooo, congrats sissy ♡

⤿ ynusername couldn't have you being the only world champ in the fam, now could I ? 😋

⤿ maxverstappen1 no, no you just couldn't 😤

user the verstappen siblings are just legendary

user so with the break coming up, will we see yn at the next grand prix 👀 ?

⤿ user plus the next ones in miami, super close to cali, so 🤞 !!

oscarpiastri congratulations yn, coolest world champion ever 👏🥇

[ liked by ynverstappen ]

user and if I said yn and oscar would be SO cute together ?

Boeta 🏎

hey sissy

where r u ?

Sissy 🌊

chillin'

what's up ?

Boeta 🏎

no, I mean where r u

you said you were gonna be the paddocks when I got back from my meeting ?

Sissy 🌊

oohhhh

well, I am in the paddock

just not yours

Boeta 🏎

what ?

yn, are u hiding in dani's closet again to scare him ?

Sissy 🌊

ahhh, good times

but nope, I'm in the mclaren paddocks

Boeta 🏎

oh

is lando talking your ear off again ?

Sissy 🌊

nah, lol

I'm uh, actually with chilling with oscar

Boeta 🏎

piastri ?

since when are you guys on chilling level

Sissy 🌊

since he asked me out to dinner later

[read]

Boeta ?

uhhhh, boet ?

[read]

ynverstappen

liked by redbullracing, schecoperez, and 977 335 others

ynverstappen soooo good being back in the paddocks, thanks so much for having me redbullracing – and ofc, congrats boeta on p1 ! 💙

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user soooo, did anyone else see the video of oscar and yn walking around together ??? dude had the dopiest smile on his face too 😭

redbullracing you're practically family yn ! 💙

[ liked by ynverstappen ]

user 2 champs 🏆

danielricciardo thanks for not scaring the crap out of me this time yn :)

⤿ ynverstappen ah, there's always next time dan ����

⤿ danielricciardo no no, pls don't.

mclaren hope you had a wonderful time at the race yn ! 🧡

⤿ redbullracing are you going to apologize for stealing her from out paddocks ?

⤿ mclaren are we supposed to ?

⤿ oscarpiastri of course not.

⤿ maxverstappen1 thin ice piastri, watch it.

user uhhh, not redbull and mclaren battling it out over yn 😭

user my yncar ship is HERE BDJEHZIS

oscarpiastri just added to their story !

[ caption 1: stolen forever maxverstappen1 🤚 ; caption 2: 🧡 ]

Boeta 🏎

oscar is really bold

Sissy 🌊

oh, I know 😁

it's one of the many reasons why I like him

Boeta 🏎

so you like him then ?

like, really like him ?

Sissy 🌊

yeah, I do boeta

Boeta 🏎

okay then...

invite him to the lunch tomorrow

Kelly has been dying to see the two of you together

Sissy 🌊

she's so prescious I love her

and thanks boeta, for being cool with all this

Boeta 🏎

hey, i may be protective, but who am I to tell you who you can and can't date sissy

Sissy 🌊

🥺🥺 , houd van je 💙

Boeta 🏎

mhm, hou ook van jou 💙

ynverstappen

liked by oscarpiastri, kellypiquet, and 878 301 others

[ tagged: oscarpiastri ]

ynverstappen had some cake by the ocean with my papaya boy... p.s yes, the cake he bought me brought me to tears 🍰 🧡 🌊

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user BYE I'M GONNA GO CRY IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE

user stop that cake is so cute 😭😭

oscarpiastri I'm just happy to call you mine, liefie :)

⤿ ynverstappen and I'm just as happy to be your liefie ❤

⤿ maxverstappen1 not the dutch- ya'll gonna make me puke.

⤿ kellypiquet max, stop bullying your sister and oscar and go clean the litter boxes dammit

⤿ ynverstappen oohhh, mother is mad now boet, better get to it then 😄

⤿ maxverstappen1 you're staying in my house.

⤿ ynverstappen says who ? I'm staying at oscar's – plus, you know how I love the aussie waves

[ liked by oscarpiastri ]

⤿ maxverstappen1 yn verstappen istg... girl gets a bf and thinks she's the shit.

⤿ kellypiquet MAX.

⤿ maxverstappen1 I'M GOING.

user can I make this comment section my roman empire ?

user I'm laughing and crying rn, this is too funny

[theemporium]

Ahhh🧸🧸🧸 lando with his teen daughter who got drink for the first time? Maybe she snuck out when she wasn’t meant to but instead of being mad he’s just sweet and taking care of her and glad nothing happened to her🥹 maybe a lil snarky bc he’s lando

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“And where have you been all night, missy?”

