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userlando · 2 months

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lending a hand — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader [5.5k] summary: exams are coming up and studying for it turns out to be more tedious than usual. luckily, lando is around & more than eager to lend a helping hand. warnings: 18+ fingering, dirty talk, protected sex (piv), brief oral, doggy, missionary, dom!lando, derogatory name calling, choking, slapping (lando smacks a tit and ass lol), everything is absolutely consensual a/n: HI EVERYONE!! i know it's been agesss since i came on here and i'm still kind of on a hiatus because i just haven't been feeling tumblr lately. i wrote this piece a while back for another cc but they've since then showed themselves to be a bad person and i don't wanna be associated with that. so i rewrote and added some things because i really like this one. so hopefully you do too :') i love u and miss u all so much, i'll hopefully jump back on when i've got my mojo back!! read before interacting: I suck at biology and googled every single medical term and everything it’s got to do with it. i’m so sorry if i wrote something incorrectly, please don’t come for me. thank you x

The air was stifling hot and damp, your fingers were cramping up and the words on your textbooks were starting to blur into one big mess the longer you stared at them. There were so many books laid out in front of you, pictures of cartooned organs and human anatomy that on any other day, would be of massive help. But right now they just made your head hurt even more.

When your fingers cramped up for the fourth time, you let go of your pencil and watched it land softly on the sheets in front of you. You were in serious need of a massage, tension rippling in your body that would only perish once your final exams were over and done with. It wasn’t long until you took them, two weeks to be exact but the stress was weighing heavier on you than you’d like to admit.

The only thing pushing you forward was the fact that you’d be one step closer to graduating and the promised deep massage in Monaco’s finest spa.

Your boyfriend had been the true pillar in your life. Lando been so patient and tried to help in any way he could when you’d seek comfort in his arms and awkwardly stumbled words. Poor thing didn’t know how to make your stress go away when you were at your worst, but he certainly tried his best and that was all that mattered. Lando felt helpless at those times, but he found himself relaxing when he held you and could feel the tension in your shoulders lessen.

You’d been neglecting him for over a week now, but he was nothing if not understanding and he took advantage of that time to spend more in front of his computer with his friends or even the racing sim, while you holed up in your shared bedroom.

It had made you feel a little guilty at first, seeing as it was his season break and he’d intended to spend his free time with you but your schedules didn’t align enough. There were only so many hours you could spend procrastinating before the stress got to be too much.

You’d first opted to sit next to him while he played and streamed but you’d found him too big of a distraction so it hadn’t been long before you migrated to your bedroom. Hearing him from down the hall was comfort enough.

It was as if your thoughts had summoned him, the creak of the door pulling your attention to it and you blinked away the blur in your eyes to watch his upper body and head peak through the space. The curls on his head were wild, unrulier than usual and you’d have taken a step back to admire them if you had the strength to.

“You alright?” He asked tentatively, and you nodded with a wave of your hand; Gesturing for him to come in because suddenly you were in need of his comforting hug.

He’d gone quiet in his office a while ago and you figured he’d gone offline, not hearing a peep from him. Or maybe you’d had, and just didn’t notice.

“You need a break.” Lando murmured as he stepped inside, coming to stand by the bed.

You blinked up at him and realised the blur in your eyes were from unshed tears of exhaustion. It seemed as if Lando realised it at the same time you did, letting out a surprised soft laugh as he pouted his bottom lip in sympathy.

“Darling.” He reached out both of his hands to cradle your face, thumbs reaching out to swipe beneath your eyes. “This isn’t healthy.”

“I’m not crying, I swear.” You placed your hands over his, letting out a watery laugh at the worry in his eyes. “I’m just tired. These words aren’t making sense anymore.”

Lando made a sound in his throat, turning to plop down on the bed. You tried to keep the scowl from showing on your face when he moved around the meticulously arranged papers on the sheets, but he saw it and grimaced in something you guessed were apologetic.

“How about we go out and get something to eat?” Your boyfriend suggested, laying down on his side and propping his head up with the help of his hand.

“I’m not hungry.” That was a lie.

You’d been cooped up in your room for over - you glanced at the clock and winced - three hours, and the last time you’d ate was a bowl of yogurt and granola. It wasn’t healthy, and you always made a point of eating before your insides started twisting with hunger, but it was easy to get carried away while revising.

“Don’t pull that shit on me.” Lando’s eyes rolled, reaching a hand out to nudge you in the side to garner a reaction out of you. You jumped with a startled giggle, swatting at his hand. “Just an hour and then we’ll be back, I promise.”

You shook your head, no matter how tempting that offer was. You knew yourself well enough to know that you’d go out to eat, come back and then push studying aside to cuddle in bed with him. And seeing as the both of you hadn’t gone further than kissing for the past week, Lando would definitely not protest if you procrastinated in order to spend some quality time with him.

“Lan, I love you but I really cannot abandon this until I’m done.” You gestured to the mountain of stress in front of you.

Lando followed the gesture with his eyes, stretching a hand out to pluck a notebook with your scribble on it. You watched him scan it, a furrow making its way between his bushy eyebrows and it made you smile involuntarily. He looked absolutely adorable and so very confused.

“Medical terminology…” He read before trailing off with a sound of aversion. “So… What? You need to memorise these words?”

It would be a lie if you said that you hadn’t been a little distracted while he skimmed over the pages as if he understood what the words such as Popliteal and Supraclavicular meant. You were too busy looking at the arch of his nose and the tempting pout of his lips, admiring the slight redness covering the apples of his cheeks.

His eyes flicked up and you blinked back to reality, ignoring the teasing smile playing on his lips as you answered his previous question with a forlorn nod. You watched him light up slightly as an idea struck him.

“What?”

“What if I help you out?” He asked, sitting up slightly.

You almost laughed. Help? You’d be a delicious distraction.

“How would you help me?” You asked instead, smiling as he sat up fully and waved the notebook in his hand between you two. As if that would answer your question.

“May I?” He asked and you looked at his hand hovering over the textbooks.

It took you a second to realise what he was asking and you almost shook your head no, but Lando looked too excited and you weren’t about to rain on his parade so you nodded.

He didn’t waste any time with packing everything up and placing them in a surprisingly organised pile on the floor by the bed, keeping the notebook he’d been holding close by as he scooted up the bed and laid down with his head on the pillow. You gazed at him questioningly, feeling lost.

“Wow… You sure cleared my confusion up.” You said slowly after a beat of silence.

You watched your boyfriend roll his eyes, so sassy and so Lando it made your chest hurt with adoration.

“Alright smartass. Come here.” His hand circled your wrist and the tug almost sent you flying over him. You squealed in surprise, thankfully steadying yourself before you toppled over and looked down on Lando between the curtain of hair that had fallen over your face. “Sorry.”

You slapped his chest lightly and rearranged yourself so you were straddling his thighs gently as he’d probably intended to have you do from the start. The position made unexpected arousal flare up in your abdomen and it wasn’t disappearing any time soon with the way Lando was looking up at you from his position.

“Alright, can you please tell me what’s going on?” You asked nicely and placed your hands over his where they’d snuck up and found a home on your thighs.

He freed one hand and grabbed yours, fingers slotting nicely between yours and you resisted the sudden urge to grind down on him. Something about this man made you shamelessly feral.

“Okay so, you have to memorise all this gibberish and what better way than to practice on me?” He finished his sentence by tugging softly on your hand and you bent down when you understood his silent request, slotting your lips against his.

His lips felt soft and you couldn’t help but open up to his tongue, your body automatically melting into his as his free hand found its place on the small of your back to pull you in closer.

You allowed yourself a few seconds before sitting back up in his lap, feeling slightly disoriented.

“Is this your way of getting me into bed?” You narrowed your eyes jokingly in suspicion, earning a laugh from him.