Lando pressed his lips together when he watched his daughter freeze at the bottom of the steps and despite her back being to him, he could envision the look on her face so clearly. He knew exactly where she was. He knew exactly what she had done. But it was still sweet that she thought she was being subtle with the whole thing.

He knew the second you said no to your daughter about a party she wanted to attend, that she was going to disobey anyways. He saw the glint in her eyes, the same glint of mischief he recognised on his own. He knew she would be sneaking out. And maybe he should have prevented it, but he would’ve rather his daughter rebel when he was aware rather than do something worse when he wasn’t around.

He stayed awake, keeping an eye on her location (which she had stupidly forgotten to turn off) and made sure he was prepared to jump in the car if something happened. Eva was a daddy’s girl through and through, and he knew he would be the first person she would call if something happened.

Thankfully, nothing had happened except for the door she accidentally slammed on her way into the house.

“Uh,” Eva cleared her throat, gripping onto the bannister as she started to sway. “Midnight walk?”

“At four in the morning?” Lando countered.

“Midnight walks are about the vibe, not the time,” Eva said, her back still to Lando.

“And did you happen to encounter any alcohol on this walk?” Lando asked, watching the way her whole body tensed before she turned around, an innocent smile on her face.

“Don’t be silly, dad,” she scoffed, only to let out a little hiccup before she could finish her sentence. 

He gave her a soft smile. “C’mon, champ, let’s get you sobered up and in bed before you throw up on the carpet. Your mum will kick off if she wakes up to vomit stains, trust me.”

Eva opened her mouth to disagree, to wave her father off and insist she wasn’t drunk and that she was perfectly fine. But then she was stumbling and Lando was rushing towards her, and her limbs just felt so heavy from the walk between the taxi and the front door and she couldn’t be bothered hiding it anymore. 

“M’sorry,” she muttered, the words muffled as she rested her head on her father’s chest.

“It’s fine, honey,” Lando assured her as he wound one arm around her back and the other behind her knees, swooping her up in his arms as he began to head upstairs. “You’re a teenager. It’s what you crazy kids do.”

“Are you mad?” Her voice was so small, so scared. He hated it.

“Never, Eva-Bunny,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her hairline. “Just wanna know you’re safe. That’s all me and your mother want.”

“I know,” she sighed, nuzzling her face against the soft fabric of the hoodie he was wearing. “M’sorry for lying.”

“It’s not me you have to apologise to,” he said as he gently pushed her bedroom door open with his foot. “You’re gonna have a killer headache as your punishment in the morning.”

Eva let out a whine. “I don’t want it.”

Lando snorted. “You don’t get a choice, honey.” He placed her down on the bed, lying her head on the pillow before he moved to grab some clothes she could change into while he went down to get her some water and painkillers. “If you’re lucky, your mum will make her infamous hangover cure. Use the puppy dog eyes, she could never say no to those.”

Eva gave him a sleepy smile. “Think you can do something to piss her off so she isn’t too mad at me in the morning?” 

“And put myself in the line of fire?” Lando retorted before giving her a matching smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Anytime, Eva-Bunny.”

.

[dollyhao]

loser!ellie x bully!reader

summary: ellie upsets reader and takes her punishment like a champ.

cw: cowgirl, bondage

"els take me to the mall tomorrow?" you say not even looking up from your phone, scrolling through insta. its suppose to sound like a question because ellies trying to teach you that you cant be demanding with everything you say. you ignored her when she first said that to you but you took it into consideration, not doing it so often anymore.

ellie is sitting at the bottom of her bed reading a comic book and rubbing your feet thats in her lap. "uh um, actually i cant. i have.. a test, yup a test to study for." you glance up at her with a quirked brow, her face is red and flushed but she always looks that around you so you shrug. "fine" you say rolling your eyes snatching your foot out her hand.

your not upset frfr, you know how important grades are to ellie, which is why shes always so insistent on trying to help you study.

"im staying here tonight." you say taking your pants off leaving you in a shirt and underwear, crawling under her blanket. ellie hums in approval, and joins you spooning you as you both slept.

the next day, you decided to go to the mall with a friend since ellie was busy. yall stopped at a wing place close to campus and see ellie sitting inside with those other losers, dina and jesse. ellie has never blatantly lied to you like this.

you walk over to her fuming. yea, you know the last time she tried to miss plans with you to hang out with friends you said you would block her, but you threaten to block her all the time and never do.

her back is to you when you hit her with your purse, "wtf-" ellie says turning around looking angry and confuse. her face drops when she sees you obviously upset, she looks super guilty. "your such a bitch ellie. dont fucking talking to me." you turn and leave hearing ellie stumbling and asking you to wait behind you.

you get in your friends car arms crossed frowning, "take me home." "no food?" "i lost my appetite." your friend puts the car in reverse just as ellie comes out the restaurant and yall drive off.

your in your dorm when you hear rapid knocks at your door. you get up to open the door already knowing its ellie. "what" "please let me explain" she says hands clasped together with a pleading look on her face. "i dont wanna hear it williams." you say walking away from the open door.

ellie comes in closing the door behind you, getting on her knees in front of you. "please please forgive me. im so so sorry for lying. w-what can i do so you'll forgive me? ill do anything."

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"this isn't fair!" ellie says tears in her eyes. "you said you'd do anything." you say out of breath. your bouncing on her dick with her laying back on your bed hands tied above her head with a pair of your stockings. you refuse to let her touch you or fuck you, basically using her as your own little toy.

"please let me fuck you, i-i can make you feel so so good!" "nope." you say putting two fingers in her mouth so she would be quiet.

you throw your head back leaning over ellie tits all in her face as you keep riding. "fuck ellie." you say taking your spit covered fingers out ellie's mouth rubbing your clit with them.

ellie lets you use her because she feels so so bad for lying to you, she lays still even though it feels like torture. you moan out biting you bottom lip looking down at ellie who looks high, drool dripping out the corner of her mouth.

" ’m close els…" "please cum for me baby." ellie says before catching one of your enticing nipples in her mouth. you fully impale yourself on her dick creaming all over her. you smile down at her rising off her walking over to the bathroom leaving her tied up.

"please tell me you forgive me?"

[chai-berries]

all my friends support palestine and know neil druckmann is a zionist

A Kiss for The Ping Pong Champ (#22)

when manny said he was planning on throwing a party that night, he didn’t tell abby that it was gonna be at their apartment. so when she comes back home, covered in mud and twigs from a dumbass mission she willingly signed up for, it’s to a party in full swing and spilling out of their front door. the mission was a basic one and abby got pretty filthy but she’d take just about anything that means exploring zombie filled treasure troves. her side of the room is steadily filling with books and pins and little trinkets. she had her current “best find yet” in the breast pocket of her jacket.

abby first hears the party from the stairwell and she practically stalks towards the front door, tired and irritated but not surprised. manny and abby have both hosted parties in their penthouse apartment plenty of times in varying amounts of success. it’s just abby forgot about it and had made plans with you and now they’re fucked.

she smiles politely at everyone she walks to her bunk. grabbing her shower caddy and some clean clothes, she sneaks back out and into the communal showers.

twenty minutes later, abby is clean and back in the packed apartment. manny greets her with a wave and she responds with a prominent middle finger and a sarcastic smile. he cackles, startling the girls beside him.

she gets herself a drink and finds some guys from the gym that she sometimes trains with. one of them, joe, was defending his poorly made joke to abby and the others when abby sees movement from the corner of her eye.

“uh excuse me please?” abby fully turns to see you scooting awkwardly past a group of people. you meet her eye and grin, shouldering past the last person and are soon within her reach.

“hi,” you breathe

“hi,” abby echos.

you look around the party. “i didn’t know there was gonna be this many people when you asked me to come over. i thought it was just gonna be us —”

abby itches to touch you. the itch wins and she gently puts a hand on your shoulder. you stop talking.

“i honestly had no idea about the party. i’m just as surprised as you. do you wanna leave?” abby looks up to see where manny is.

“no,” you say a little too quickly. “i’m cool with staying if you are.”

you share a smile.

“ok then let’s get you a drink. nothing spectacular but they are interesting.” she leads you over to a table where people are mixing up drinks. she goes past all the mixes and shitty liquor and pulls a small bottle out of a box.

“here,” she hands it to you. “it’s wine. from 1993. you said wine ages well and you’ve been wanting some since last christmas sooo” she trails off and suddenly feels like she shouldn’t know that you like wineries and napa valley history and god she’s so weird but you’re smiling at her so that has to be good sign, right?

“abby, this is amazing! thank you,” is all you say but the relief that fills abby is embarrassing. this time it’s your turn to lead you both to abby’s little corner in the front of the penthouse. everyone is mostly in the upper stairs area, besides nora and leah who wave at you both as you pass by. you sit down on abby’s bed and she follows. a silence passes between you as the party becomes ambience. abby remembers her surprise and reaches into her jacket’s breast pocket. she closes her fist around the item and scoots back so her back leans against the wall and her feet hang off the bed. you follow her movement with your eyes. she makes eye contact with you for a brief second. you note that she looks bashful.

“i, uh, found you something while i was out.”

“yeah?” you turn to sit sideways on her bed, one leg tucked under you.