“No, I genuinely want to help. But I wouldn’t mind you in bed with me, either.” He replied, pushing his hips up to readjust his position and jostling you in the process. “Go ahead, where do you wanna start?”

You pursed your lips in thought, deciding that starting at his face and working yourself down was the best way to do it. You were, after all, already sat on his legs and had made yourself quite comfortable. With your decision made, you placed one hand on the left side of Lando’s head and got close to him.

Lando sucked his lips into his mouth, big eyes watching you in silence but his facial expression said it all. It truly had been too long since you’d had sex, but maybe there was a way of incorporating intimacy into studying. Who birds, one stone and all that.

“So, this is the frontal.” You murmured, the other hand coming up to swipe a gentle finger across his forehead before moving down to his cheekbone. “The zygomatic bone.”

Lando blinked slowly, but he stayed silent as your fingers trailed down over the slope of his nose. A giggle left your lips as he scrunched his nose, the skin moving beneath the tips of your fingers.

“The nasal,” You muttered, trailing your fingers up to gently touch his eyelids as he closed his eyes. You couldn’t help but place soft kisses over each of them, watching him flutter them open to look at you. His eyelashes were ridiculously long and seductive. You hated it. “Oculus.”

Lando shifted beneath you, tongue coming out to wet his lips and you were immediately drawn to the sheen of them. You let out a small desperate breath, closing the small distance between the two of you for a kiss. Your boyfriend made a sound in his throat and you pulled back barely an inch to whisper.

“Oral cavity.” Before diving back in for a second kiss that he was more than happy to reciprocate.

It was easy to lose yourself in his touch and the warmth of his body against yours, your hand coming up to grab his thick hair in your grip while his circled around your body to pull you flush against him.

“Lando…” You let out a small whine when he pulled back to bite on your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth in a way that had your toes curling. “Fuck me.”

Any other day and you’d probably flush at the way you sounded so whiny, but you didn’t have time to overthink it before your boyfriend gathered up what remained of his self restraint to pull back. You chased his lips and only got a nip back, making you pout down at him.

“Keep going.” He ordered and you scooted up so your nether regions were flush against each other. He hissed your name in warning, “Don’t be a brat, finish what you started.”

You huffed and opened your mouth to protest but caught yourself when you saw the expression on his face. Shit, he really wasn’t playing around.

“Fine.” You bit out, wiggling a little in place to feel the smooth hardness of Lando between your legs.

The man in question tutted and reached out to grip your throat in a hold, gentle but it was strong enough to catch you off guard and still yourself in his lap.

“What is this part called?” He asked, awfully casual for someone who was half hard with their hand wrapped around your throat.

He flexed his fingers lightly and you searched your muddled brain for the answer, fighting the urge to moan when he squeezed. It wasn’t fair, he knew what he was doing to you.

“The esophagus.” You whispered, not daring to look away from his intense gaze as he carefully unwrapped his fingers from said body part, two of his fingers tapping your chin before resting on your bottom lip.

“Open.” He commanded softly and you did, without question.

You held his eyes as he slid two fingers inside, tasting the saltiness of his skin as he stroked over your tongue. The urge to gag hit you when he slid too far down, eyes watering when he wiggled his fingers inside teasingly.

“What’s this called?” He asked, and you could see the teasing pull of the corners of his mouth when you glared down at him.

How am I supposed to respond with your fingers down my throat? Your eyes screamed, but Lando merely raised his eyebrows and pressed his fingers forward in retaliation.

You gagged, a sound of despair escaping your drooling mouth.

You tried to reply with “Pharynx” but the words came out as a jumbled mess and you drooled down his fingers. But it was apparently good enough for Lando because he pulled back slightly to let you breathe more properly, stroking the width of your tongue in a silent command. You sucked on his fingers, cleaning them off of any saliva before he retrieved them entirely.

“Good girl.” The rasp in his voice made your stomach swoop as he smiled at you, placing his hands on either side of your hips. “Go on.”

You stared at him, not entirely sure what to do but he gave you the answer when he tugged on your t-shirt; A silent urge to take it off. You didn’t waste any time, grabbing it by the hem and lifting it off your torso; Almost falling over in the process. Lando chuckled at your eagerness and your face burned, but you refused to let that affect you. The two of you looked at one another for a beat before he dropped his gaze to your heaving, exposed chest. Never had you been happier to have foregone a bra, especially when he stroked both hands up your sides. He felt your skin beneath his palms, a shiver escaping you.

“Please,” You whispered, grinding down on the hardness beneath you. Your eyes fluttered.

“Please what?” His voice sounded teasing, bright eyes trained on you.

Instead of answering him verbally, you grabbed his hands in yours and placed them over the swell of your breasts. Lando inhaled at the feel of them in his palms, letting you squeeze his hands in yours. A moan escaped your mouth as his thumbs swiped over your nipples until they pebbled, back arching into his hold.

“So needy for me.”

His rough voice had you opening your eyes and he must’ve seen something in them because he took pity on you. The yelp that left your lips was anything but attractive when he embraced you and flipped you both over. Lando laughed when you bounced on the mattress, and you couldn’t help but giggle as the tension broke.

“Please, Lando.” You pleaded after the both of you had calmed down from your little fit, hands coming up to feel the taut of his stomach over his t-shirt.

You sounded needy in your own ears but you didn’t really care. And judging by your boyfriends teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he loved hearing you like this.

“Please what, darling?” His eyebrows drew together in fake sympathy, his gaze dropping to your chest when you arched your back.

You opened your mouth to answer him but the words died on your lips the second Lando leaned down and sucked a nipple into his mouth. You should’ve seen it coming, because he could never keep away from your tits for too long but the suction made you gasp all the same, hands coming up to grab at the back of his head.

“Just fuck me already.” You said.

Lando grabbed the both of your hands in his before pinning them to the side, suckling harsher on your teat before kissing his way over to the other side. You didn’t know what to focus on, the cool air on your wet nipple, his unforgiving mouth on the other one or the way his hands were digging into the skin of your wrists. The thought of him bruising you made you buck your hips up, craving it more than ever.

“You’re impatient tonight.” He drew back, blowing cool air on your saliva soaked skin and making you squirm. “I can’t decide whether I should punish you for being a needy little slut or fuck the brattiness out of you.”

You knew you shouldn’t talk back, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Anything would be better than this.” It came out as an indignant mutter but Lando’s eyes flared in challenge.

It was quick and you didn’t have time to react to his hand sailing down and slapping the meat of your breast. You yelled out in shock, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you tried to sit up as an automatic response. Lando tutted, quickly grabbing you by the throat and pushing you down with a strength that had you gasping for breath.

“This is what happens when I don’t fuck you for a week,” He hissed, eyebrows drawn in anger but you could see the desire in his eyes as he bent down to your eye level. “One week without my cock and you start acting like a bitch.”

Holy fuck, the filth coming from his mouth made your nerves light up in anticipation. It had been too long, so fucking long since he talked and behaved like this. You hadn’t realised how much you missed it until now.

His hand let go of your throat and instead cupped your chin, his fingers squeezing your mouth together until your eyes fluttered shut in need with a moan. Lando grinned down at you, tightening his grip just to watch your eyes roll before pressing a filthy kiss to your mouth that you barely had time to reciprocate before he pulled back.

It felt like you were in a daze, feeling him pull your sweatpants off along with your panties. He made an offhand comment about the wetness that you didn’t register, choosing to grit your teeth and ball your fists to keep from touching yourself instead.

Lando undressed himself without getting off the bed, albeit a little clumsily but he recovered quick and grabbed your thighs to spread them apart. The look on his face made you flush hot all over, almost like you were a meal he couldn’t wait to devour.

“Look at that, so wet already.” He hummed in appreciation and coated one finger in your slick before sinking it inside of you, revelling in your gasps. “All this for me, baby?”

“Mmm,” You swallowed, throat drying up and eyes closing at the sensation. “Just for you, Lando.”

“That’s what I thought.” He said smugly.

He sank a second finger inside and scissored them until he deemed you stretched enough, his free hand stopping your thighs from closing when you started to feel him pull out. It had been too long since you’d been touched like this, and Lando was always so talented with his fingers. He could truly play you like a fiddle.

“Don’t.” He growled, the tone of his voice making you squirm and separate your legs obediently again. “Good girl.”

You watched him in silence as he pulled his fingers out, slipping them into his mouth to clean them off with a hum that you felt in your core. Sweat was beading on your forehead and you were sure that you looked a mess. Lando didn’t seem to mind it though, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your body before settling on your face. His eyes softened at whatever he saw in your eyes and something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Kiss me, please?” You begged, suddenly needing him near you.

Lando didn’t hesitate as he bent over to press his mouth to yours, the kiss uncharacteristically gentle consider how crudely his cock was pressing against your mound, one hand sinking into your hair to tilt your head to his liking. He broke the kiss for a moment to reach to the side, opening up the drawer with a groan and rifling through the contents. You watched in mild amusement, taking in the pinch of his eyebrows and the concentration on his face. You took the opportunity to press kisses to his shoulder and up his throat, your tongue tasting the saltiness of his sweaty skin. Lando’s unstable position faltered and you sucked a small lovebite into the delicate skin of his neck for good measure.

“Fuck.” He swore with a breathless laugh, steadying himself and sitting upright.

You smiled up at him, planting your feet on the bed and bending your legs so Lando could get even closer to where you needed him the most. His bright eyes found yours, eyebrows rising. He bit into the tinfoil, tearing it open and fishing the condom out to slip it on.

The rubber wasn’t needed, not really. But Lando knew you well enough to know when you had enough energy after the deed to clean yourself up, and today wasn’t one of those days. He would often do it himself, ignoring your embarrassing protests as he wiped you down with a cloth and eventually giving up when he swatted your hands away.

Anticipation rose in you when he positioned himself but he seemed to change his mind at the last second, a devilish smile widening on his lips when he patted the side of your hip twice. You knew what that meant and you bit your lip in uncertainty. The dreaded position you loved and hated at the same time.

“Turn around and don’t make me ask twice.” Lando said after reading the look on your face and you made a noise that sounded a lot like dislike.

But you definitely didn’t want to stall it any longer, so you turned your body around and pressed your cheek against the mattress with your eyes closed. This position hit absolutely every nerve inside of you, but it also left you completely exposed and that’s mainly why you hated it.

Lando grabbed your hips and lifted you upwards so your knees were beneath you, exhaling as he slid his hands from your ass and down your back. The feel of his palm against the skin of your back made you arch despite your initial hesitation and something about that made the man behind you feel all the more needier.

“So fucking gorgeous,” You heard him whisper and you believed it. “Can’t wait to sink into this pretty little cunt.”

Unexpected heat shot down your back and you moaned, pressing back against Lando in hopes that he’d finally get the hint and fuck you. Your hands gripped the sheets on either side of your bed in anticipation at the thought.

“Fuck me, please.” It came out as a whispered plea.

“I will, don’t worry, love.”

And with that promise, he nudged himself inside. You arched in response, eyes shutting as he started pushing inside little by little. The stretch was incredible, making your toes curl and mouth open in a silent moan. Lando let out a sound of his own as he bottomed out, one hand grabbing your hips while the other settled over the small of your back to push down gently. You arched, and he seemed to like that because he immediately drew back before thrusting back in.

He found a rhythm you assumed he liked and you matched it by pushing back when he pushed in. A wave of heat overtakes you and your eyes roll in your sockets the harder he thrusts; Like a man on a mission, eager to bury himself inside you as far as he can go.

It hadn’t occured to you just how badly you’d been neglecting Lando lately, but it was evident in how his hands grabbed anywhere he could find purchase, your name leaving his mouth in a chant as he fucked you harder. You needed this as much as he did.

“Fuck, oh my God.” You tried to pull your hand back to touch yourself but you were jostled too harshly and you ended up being thrown off balance.

A high pitched whine left your mouth as Lando slipped out and just as you were about to turn your head to look at him, he’d grasped your hips and turned you around on your back. He reached for the pillow next to your head, stuffing it under your hips and kissing just beneath your navel in the process as a silent praise for raising your hips without him having to ask.

You watched with bated breath as he pressed kisses down your stomach, over your mound before latching his mouth onto your clit. The unexpected touch of his sinful mouth had you throwing your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Oh my God, Lando...” You moaned, attempting to tilt your head down so you could watch him but he was quick to flick his tongue against your clit and it only made you arch into his mouth.

Lando was holding the base of his cock, squeezing and willing himself not to blow too soon. He’d been waiting to get inside you long enough and he wasn’t about to end it before he’d had his fill of you. When he deemed it safe enough, he pulled away and positioned himself between your legs before sliding in. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip at your reaction, loving the flutter of your eyelids and the pretty way your mouth opened in a pathetic moan.

He couldn’t help but lower himself down onto you, mindful as to not suffocate you but just enough for you to feel the press of his chest against yours as he started fucking into your wet heat.

You took it like a champion, arms circling his upper body and legs falling open as he fucked you into the mattress with reckless abandon. The stress you’d been feeling the past week was slowly seeping out of you, and you welcomed the feeling of it as you brought Lando to your mouth, kissing him until you lost your breath.

“You’re so pretty,” Lando murmured against your lips breathlessly. “My pretty baby.”

He slid one hand between the two of you, long fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in a way that had you crying out against his mouth. Lando refused to blink, didn’t want to miss the look on your face as he brought you closer to euphoria.

“You know what this is, baby?” He asked, hand cupping your pussy and trying not to falter when he felt where the two of you were connected.

Fuck, you were soaking and Lando was really about to blow.

“This is mine.” He hissed, watching the way your eyes rolled before shutting. “Only I get to fuck it, you hear me?”

You opened your mouth to respond that yes, of course it fucking is - but the loud cry that left you instead surprised the both of you as your body tensed up, pussy clenching around his cock as you sobbed through your orgasm. Liquid heat trickled down your back and you momentarily blacked out at the sheer force of you tensing up in your climax.

“Oh fuck.” Lando hissed, dropping his head against the crook of your neck and fucking into your clenching pussy.

If your sounds and the look on your face wasn’t enough to bring him to his end, then the feel of your legs circling around him and locking him into place was enough to do his head in. You moaned weakly as he tensed up in your arms, shooting into the condom and grinding into your sensitive cunt, like he wanted to bury himself as deep as possible.

He probably didn’t realise that in his high, he’d dropped his entire weight on you but you absolutely didn’t mind it; Finding comfort in his heaving body and the feel of his damp hair as you buried your fingers into it.

“God, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” He garbled against your skin as he pulled himself out of you, lifting his head weakly to take a look at you.

You couldn’t help but grin at his flushed face and blown wide pupils, feeling thrilled that this gorgeous man loved you. And you loved him, so much.

“I could really go for a sandwich from the deli down the street right now.” You whispered dreamily, closing your eyes shut as he brought a shaking hand up to swipe a few damp strands from your forehead.

Lando pulled a face.

“If you think we’re not gonna order in, you’re sorely mistaken.”

He shook his head at the thought of leaving the bed - leaving you naked in his bed - to buy sandwiches. No matter how absolutely amazing they were. You blinked up at him with big eyes, pouting your lip and Lando knew right then that he’d lost any willpower he’d had left.

“Oh, you’re good.” He narrowed his eyes, sneaking his hands down to tickle your sides.

You squealed, squirming underneath him and yelling at him to stop, your body too weak to fight back. Lando kept going for a few seconds before he let you push him to the side so you were half laying on top of him instead.