“you gotta close your eyes first.” you close your eyes and hold your hand out, a big smile on your face. what you can’t see is that abby is easily caught off by your smile and almost misses dropping the mysterious item into your hand.

“okay you can open your eyes now.” you do so.

in your hand is a necklace. a long gold chain and a pendant. you untangle the necklace and hold it up. the pendent is the letter of your first name. the necklace as a whole is in pretty good condition with only a little chip on the pendent.

“oh abby,” you look up and see the girl blushing. “this is so sweet! i love it. thank you.” regardless of how uncomfortable it will be, you lean forward to hug abby tightly. “thank you again, abs” you whisper and kiss her cheek before pulling away.

you quickly undo the clasps and ask abby to put the necklace on you. after a failed attempt of putting it on while sitting, you both stand up. you turn your back to abby and she very ceremoniously places the necklace on you. once it’s clasped you turn back around to face her. you reach up to adjust the pendant so it sits in the middle, by your sternum.

when you look up, abby is already smiling at you. she opens her mouth to say something when someone calls her name.

she rolls her eyes and answers with a reluctant “yeah?”

it’s joe again. “it’s raheem’s birthday and he wants a beer pong rematch.”

“right now? i’m busy.” she glances at you.

“yes now. he heads out on that week long mission tomorrow morning.”

abby closes her eyes and lets her head fall back. it’s raining outside and she can hear the rain above her head. she exhales heavily through her mouth. she looks back at you and you have the most understanding eyes in the world and abby both hates and loves it.

“okay,” she says to joe. “one game and he gets the bad beer and im taking that nice stuff.”

joe holds his hands up. “righto, captain.”

abby rolls her eyes again. she looks back at you. “this okay? just one game and they’ll leave me alone.”

you roll your own eyes but there’s a smile on your lips.

“abs it’s fine. i promise. now go, because i think joe is coming back over here.”

and sure enough he was. abby briefly squeezed your hand before heading up the stairs. you walk over to nora and leah, who have been joined by a happy drunk whitney. they were getting up to join you to watch abby kick reheem’s ass, all of you making up abby’s cheer squad.

the cups and sacred ping pong balls are already set up. you make sure to stand where abby can see you and you can see her. and she makes sure to wink at you before shooting the first ping pong of the game right into one of raheem’s cups. the boy groans loudly and his friends cheer on abby. abby holds her hands up, shrugging off the attention. you bite your lip to stop smiling at her antics. your eyes catch movement as she pulls up the sleeves of her henley to her forearms, making her arms look even bigger. pulling the sleeves up also shows off her bracelet collection. including one that you made her months ago. she’s never taken it off so it’s worn and faded. but the sentiment is still there and it makes your heart ache with love for her.

while raheem takes his time aiming, you continue watching abby as she stretches her arms over her head and twists her upper body back and forth. you suddenly remember that abby just came back home from an overnight mission and there were currently over twenty, mostly drunk, people shoved into her apartment. she’s probably exhausted but putting on a good show for these people that look up to her. you make a mental note to ask her if she wants to come back to your place until the party’s over. your room is smaller but ten times quieter. you continue to zone out a bit, watching abby while thinking about abby as the game continues in front of you.

unfortunately (but fortunately for you) everyone knew the end score pretty quickly. abby had four out of six cups left on her side while raheem had two left on his. the crowd was engaged in the action like it was a tennis match. manny had even moved to stand beside abby as her right hand man. your eyes stay locked on her.

it was raheem’s turn and everyone watches as his ball hits the rim of the cup but bounces away. the crowd groans for him. abby steps up and without even trying, sinks the ball into the cup closest to raheem. the crowd cheers. raheem goes again and makes it. abby downs the cup and wipes away the little bit that missed her mouth with the back of her hand. she picks up a ball and closes one eye to aim it perfectly before letting it go. the ball arches in the air and lands in its target.

the people cheering for abby lose their minds. manny starts to shake abby excitedly. joe and a few of the other boys from before surround her. you hear manny say something about getting abby “a drink fit for champions”. you watch abby smile and joke with her friend until the crowd by the alcohol table blocks her from you.

beside you, nora clears her throat. you stop searching for abby and look to nora.

she’s fighting off a smile.

your brows furrow in confusion. “what?”

nora shrugs. “i don’t know. i just wanna know when did you get thirsty? where did my innocent friend go?”

“what are you talking about?”