“You’re evil.” You glared at him, but he could see the twitch of your raw lips and the love in your eyes so he didn’t take it too hard.

Lando gripped your chin gently and brought you in a for a kiss before pulling back to look at you. You blinked back and he smiled.

“Alright I’ll go down to the shop in one condition.” He said, trying to sound serious despite the massive grin on his face. “You hop in the shower, and then I want all these books gone from this room by the time I get back. We’re taking the rest of the night off.”

You suppressed a smile at the “we”, nodding your head reluctantly instead because for once you weren’t overwhelmed with stress and you weren’t about to bring it all back when Lando had worked so hard to relieve you of it. Hopefully he’d relieve you of it a couple more times later tonight.

“It’s a deal.” You agreed verbally, bringing your pinky to hook into his own.

“Alright, let’s get to it.” He brought an arm around and slapped your ass.

You jumped with a gasp, glaring at your boyfriend who cackled and jumped out of bed before you could kick him in retaliation. He looked amused as he walked around the bed to find tissues and get rid of the condom, cleaning himself up the best he could. He found the clothes he’d thrown on the floor, pulling them on all the while watching you stretch on the bed like a cat. It was so tempting to crawl back into bed and have his way with you but he gritted his teeth and turned to locate his wallet and phone.

“Text me your order, I’ll see you in a bit.” He said and leaned down to press two kisses to your lips, making a noise in his throat when you wound your hands in his hair and pulled him closer for a few more kisses. “I love you.”

You grinned against his mouth, teeth knocking together but you were too happy to care as he nipped your lower lip and pulled himself up to stand straight.

“Love you too. Be safe.”

You watched him walk out, smiling to yourself at how incredibly lucky you were.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fic #f1 smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic

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indecisivemuch · 3 months

Text

Lovesick & Lovelorn

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).

Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.

Word count: 3.3k

You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn.

Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.

At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.

Hence, the letters.

In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.

You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.

“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.

“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.

“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.

After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.

As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”

“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.

Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.

“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.

Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.

Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.

You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.

The box…where is the box?

You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.

“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.

“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”

Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.

“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.

“Listen, Luke—”

“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.

“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.

“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”

“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.

“Nope.”

“...So we’re ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.

“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”

“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.

“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.

“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.

You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.

“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.

However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.

You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.

You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading:

‘Dear Y/N,

This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.

You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer.

Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.

I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.

You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:

The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.

2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.

The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.

It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.

Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.

I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you.

In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it.

It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.

Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.

If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Luke Castellan’

Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.

“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.

“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.

Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.

“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.

“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.

“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.

“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips.

Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids.

You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.

--------------------

masterlist

Join my Luke Castellan taglist

taglist: @nininehaaa @perseus-jackass @tanifsblog @bubbly0 @hinata7346

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfiction #pjo fic #pjo #charlie bushnell #pjo imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo series #best friends to lovers #fluff

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clairegregoryau · 7 months

Text

Through the Looking Glass

From fairytale in Season 1 to stark reality in Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death- meta ported across from this Twitter thread by popular demand!

This thread contains spoilers for the entirety of OFMD Season 2

First OFMD S1 rewatch since S2, and holy shit, if you haven't done that yet... do that. A thing that it made instantly clear: they told us *all along* where this was going, but there was a reason we didn't see it. Because we were living in Stede's world then. Now it's Ed's.

I know that a lot of us have felt that the tone shift at the end of S2 was... jarring, compared to what's come before. This felt like a show that wouldn't go there. One where being run through was a temporary hiccup. We've travelled all the way from this to this.

But we haven't jumped there without a journey in between. And from the minute we started hearing about Blackbeard, the show never tried to hide what Ed's world and his specific life was like. Not once. In fact they told us over and over and over.

But Season 1 told us a lot of those things through song and story and fuckery. It blended reality with fiction.

Stede met the Blackbeard he knew through books and tall tales, and the real man was even more wonderful than he'd imagined.

We, along with Stede, were comfortable thinking that all those other tales were exaggerations and misrepresentations, and a lot of them very likely were.

The Ed Stede got to know was a person who was capable of whimsy and silliness and loved soft things and doing something weird. Yep, he was also capable of violence and rage, but when he was with Stede, he didn't feel it so much.

This was a vacation from that life.

To Stede he was absolutely lovely... oh, and also a bloodthirsty killer. And Stede loved (and loves) everything about him, and both of those things can be true. This is a perfect example of a spot where (in watching Season 1 without the benefit of hindsight) I assumed that everyone else in that pub was wrong, and Stede was simply trying to protect Ed's fearsome reputation by agreeing on the bloodthirsty bits. And I think from Stede's perspective that was largely true. I think that's how they wanted us to see Ed, through his eyes. Now, after watching both seasons, I think it wasn't the whole picture.

They told us, we heard it, we saw glimpses of it. But we (and Ed) were in Stede's run-away-to-sea fairytale the whole time. It wasn't until Stede left that we saw the reality- the Ed we knew had been, to a degree, a fictional character all along. I always saw this scene as Ed putting a bit of distance between himself and reality; it always felt like the Blackbeard of Stede's storybooks was the fictional one. But now it feels like the softer Ed that Stede knew was much the same- neither of them the whole story of who Ed was and is.

The one person who refused to live in Stede's fairytale was Izzy. I've seen people say it before, but he always gave off that vibe of the only human in the Muppets movie, or the guy who was in Black Sails while everyone else was in Pirates of the Caribbean. He saw the real risks clearly.

And in that light, the end of S1 has shifted an inch to the left for me, and I'm seeing it at a slightly different angle.

Izzy ripped away the healing Ed was doing, but in some respects he did it by tearing away the fairytale we'd all been living in, shoving Ed back into the Blackbeard story.

And that's where we pick up again in Season 2.

The fairytale reference came back in S2 in two notable places, those being Jim carrying that legacy forward in the darkest times, and in Izzy invoking the wooden boy against Ricky's efforts. Stede's made himself into a real boy. Ricky, nope.

Now that I've watched both seasons together, the tone shift doesn't feel so jarring at all, actually.

It feels like sliding through the looking glass, out of Stede's world, and into Ed's- a world that existed all along; we were just seeing it, la vie en rose, through Stede's eyes.

At the beginning of S2, Stede's gone, and we're seeing it unfiltered through Ed's reality.

But Stede wasn't lying when he said he loved everything about Ed. He made a promise to come back and find him- he went down into Ed's darkest place and reminded him that no matter how bad things got, there WAS someone waiting for him, ready to love him.

The contrast between S1's fantasy and S2's reality (excluding mermaids and actual bird guys and cursed coats) is stark, but it really is that.

We have the same settings, the same people, and very different ideas and outcomes at different times.

But it was always there.

Things do come back to a state of (precarious) balance once they're all together. Apologies are made, whether they're spoken out loud or through actions. Things go right, things go wrong. Healing happens. Izzy continues to have the steadiest, most real through-line in the story as he tracks toward redemption, finds acceptance, and to an extent finds himself.

Once again, I hate that they went here with the ending and I wish they hadn't. But it got a fraction easier for me looking at it not as a continuation of Stede's fairytale, but of the grounded-in-pirate-reality arc Izzy was always on, even while we lived in Stede's world.

Where does that leave us? We're not going back to the fairytale, but we're not going to be living in Black Sails for S3, either. We've hit a fusion point where S1 ended with each of them going to separate, miserable homes, but S2 ended with them in the same place, ready and willing to make a go of it.

Season 3 is going to give us their world, together.

I LOVED the moments in this season where the deep emotions were in balance with the silliness I've always adored about this show. Eps4-6 were wonderful like that. Clearly we're not done with drama, either, but like Ed and Stede, I think we'll find a middle ground.

Anyway in conclusion, a rewatch of S1 after S2 somehow made me love the first season even more, which felt impossible? It's now gained /even more/ layers of depth than it had before. No matter how you feel about S2 I think it's worth that rewatch.