“c’mon. you are so obvious. you were practically undressing abby during the whole game. we are in public, girl. have some class,” nora laughs.

you look down. “i’m not undressing her with my eyes,” you mumble. nora scoffs

“i don’t know why you are so in denial. you have the girl,” nora’s eyes move over your shoulder. “and speak of the devil and she shall appear. hey abs! congrats on demolishing raheem! i just know he’s going to be sulking about this in the clinic for months.”

abby shrugs. “all in a day’s work.” she turns to you. “you okay?”

you smile at her. “yeah i’m fine. nora was just bullying me.” you pout. abby’s head swivels to nora who has the common sense to be already walking away with leah and whitney shuffling behind her. “it’s fine. it wasn’t serious.”

abby looks back towards you. “okay…do you wanna get outta here? i feel like if i stay, someone is gonna wanna challenge me again or something.”

“yeah! i was just gonna ask if you wanted to come to my place? ya know, until the party clears out.”

abby blushes. “yeah i’d love to. let me just grab my bag.” she moves to go down the stairs but stops at your hand grabbing her bicep.

“wait abby?”

she stops a step below you. “yeah?”

she is taller and generally bigger than you because of her muscles but having her be a step down makes it easier for you to cup her face and very gently press your lips to hers.

the gentle kiss is met with abby’s own passionate response. she reaches for your waist. your hands go from her face to her neck and then down to her shoulders.

you pull away first. “and that’s a kiss for the ping pong champion”

abby opens her eyes and hums in response. she squeezes your waist and let’s go, walking down the stairs to grab her bag. when she comes back she simply takes your hand in hers and interlaces your fingers.

just like the way she arrived, abby smiles politely at people who say hi but doesn’t stop walking until the sounds of the room fade away and she can only hear you and the sounds of both of your feet along the hallway.

[princessbrunette]

bodyguard!jj pulling his gun out on someone who’s all up in your face 😳😳 It would be so hot Id probably have to change my panties

୧ ‧₊˚ 👠・₊✧

trying to be ‘respectful’ on the job could be a pain in jj’s ass — and he’s not just talking about trying to be professional around you. you were sociable, too sociable, so more times than not the weekend would come and you, millionaire kook-nepo baby turned social media whatever would come dragging your bodyguard anywhere and everywhere that you could.

but like jj always told you, you could take the man out of the cut but you couldn’t take the cut out of the man. it was often his actions would come across brutish, irrational, aggressive— but he did what he could to protect you. maybe he cared about protecting you a little too much, for selfish reasons instead of professional.

he stands a few feet back, giving you your privacy at this networking party you’d dragged him too. don’t get him wrong, he loves a party— when he gets to smoke weed and drink beer. coming to a party strictly to stand there and stare at one girl all night wasn’t exactly his mojo.

his bodyguard senses that he’d gained from working for you started to tingle as he snapped out of his thoughts, eyeing your body language. you were stiff, and whilst your back was to him he somehow knew the exact face you were making. this guy, the asshole you were speaking to was all up in your face, too touchy, a totally weird and off putting vibe. jj didn’t wanna come across as overbearing, but then again — he was doing his job.

he arrives at your side within a millisecond, staring down the guy in your face. “step back a little for me, bro.” he tries to be civil about it all whilst standing his ground, his small unblinking smile a thinly veiled threat. the guy scoffs, clearly off too many of the free champagne flutes being liberally handed out.

“babe, why is the help talking to me?” he sneers, amused and jj’s eyes flutter, taking a deep breath to not cuss him out.

“thats my bodyguard.” you frown, meekly — but you defend jj anyway. that calms him just a tad.

“thats your bodyguard?” he smirks, finally letting go of your arm to stare at jj. “what are you gonna do if i don’t step back, huh?”

the blonde bodyguard is done with the games, whipping his pistol out from its holster and holding it directly to his forehead, collecting a sea of gasps and shrieks from decorum-obsessed party goers. “i’ll light this god damn room up, that’s what i’ll do dude. you gonna step back? or am i gonna have to blow your brains out infront of a pretty girl.”

“jj!” you clutch your glittery necklace, stepping behind him nonetheless. the rich asshole has no idea what hit him, backing away and scurrying off with piss in his overpriced boxers. jj licks his lips casually as he looks around at the scene he caused, tucking the gun back into its holster as he turns to look down at you.

“we done here? think it’s time to peel, unless of course you’d rather be escorted out by the actual security guards. they look pretty mad, so…”

you nod, wordless as you process what just happened, letting him guide you away from the party by the small of your back. maybe it was the champagne talking, but seeing jj protect you like that seemed to go straight to your panties, your thunderous heart beat having nothing on the pulse through your clit. you bite your bottom lip, turning to look up at him as he walks you out the building.

“don’t give me that look. was doin’ my job, cupcake. the dude was pushin’ his luck.”

“i can’t believe you did that.” you let out in a breath, and it’s only then once you get outside into the cool evening air he slows his pace, turning to look at you. his face falls a little, wondering if you were really mad. he says nothing, awaiting his scolding. “i… can’t believe you did that.” you repeat, this time falling into a fit of giggles, covering your mouth.

his brow raises, sizing you up.

“uh, how much of that champagne did you drink?”

“you were really gonna shoot that guy just for standing too close to me?” you’re elated, approaching him with a doe eyed grin looking nothing short of a disney princess. he shrugs, not understanding the hype.

“i mean the guy was practically begging for it.”

“thats so hot.”

“what now?”

“cool, that was so cool.” you correct quickly, stepping back. “thank you.” you smile and he blinks at you at few times, knowing exactly what he heard.

“yeah, don’t sweat it… just doin’ my job, sugar.” he starts to walk you to the car — this time with a smirk on his face that you daren’t question.

୧ ‧₊˚ 👠・₊✧

[knivestothroats]

ITWS Trans Buck AU snipit - Fletcher gives Buck his T shots

I figure this would happen very early on, so I had it pick up in chapter 2 after Buck wakes back up after passing out getting his leg sewn up. CW: Needles/injections, captivity whump

Buck passed out at some point during the procedure.  He woke up in a bed, unsure of where he was. Even as the memories came back to him as he drifted into consciousness, he was still lost. It was a sparsely furnished room, with just the bed, a dresser, a chair, and a small table that didn’t look like it was originally meant to be a nightstand. There was a window in the wall behind him, but the curtains were drawn. He was wearing an unfamiliar pair of sweatpants. 

Buck’s head ached. His leg ached. His whole body ached. He tried to gently shuffle into a sitting position, but as he moved he felt the unyielding tug of metal against his ankle.

His injured leg was handcuffed to the bed.

The door opened. Fletcher poked their head in.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” they said, walking all the way into the room. They were carrying a tray, which they set down on the dresser. Fletcher opened one of the drawers and retrieved a pillow. “Can you sit up?”

Buck, watching Fletcher warily, pushed himself slowly into a sitting position, and Fletcher put the pillow behind him. They retrieved the tray and set it on Buck’s lap before pulling the chair over to the side of the bed and sitting down.

Buck examined the contents of the tray. A water bottle, a small bottle of orange juice, a banana, a sleeve of crackers, a pudding cup, and a spoon. Buck looked up at Fletcher wordlessly.

“Well, eat up, champ,” Fletcher said, leaning forward to rest their forearms on their legs. A beat of silence where neither said anything. Then, “How’re you feeling?”

Buck opened his mouth and let out a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I feel like shit. Everything hurts.”

“Well, that’s to be expected,” Fletcher nodded. “You sustained a pretty serious injury.”

“Which you made worse,” Buck said.

“Hey, I – well, yeah. I did make you walk on it,” Fletcher admitted. “But you did great! And then I made it better.”

“You should have taken me to a hospital,” Buck said.

Fletcher just laughed and said, “Seriously, you should eat something. Drink some water.”

Buck examined the seal of the water bottle to make sure it was still intact before cracking it open and taking a long drink. He paused a moment, and then asked, “Why do you have me chained to the bed?”

“Well, you really shouldn’t be walking on that leg for a while,” Fletcher said.

Buck stared at them in disbelief. Fetcher’s face cracked into a smile, and they shrugged, but said nothing.

“So, what, are you just… holding me here?” Buck struggled to say the words out loud.

“Yeah,” Fletcher answered casually.

“Why? What… why?”

“You’re a great teaching tool,” Fletcher said before standing up. “And I believe you can take it.”

“Take what?” Buck asked, voice soaked in fear.

Fletcher began walking to the door, saying only, “Eat something.”

“What – what is this place?” Buck called after them. “What is going on here?”

Fletcher stopped in the doorway, hand on the knob ready to pull it closed behind them. They turned back.

“Well, Buck,” they said, “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” 

Before they could shut the door, Buck blurted out, “Wait, wait, wait!”

Fletcher waited.

“I have - medications. That I need,” Buck said.

“Okay. What are they?”

“Um…” Buck shifted uncomfortably. “It’s personal.”

“If you don’t tell me, you’re not going to get them,” Fletcher said bluntly. “I’m not gonna judge you if you have a rash on your junk or some shit.”

Buck cringed. “No, it’s not like that. It’s… testosterone.”

“What kind?” Fletcher asked, unphased.

“Like…” Buck gestured vaguely. “For hormone replacement-”

“Yeah, I fucking got that part,” Fletcher cut him off. “Shots or gel?”

“Uh… uh, shots,” Buck answered. 