Adding one more bit of clarity for myself: I think we got a bit (intentionally) seduced in S1 by the idea that the Ed of the storybooks, the Vampire Viking Clown with the nine guns, was a version of him that others saw, when Stede saw the REAL person who 'worked' for Blackbeard.

In hindsight I think it's clear the Ed Stede go to know was also not the complete version of himself- the reality is, there's a whole spectrum between the two, and they've landed in the middle of it now. Ed intentionally leaned into the unlovable Kraken image to protect himself.

It very much didn't work, just like being just... Edward hadn't worked to protect himself, either. This season has been very much about pulling those two extremes together and finding all the parts that make up Ed overall (another thread on that here on Twitter, which I'll also shift across to Tumblr soon!)

And I think one of my favourite things in S2 has been seeing the way Stede SEES that- he knows what Ed's done, everyone's told him, but he still loves Ed. sees his trauma and how it affects him, and believes he's a good man regardless. He IS lovable; he's not forever broken.

And together, they can heal.

#ofmd #our flag means death #gay pirates #ofmd meta #unreliable narrators #fantasy vs reality #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers

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gayerthangayer · 4 months

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Taking a Few for the Team

I've always had a fantasy about a sports team breeding one of the players, transferring all their fat to the one player. It's a work in progress, but here's the first part! Contains male weight gain & sex, and some bloating/gas.

Part two is here.

Exhausted, Aaron made his way out of his last class of the semester. Walking outside onto the cold winter afternoon, he admired how nice the snow looked across his college campus. Unfortunately, there was no snow on the indoor soccer field. His coach had insisted that the team practice tonight one last time before winter break.

Even though he only considered himself to be an average player on his team, Aaron enjoyed soccer. It was nice to have something going on other than his classes, and Aaron got along well with his teammates. His best friend Jess would always poke fun at him asking when he was going to hook up with the other players since they always acted so gay around each other. He didn’t mind though, since they were all cool with him being out as gay. His teammates would joke about it sometimes but only ever in jest.

He made his way back to his apartment he shared with Jess to grab his soccer bag, then he was off to practice. It went like any other, but near the end his coach made a point to tell all the boys they had better make sure and watch what they ate over the holiday break. “I don’t need you all to have to go harder at practice than you already will when you get back.” He figured he was being self-conscious, but Aaron felt like that statement had been directed at him. He was sure the coach made the most eye contact with him when he said that to everyone.

At 5’11 and fairly muscular, he was still definitely athletic. But with exams and everything going on, Aaron found himself stress eating more than usual. He had gained about 10 pounds since the start of the semester. It didn’t bother him, if anything it was just a good bulk that he could cut and gain some muscle mass if he hit the gym hard enough over the break. But his already small uniform shorts were definitely struggling with his slightly larger butt. His tops were definitely tighter too, but if he sucked in his belly it wasn’t too noticeable.

“Shit, I was really looking forward to eating good the next couple of weeks,” said Jared in the locker room after practice. “But you guys heard him, if I can’t then you can’t either.”

Jared is the team captain, who Aaron had a crush on. He was tall and muscular, and somehow ever so slightly tan even in the winter. He was assertive but also kind and understanding. It’s no wonder the team looked up to him.

“My girlfriend’s mom makes the best desserts! What coach doesn’t know won’t hurt him” complained Trevor. With a great sense of humor, he and Aaron were pretty good friends. Aaron was also a pretty good wingman for Trevor, which he appreciated.

“Yeah it’ll be hard. I’m not sure what I’ll do when my mom makes her famous pork roast. But think of how much better shape we’ll be in compared to the other teams once spring season starts” said Jared.

“Shit, you two are making me hungry” said Aaron as he took off his top.

“Look, just don’t overdo it, man” said Jared. Aaron could have sworn that Jared shot a quick glance at Aaron’s belly, but just like before he tried to write it off as being self-conscious.

He finished changing and headed back out into the cold night. On his drive home, he thought about his workout plans for the break. Like most of the other guys, he and his family both lived nearby to the school, so it’s not like he would have to give up the gym for a month. But also in the back of his mind, he knew that it wouldn’t matter, he probably wouldn’t go anyway.

—----------------------------

The last couple days of break came faster than he expected. Aaron was seriously not ready for classes and soccer practice to start back up again. In between hanging out with Jess and also his family, Aaron had spent a few nights drinking beers and playing video games with Trevor. It was nice to become closer as friends. But also, to hang out without feeling pressure from the team about somehow gaining more weight. He knew Trevor didn’t care, but Aaron was terrified about how he was going to explain to the coach why he could barely squeeze into his shorts and jersey.

Trying it on before their practice that night, Aaron could see in his mirror that there was now no hiding the fact that he did not spend a minute in the gym all month. Or that he had completely ignored his coach’s advice not to overindulge in his mom’s delicious cooking. His shorts were straining to cover his now very round ass, and his jersey was completely showing off his new belly and love handles. His pecs were now larger looking as well. “Dammit!” he muttered to himself. He was definitely a little chubby now. But even though he was nervous about his team’s judgment, somehow he felt a bit sexier? He’d always liked men with some meat on their bones, but had never really considered that look for himself. But damn, something about how he was filling out his uniform made his shorts even tighter…

But without much time to think about it, he rushed out the door to get to practice. Somehow he was already running late.

After getting to practice, Aaron was relieved. It looked like all the other guys had spent the holiday more or less exactly like he did. Especially Jared, who now had a bit of a pudgy belly along with slightly pronounced love handles under his jersey. He liked to wear a smaller size to show off his muscles Aaron suspected, but now it was just showing off his mom’s many desserts he had eaten.

Coach definitely noticed the guys’ different physiques as well, and seemed irritated that the team was doing their exercises slower than usual. At the end of practice, after a short conversation with Jared, the coach pulled all the guys into a quick meeting.

“Look, I know I told you boys not to overdo it with eating over the break…” said the coach, with an exasperated tone in his voice “but this is ridiculous. We are going to have to do something about it.”

“Yes coach…” the team said meekly, knowing full well what they had done.

“So here is the deal. Jared and I have come up with a plan to get you boys back in shape in time for spring season. Be ready to do whatever it takes! That’s it for today’s practice, but it won’t be as easy next time!”

While changing in the locker room, Aaron reflected on what coach had told them. ‘Do whatever it takes?’ Aaron was already dreading the next practice and he hadn’t even left this one. Being the chubbiest one on the team, he knew whatever coach had in store was not going to be easy.

“Way to go, fatass” Trent said angrily, poking Aaron in his soft belly. “Now we are going to have to work out twice as hard because of you.” Trent was a player that could get pretty heated in the game, but Aaron had never had Trent get confrontational with him off the field. So this was definitely a first that Aaron didn’t know how to handle.

“I… I don’t…” stammered Aaron, blushing a little in embarrassment. He didn’t know what to do.

“Whoa calm down man” Trevor came and stood between the two. “Look, we’ve all put on a few over the holiday. I know I at least have a little beer belly now.” Trevor said, making a point to grab the little bit of belly fat he had gained and laughed. “It’s all good. We’ll get back in shape in no time.”

“He’s right, it’s not the end of the world” chimed in Jared. “Coach and I put a plan together, and it’ll definitely be faster than a normal training regimen. We should do great this season.”

“And how the hell are we going to pull that off?” demanded Trent “Other than working out twice as hard, what are we supposed to do?”

“We haven't worked out the formula just yet, but I’m sure we can do it. Just listen to me and coach. We have a plan.” said Jared, with more of his assertive-team-captain tone than before. He was still positive as usual, but Trent could tell this conversation was over.

Formula? That was an odd choice of words, thought Aaron later that night. What did he mean?