“Great,” Fletcher said. “Easier to get ahold of. When was your last shot?”

“Friday.”

Fletcher nodded. “I’ll get it for you. Anything else?”

“Um…” Buck considered inventing some complex medical issue that would be inconvenient for Fletcher to deal with, but he wasn’t able to think. And anyway, that didn’t necessarily mean that Fletcher would let him leave. Alive. “No, just that.”

“Cool.” Fletcher gave a final nod and closed the door behind them.

When Fletcher came to Buck’s room the following Friday, they held up their hand, letting Buck see a vial and a syringe.

“You wanna do shots?” they said with a grin.

Buck’s eyes widened. “You actually… you actually got me my T?”

Fletcher scoffed. “Of course. What dose are you on?”

“0.6, uh, milligrams… or whatever.”

Fletcher pulled the chair over to Buck’s bedside with their foot as they carefully watched the measurements on the syringe fill up. They slipped the vial into their pocket and flicked the air bubbles out.

“Where do you usually take it?” they asked.

“Oh, uh…” Buck considered what area of his body he wanted to expose to Fletcher. His stomach felt incredibly vulnerable - literally rolling over and showing his belly. But he didn’t want to pull his pants down to do his thigh either. It was hard enough getting them on and off without agitating his wound. He wouldn’t have to pull them all the way down to do his rear, but he didn’t really want to be showing his ass either. Unless - would it come off as a “fuck you” to Fletcher? Probably not. They still got to stab it.

“Stomach, I guess,” Buck murmured. He kneaded the fabric of his shirt in his hands before lifting it up enough to give Fletcher access. 

Buck turned his head away as Fletcher leaned in. He flinched when the alcohol wipe touched his skin, and he could swear he heard a tiny snicker from Fletcher.

“How long you been on T?” Fletcher asked conversationally.

“Uh, ‘bout a year and a half,” Buck said.

“Oh, for real?” Fletcher sounded surprised. “You’re looking great, man. Took to it really quickly.”

Buck was taken off guard by the compliment. He looked back at Fletcher to search their features for any sign of sarcasm or scorn. Their face was neutral, focused on Buck’s skin, pinching it slightly before sticking the needle straight in.

Buck hissed a breath through his teeth. Part of him wanted to turn away again, but the rest of him wanted to watch Fletcher and make sure they were doing what they were supposed to. 

Fletcher’s eyes met his briefly before returning to their work. Buck tried to stay still as they slowly depressed the plunger.

“Haven’t gotten used to it yet?” Fletcher asked.

“It sucks every time,” Buck gritted out. “I wanted to get the gel but insurance wouldn’t cover it.”

“Why the fuck did you tell me shots then?” 

Fletcher pulled out the empty syringe, capping the needle. They rubbed their thumb over the drop of blood that formed on Buck’s skin.

“Uh… I don’t know,” Buck said. He lowered his shirt and laid both hands over the sore injection site. “You just asked what I was taking, I wasn’t really… thinking.” He paused, studying Fletcher for a moment. “Does that mean you could get me the gel?”

“Mm,” Fletcher hummed in thought. They stared at Buck an uncomfortably long time, but that was a low bar. “Maybe. Shots are easier to get - like, they’re still a controlled substance, but they’re also super common, and more likely to be black marketed, so to speak. Plus, I get to stab you a little bit, which makes it fun for me.”

They rose and pushed the chair back against the far wall.

“I could do it myself,” Buck pointed out.

“Ha!” Fletcher laughed as they headed for the door. “Same time next week.”

[blackbat05]

Night time Comfort - Sincaraz

Plot: Set after R4 against Holger at AO. Carlos decides to make a trip to check in on Jannik.

A/N: Ummm so my first Sincaraz fic?!! Much thanks to @ohohoseok cuz she gave me ideas from her own fixations?🫶🏽😆 Enjoy!

“Game, set, match. Sinner.”

Carlos switches off the tv with a sigh of relief. Although he felt sad for Holger, but he was glad that Jannik had made it out of the excruciating Australian heat with a much needed win.

“He didn’t look good. For a moment I thought he was going to retire.” Juan Carlos observes.

“Jannik’s strong,” Carlos says with admiration. “I would have. It’s why he’s the best.”

Juan Carlos and Alberto’s stares to each other don’t go unnoticed by the young star. Carlos stands and changes out of his hotel room wear.

“Carlos, where are you going?”

“Honey lemon.” Carlos blurts out and quickly adds, “The match made me thirsty.” He grabs his keycard and makes a beeline for the door to stop the onslaught of questioning from his coach.

“Sure, honey lemon.” Alberto snorts.