All Aaron knew was Trent poking his belly and calling him a fatass earlier was somehow… insanely hot. Fuck, why was it so hot!? If Trevor hadn’t stood in front of him, his boner in his boxer briefs would have been on full display for the whole team to see. Thankfully his normally eight incher was now slightly smaller from his new encroaching fat pad.

That night, he beat himself off grabbing his belly and playing that scene over and over in his head…

The next day, Aaron got a group text from Jared.

'Hey everyone, team meeting tonight at my place. Be there at 7.'

'Damn' Aaron thought to himself. 'What is so important we couldn't have gone over it yesterday?!'

Regardless, team meetings at Jared's house usually ended up being more of a kickback than a meeting. The guys all usually brought a few beers, snacks, and some video games to enjoy after whatever team business was discussed. Jared's family had moved away but kept the house so he could live in it while he finished college. This made it the perfect place for them to all hang.

After pulling up to Jared's quiet suburban home, he headed down to the large basement living room, where the team usually hung out. It had multiple sofas and plenty of space for the whole team.

He was surprised to find that he was the last one on the team to arrive.

"Hey man! Didn't know you had it in you to be on time to anything" Aaron said jokingly to Trevor as he sat on the couch next to him.

"Dude what are you talking about? Jared said to be here at six th-"

Trevor was immediately cut off by Jared who jumped up and started the meeting.

"Glad to see you all could make it." Jared said, standing and facing everyone. "I wanted to go over the plan coach and I made to get us all in shape. We are very excited but it's going to take every guy on this team doing his part."

Jared held up a protein shaker bottle filled with an ivory liquid. It just looked like any other protein shake. "Coach and I consulted with some people in the chemistry department and formulated a unique protein shake mixture for each of you. It's highly concentrated and is specially formulated to last longer than a normal shake. Because of this, we probably only have to drink it once a week. So every week starting today, we will all drink it together, that way I know nobody is slacking."

"Seriously?!" Chimed Trent "you have to babysit us about it?"

"No you don't understand. It's just way easier this way." Said Jared. He seemed annoyed that Trent would say something like that, as if he should have known better.

"Anyway, we are still working on the flavors. So let me know what you guys think!" Jared handed everyone a bottle with their name on it.

Aaron gave it a couple shakes then put the bottle up to his mouth and took a big sip. The shake was… delicious. It was so sweet and rich and nothing at all like those nasty protein shakes he was used to.

"Fuck that's good." "Hey man, what's in this?" "Damn it's just like ice cream…" the other guys clearly enjoyed theirs too.

"Glad y'all like it. Anyway, that's the meeting. Once you finish your shakes, I've got plenty of beers in the fridge." Said Jared with a grin on his face. "One more thing. We noticed when we were testing it, sometimes the shakes can make you a little… bloated."

As if on cue, Trevor let out a long *buuUuuUURRP* followed by some hearty laughter from the rest of the guys.

"Look if this gets us in shape like you say it will, a couple burps won't kill me" joked Trevor.

"Oh don't worry, it'll work just fine." Said Jared.

The team came prepared with the usual snacks, beer and video games. They were broing out just like any other team meeting before long.

20 minutes later…

—---------------------------

The guys started getting really gassy. Being a soccer team that spent tons of time together, an occasional fart or burp was not new for the boys. It was always followed by laughter at the expense of the perpetrator, but this was different. The teammates were all feeling way more bloated than they had ever been. ‘Hopefully these shakes are worth it…’ their faces seemed to say.

At first they seemed to be a little embarrassed about it, but after a few minutes of laughing at each other they were letting it all out. All the boys at this point were occasionally farting and burping. Aaron noticed that the boys’ cheeks were becoming a little flush as well. They were also starting to get hard. Rock hard. Aaron noticed that everyone on the team had a boner visible through their shorts by now. Even himself.

All the guys were blushing as they started noticing the strange effects of this protein shake they had been given.

"Yeah sorry guys, it has some odd side effects" said Jared.

Aaron felt super flustered. The guys knew he was gay, but staring at all their protruding manhoods felt like a step too far. He got up to go to the bathroom, but as he did…

"Hey... Has anyone else noticed how fat Aaron's ass is?" Said Trent

"You're joking right?" Aaron said in disbelief.

"Like, seriously huge..." said Trent, as he stroked his cock through his shorts.

"...hey!" Aaron was completely shocked. This… didn’t feel like their normal banter.

"I'm serious!" Said Trent. "Has it always jiggled this much??" He got up and gave Aaron’s ass a huge smack. Even through his shorts, you could see it shake in recoil.

Come to think of it, Aaron thought, was it usually that jiggly? Was this another bizarre effect of these shakes?

The next thing he knew, Trent grabbed Aarons shorts and pulled them to the ground.

"Holy fuck!" exclaimed Trent "That ass is fucking insane!"

"What the fuck is going on here!?" yelled Jared "Get your *buuuURP* hands off my teammate!"

Trent grabbed Aaron's cheeks and squeezed. His fingers sank deep into the soft flesh, which he loved. He pushed Aaron firmly between the shoulder blades, the boy bracing himself on the couch. Trent mimed fucking Aarons ass in front of the team, causing an uproar of laughter.

“Hey man, chill out!” Exclaimed Jared. “I told you how this was going to work.”

Jared grabbed Trent by the collar of his shirt and pulled him away. But then quickly dropped his own shorts and stood behind Aaron.

It all happened so fast Aaron didn’t have a chance to move. From being shocked about what Trent had done to him, to being frozen by seeing Jared act so dominant. Aaron just watched in shock as he was still bent over the couch. But he didn’t really want to move, either. He was starting to feel unusually calm.

The next thing he knew, Jared reached for some lube that was on the side table, and rubbed it on his huge rock hard cock. Wait… Aaron thought to himself, was that lube always there? Why would Jared leave it out like that?

Aaron also noticed that Jared’s balls were looking massive, as if they were a pair of oranges.

“Get ready, fatass” moaned Jared. He gave Aaron’s jiggly ass a good slap and then grabbed him by his love handles.

Aaron felt a tingle through his body. He had never had a dick in his ass before. But he had always fantasized about it. This was a very weird night so far, but he’d be lying if he said he had never fantasized about having handsome, tall, fit, dominant but gentle Jared pound his tight (and now fat) ass.

His ass relaxed as if on queue, and Jared easily slipped in. Aaron moaned quietly at the sensation of having his first dick inside him.

He could hear Jared burping as he slid back and forth. The guys were definitely getting gassy because of their shakes.

Aaron groaned as Jared began to go deeper and harder. He was so turned on by this. He didn’t care that his whole team was there. He didn't mind the gas or the loud farts that Jared was letting out. In fact, he liked it. There was something about being taken by his team captain, called names and fucked in the ass that made him feel so incredibly horny.

Jared was thrusting really hard now and Aaron could feel Jared’s huge balls colliding with his own. It was so hot feeling Jared’s fat cock sliding in and out of his ass.

"Fuck, yeah, fuck me, I love it!" whined Aaron, leaning forward on the couch.

Jared continued to pound away, slamming Aaron's asshole relentlessly. He was so focused on Jared that he forgot the rest of the team was in the room, watching and stroking their cocks to Aaron and Jared.

"Come on, you fat bitch, take my dick! *BUuuuuUP* You're gonna be our team slut now!" yelled Jared.

Aaron nodded his head in agreement as Jared pounded away.

“Fuuuck…” was all Aaron could let out between his moans. He had never been so aroused. All he wanted at this point was to feel Jared release his huge load inside him.

"Take it, take it all… Take my load!" cried Jared, as he came inside Aaron's soft stomach. Aaron felt him gushing inside him. It felt like he was cumming forever, to the point where Aaron began to feel a slight pressure inside him from all the sloshing cum.

When Jared was done, he slowly pulled out of Aaron's ass. “Don’t let that go to waste, fatboy” he said as he slapped Aarons’ dribbling ass. He started laughing as he looked at Aaron's now rounder and softer belly. Aaron looked as if he had instantly put on 10 pounds. "Damn, did I do that? You look even fatter now"

"It feels... tight" said Aaron, out of breath. "But it's amazing." He put a hand on his belly and felt not only Jared's cum sloshing around but also a softer layer of fat beneath his sweaty skin.

"I definitely feel less bloated now," said Jared with a grin, "you guys should try it" he said to the rest of the guys.

Aaron looked up and noticed Jared’s balls were normal sized now. Jared also looked like he… had lost weight? How was that possible? He looked like he was back to his toned, muscular body that he had before break. But Aaron was still in too much of a daze to think much more about it. He wanted to cum himself but his belly was too tight to focus.

The other boys all looked hesitant but something told Aaron that they all wanted to fuck him and unload their cum in him just like their team captain did.

Part two

#male wg #gay gainer #exjock #wg story #weight gain fiction #wg fiction #bloating #burp #burp kink #bloat kink #gainer fiction #gainer stories #gay wg fiction #gay gainer stories #gaining weight on purpose #chubby #gaining kink #wg kink #bhm wg

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tomlinfonda · 1 year

Text

Watching this scene for the first time, an interesting thought popped in my head: this sounds like Trent from season 1.

I wish I could add a video clip, because the tone of his voice is extremely reminiscent of an early Trent, cold and distrusting of Ted's methods. A specific line that came to mind is:

Well, sure, this show loves a parallel. I'm sure there's no theory to extrapolate from this, I thought for a second. Until my rewatch of the episode, which brought with itself a revelation:

There are 3 times in "The Strings That Bind Us" when Trent enters a room and starts a conversation with Ted about Total Football by saying his name.

Conversation 1: we have a colder Trent who questions Ted's choices as a football coach. This represents Trent from Season 1. I believe this calls back to their interactions before their dinner in 1.03, specifically the one I pointed out above.

UPDATE: As pointed out by @flamboyantcatastrophe, this is a DIRECT callback to their first ever conversation. Both times, Trent starts with "I just wanna make sure I have this right."

Conversation 2: we have a friendly, curious Trent. He is fascinated by Ted's way of thinking, wants to know what's on his mind. If you go back to the episode and rewatch this scene, you may notice the flirty tone in his voice and the way he walks being reminiscent of him approaching Ted in the Crown and Anchor pub in 2.07. This represents Trent from Season 2. .

There is also a specific callback to one of their scenes from that season (arguably, their most pivotal by that point):

"Like the man once said" // "As the man says"

Conversation 3 shows Trent having Total faith in Ted's methods, encouraging him and showing him full, unbridled support. This is obviously Trent from Season 3.

As there are parallels to other TedTrent moments in the previous two instances, I wonder if this one will be paralleled in future episodes (maybe even the finale). It's easy to imagine a romantic scene similar to this one. Hell, this one is pretty romantic already. If you've watched one or two romcoms, you must be familiar with romantic leads racing through airports, barging in through chapel (or press conference room) doors, trying to reach their love interest before they get on the plane, say "I do" or otherwise do anything else that might cause the door to close on their potential happy ending. Thankfully, the love interest stops that door at the last moment, throwing it open, calling out the name of the one they love, the one they can't let get away.

Another interesting bit is that Trent is shown picking up the rainbow mug and drinking from it between Conversations 1 and 2. Fitting, since C2 calls back to 2.12, and we know Trent came out before that. But could it actually be that he came out between Seasons 1 and 2?

Now let's talk a little bit about the Red String metaphor.

First things first, Jamie asks what's with the red string. The camera immediately cuts to Trent, who is wearing a red string bracelet.

Ted then explains what the red string symbolizes, and points out that said string is attached to the little fingers of soulmates.

Earlier in the episode, we have this shot of Trent's little finger pointing towards the red stripes on Ted's hoodie.

And later in the episode, Trent wears a red lanyard around his neck.

Something else I've noticed:

Their first scene in this episode happens in the press room, where they first met.

In the last scene of the episode, they are connected by a red wall.

Also, since their first scene in this episode calls back to their first meeting, could their last scene of the episode foreshadow their last scene together in the show?

I find it very interesting that in the "soulmates" episode, Ted's plot is book-ended by two scenes with Trent: one that happens in the room where they first met, one that is written like a scene in a romantic comedy. And between them, we have scenes that call back to the journey that brought them here. The thread of their history runs through this episode like an invisible red string, bringing them together, leading to an inevitable conclusion.

#tedtrent #tedependent #trent crimm #ted lasso spoilers #ted x trent #ted/trent

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vampyrgoff · 9 months

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Hey lovely 🖤 Requesting a Nsfw alphabet for my stinky roadkill boyfriend Lester (if you don't mind!).

I swear to God I've read every single Lester centric thing here and I'm STARVED for content. Plus I really enjoyed the way you wrote Vincent's!

NSFW Alphabet: Lester Sinclair

lester sinclair x reader

contains— nsfw!MDNI, semi-pervy Lester?, sub!Lester (sorry to my Dom!Lester loves ppl out there), dom!reader, virgin!Lester, experienced!reader, lil bit of a mommy kink lol, somno👀, foot job? also not proofread lol

requests— open! send anything! check my page for who I write for!

vampyr’s note— IM SO HAPPY! THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST EVER? I noticed that there is a MAJOR shortage of fics/headcanons/anything really of Lester. i hope this helps that Lester Sinclair thirst be quenched<3 And thanks for liking how I wrote Vincent<3! That makes me so happy that people are enjoying it. AS ALWAYS: REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED <3 Overall thanks for requesting! and I hope you like it<3

(let me know if I should make a taglist and if you'd like to be on a future potential taglist)

gif isn't mine! here's the link to vincent's <3

(HES SO CUTE HERE)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Lester probably is pretty clueless when it comes to aftercare let's be honest. He's probably gonna ask what you need from him and that he'll do whatever you tell him to. But once he gets the hang of things, he's always gonna cuddle you and call you all types of cute names.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He possibly can't choose between what body part of yours is his favorite. He definitely loves every aspect of you, I def think even though in the movie he was staring at Carly's chest, he's an ass man kinda like Bo lol He loves your butt, what can I say.

When you first met, you were on a camping trip with 'friends' or so you thought. They left you and your broken-down car to go see some stupid game of the season. You felt hopeless and wandered around the woods, looking for anyone to help you before stumbling on the roadkill pile. You felt your stomach turn and twist with disgust. The smell was unbearable as you looked at all the deer heads and bodies rotting away in a large pile. The Louisiana heat, already unbearable, made the rotting smell more pungent.

What made you stop in your tracks was, near the gorey pile, you see a smartphone. The screen was cracked and the phone was dirty, but you couldn't help but recognize the phone as one of your friends. You bent over inspecting the phone until you heard an unfamiliar voice from behind you. "Well isn't this a nice view, Jonesy?"

You turned around and were greeted by a cute petite man and his dog. The dog sniffed at your legs and such and the man gave you a warm smile that made you feel a teensy bit better about the situation you were currently in. "Hi! I'm (y/n)! I'm so glad I'm not alone in these woods." you say in relief. The man smiles at you, a cute little cheeky grin. "Name's Lester! And tha's Jonesy. Ya seem lost, sweet pea." His voice was dripped with concern and cute little worried eyes. You had so many questions and you were too tired to even think of any until you remembered the broken smartphone of your friend. You turned your back to Lester and grabbed the phone. While your back was turned to him all he could see was your ass. MAN! He admired the slight peak of your underwear and began blushing a bit. It's been a while since a pretty young thing like you came along, so forgive him for being so pervy.

Ever since that day, Lester knew what his physical fave thing about you was. This man will watch you help Bo at the gas station and his eyes are just watching your ass move.