***

Carlos tugs at his tee for what is the umpteenth time on the way up to Jannik’s room. Would it be too intrusive? Would he look too aggressive? Would Jannik be well enough to talk to him?

The lift stops at the designated floor and Carlos’ feet suddenly feel like lead. He takes a deep breath and walks to Jannik’s room, hoping that he has managed to catch the star of the day.

The door opens as Carlos is mere feet away from it and Simone steps out together with Darren who spots him holding a bag of drinks.

“Carlos!” Simone strides over. Before Carlos can even come up with an excuse, Simone rattles away, “Could you stay with Jannik for a while please? It won’t take long. I have to cancel the courts tomorrow and Darren has a last minute interview with the press.”

Carlos is wide-eyed at the request but like the champ he is, he recovers quickly and agrees.

Which is how he found himself in the same room. Alone. With Jannik who is currently sleeping, blissfully unaware of his presence.

Carlos is at a lost. He’ll just have to rely on his mechanical movements to get him around the room. First, honey lemon in the fridge-

“Carlos?”

Crap. Clumsy! He thinks. Carlos turns around and he almost has to steady himself on the mini bar at the sight of Jannik who looks absolutely adorable and confused at the sight of him.

Jannik grasps his glasses at the bedside and switches on the lights. “Carlos, why are you in the dark? You could be hurt.”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” A moment of silence passes and Carlos holds up the bottle of honey lemon awkwardly. “For you! If you want to drink now.”

Carlos nearly topples the bottle on the table that has Jannik cracking a smile. “I would like one.”

Carlos grabs a bottle and places the other in the fridge. He shuffles over to Jannik and hovers where Jannik is propped up on a bunch of pillows.

“Carlos, sit.” Jannik offers.

“No, no. You need the space.”

“Please.”

How could Carlos deny Jannik’s request when the Italian is looking at him behind those thick rimmed glasses so innocently?

Carlos looks around the room and finds a solution. “Could I? Uh…” He points to the makeshift sofa bed. “I can push it together.”

“There’s more than enough space for two of us.” Jannik pats the bed beside him, unaware the effect that his action has on Carlos.

“It’s okay, I’m strong. I don’t want to dirty the bed.” Carlos insists and speedily gets to work, pushing the sofa bed towards Jannik who looks amused. After displaying a show of strength, Carlos hops onto the sofa.

“Great game today.”

“Did you not see me? I almost felt like throwing up.” Jannik responds. “You’re too nice.”

“I’m serious.” Carlos frowns. “You were great out there today.”

“Thank you Carlos. I just hope I’ll get enough rest to be ready for the quarter finals.”

“Then rest.” Carlos says, moving closer to Jannik to help him with the pillows. “Simone and Darren should be back soon. I’ll be here.” Carlos pauses.

“That is if you’re okay with it.”

***

“Darren!” Juan Carlos calls out. “Did you see Carlos by any chance? He was supposed to be back an hour ago.”

The older man shakes his head. “But I think I might have an idea…”

The pair heads up to Jannik’s room where Simone is already outside, signaling them to maintain silence.

“They’re sleeping.” Simone tells them, opening the door to the dimly lit room.

Juan Carlos quietly follows them in to find a sight to behold: The sofa bed pushed to be side by side to the bed, his student crammed uncomfortably on the mentioned sofa bed, sleeping without a care in a world, with Jannik wrapped in a blanket beside him.

“Carlos? Wake up.” Juan Carlos nudges him gently.

“Eh?” Carlos blinks the sleep out of his eyes to find the three men staring down at him. “Sorry! I forgot the time.” Carlos fumbles slightly but remembers not to wake the ginger at his side.

After a couple of hushed goodbyes (and Carlos’ insisting that they leave as soon as possible to not disrupt Jannik’s sleep, the pair leaves to head back to their room with Carlos unusually quiet on their way back down.

Still, Juan Carlos does not let this golden opportunity pass.

“So…”

“Not a word Juan Carlos. Not a word.”

[snoopyliker]

(Calango: The second I see there's mirrors I stay by the door.)

(Cellbit: You don’t go inside?)

(Calango: I stay by the door.)

Dante: Balu, you’re not coming in?

Rubens: Balu?

Balu: Uh, no. I- I will. It’s just that I still haven’t- haven’t looked at myself.

Carina: Hey. It’s not so bad like that.

Arthur: You can't get any worse than me, buddy.

Balu: (Ignoring Arthur) It means a lot coming from a beautiful girl like you, dear.

Arthur: And fuck me, right?

[The cast laughs]

(Bagi: Arthur said that out loud?)

(Guaxi: I said it.)

(Rakin: I giggle and walk off too.)

Balu: Champ, I’m thankful to you too