When you guys cuddle at night, he'll bashfully grab two handfuls of your ass. He'll knead at the skin and kiss your face and neck. He knows how wet you get from such a simple gesture but he loves seeing you squirm under his touch, especially when he does it with such a cute boyish innocence.

His favorite body part on himself is probably his hands aswell. I headcanon (I have a Lester headcanon thing coming up so look out for that<;3) that he's good at carving things in a woodshop way. Vincent is not the only one that has an amazing talent. I think Les' is way more hidden but nonetheless, he loves how he can skin a buck, and carve a beautiful thing out of wood/bone.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This lovely gentleman is scared to cum in your mouth. He's already a stinky boy but he's scared that he'll taste too bitter for you. He also is scared to cum in your mouth out of respect. He feels as though it's so demeaning but you convince him that it's okay for him to do so. Although it takes him some warming up to do when it comes to shooting loads into your mouth, trust me, when he starts to get comfy with doing it, it's his favorite thing in the entire world. He loves how you look at him through your lashes while you lick every drop of him up.

He loves to feel in control for those little few moments before you eventually put him back into his place by overstimulating his senses. When it comes to you and your cum, he's such a slut for it, yall. He loves seeing you cream all over his cock. He'll look at you in awe when he sees you bouncing on his dick and there's a whole bunch of cum dripping out of you. His adorable eyes will be half-lidded and his hands squeezing and rubbing at your thighs while he whimpers and groans your name a few times. "Oh, sweet pea, I love when 'yer pretty cunt squeezes me like this." He's a messy boy alright, but he loves when you make him a mess.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Les constantly thinks about domming you all the time. Although it seems as though he won't get close to doing that, he thinks about it all the time. He thinks about making you scream for him but he's such a gentleman and a sub to do so. He likes the idea of you taking control so that he doesn't ever do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Another virgin boy. His experience is only with himself. I think this is why he's not into domming you just yet until you guys are together for longer. He's never had to take the lead in anything, he's the baby... and he sure as hell acts like it. The first time you guys do anything remotely sexual, you have to guide him.

This poor baby is so clueless in the bedroom that you had to teach him how to finger you AND eat you out. You had to shape him into the little munch he is today.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I don't know if you can truly say that this is a position but this man is the best at pussy eating, with that being said... sit on his face <3 He doesn't care about how big or small you are... sit on that mf face.

As a plus-size girl, I get being scared but NOOOO this boy loves your plushy thighs around his head. He grips them so hard and needily, needing your cunt as close as possible, as he laps at your folds and sucks on your clit. He loves tonguing your hole as you pull on his hair every so often.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can be humorous and giddy. This man lives for cute little moments with you. He'll get really flustered and make joke to lighten things before he becomes so embarrassed and red that he won't be able to speak.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I don't think its a forest down there but I'm sure he trims the hair on his own.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Oh, this lovebug is SO romantic. He kisses your cunt and thanks you for letting him even near your cunt before he devours you. He'll kiss and suck on your thighs when you let him eat you out.

If you've had such a long day of distracting guests and stuff, he'll have you lay down naked on the bed and kiss you all over. He'll kiss your legs and feet, will kiss your thighs, inner thighs, and will kiss your pretty stomach and chest. It definitely gets you going though when he acts this way for foreplay.

While you sit on his cock and bounce, he'll say cute things that egg you on, "Honeydew... my cock-- I think I needa' cum, sweet pea--", "More, please mama!", "yer so pretty, darlin', how'd i get so lucky?"

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This baby lovesss jerking off. It's the best way for him to get rid of his anger, his horniness and well it helps him relax. I think he's such a sweetheart about being horny a lot. To him, he sees it is quite bothersome to constantly ask for sex, so this'll be his best option. He always says "My momma raised me righ', I will never make you uncomfortable on purpose, sweet pea." so don't expect him to constantly ask you to fuck... cause he will not give in babes, he will very much mind his business and wait for you to come to him. But if you ask, I think he'd tell you that he wants to do things but I don't see him outright saying it.

I think the first time you caught him masturbating was quite interesting...

You caught the cutie in his room jerking off. Your (used) panties stuffed in his mouth so that he wouldn't make any noise at all. You couldn't help but admire him in all his subby glory. You were standing at the door for a long while. He was jerking his cock, nice and slow, the muscles on his tummy contracting as he went over his sensitive head when all of a sudden you spoke up. "Keep going, Les."

His head snapped towards you and you felt your lust growing deep within you. You closed the door from behind you and stepped closer to the bed. Slowly making your way to sit on your knees next to him on the bed. His eyes were still wide with shock when you grabbed your panties from his mouth. "Why'd ya stop, Les?" you said, giving him such a coy and teasing smile.

He bucked his hips up into his hand and played with his tip with the other. He looked clueless on how to really pleasure himself. It was so cute to you though. So you def helped him out, without touching him of course. You instructed him to stroke his cock slowly as he watched you play with your breasts and roll your nipples between your fingers. Watching you made him so feral, and you knew it.

You let him watch you play with your clit through your panties. You also let him watch you toy with your hole through your panties as well. He went soooo crazy over that though, you were staring at his dick while it twitched in excitement.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Collaring: This boy loves being your little lap dog. He loves when you're riding him and pulling on a leash connected to his collar. He gets so loud and whiny. He also likes collaring you babes! But I think he’d go all out for it. It’d say something like “Honeydew” on it or any other name you liked to be called. When you’re collared, his heart swells and he think you look so adorable. He’d even get a tag on the collar that says “Lester Sinclair’s property”

Somno: This boy is such a people pleaser and that doesn't exclude you, he'll wake up horny asf and he'll look over at you in just a t-shirt and he'll feel his heart RACING. He's gonna pull up that t-shirt slowly and get to work at your folds. He starts off with small cute kitten licks at your clit; watching you stir your sleep and shift a bit at the feeling. He'll slowly put your legs on his shoulders and lick up the juices that start to build up. He feels like it's wrong to take advantage of you, with his cheeks pink and rosy with slight embarrassment, but he loves the idea of you waking up and seeing him as such a good needy boy. On the other hand... he doesn't mind if you wake up and feel the need to want him too. He loves the idea of him waking up, already breaking a sweat, and seeing you perched on top of him with his cock deep inside you. DUDEEE he'd love it. He'd be so surprised too, his cheeks all pink and his heart racing. He'd def have these low whines and whimpers that would come out of him.

Breeding: Now... I saw a comment on my Vincent post from @iwhat saying that every Southerner has a breeding kink. AND YOU KNOW WHAT- anyways this baby is very scared of getting you pregnant at first okayyyyy. Like he's terrified. Especially if you've never brought up wanting kids. Like this man will always pull out whenever he can. But once you tell him that you want his cum in you, he's so ready to give you his all. This poor baby LIVES off of praise and your validation so he'll do whatever he can to give you his cum. He wants kids and he wants you to bear them, so when he's bucking his hips up into you while you have your hand resting at his throat, he's gonna slam into that cervix of yours so desperately, almost like his in a trance, almost like he's pussydrunk. He loves the thought of you being pregnant with his offspring and he loves the thought that he's doing WAY better than his brothers too. He's mostly happy that he basically found a spouse before Bo could

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In his or on his truck. 100%. He'll deep clean the back and add bedding to it. Just so that he could fuck you under the stars. Or for you to dom him under the stars. Whatever works. I'm sure you love watching his heaving chest go up and down as you rub his cock through your folds. He also loves when you guys lure visitors together, cause that means this brave little man is gonna get some rewarding head from you inside the truck.

On a different note, he has a little spot in the woods where he has a hammock set up and a little blanketed area for you guys when you want to get out of town. It has fairy lights and all. It was a gift he brought to you as a "thanks-for-loving-me-and-not-leaving-me-even-though-our-family-is-crazy" gift. After your romantic picnic, when he was cleaning everything up, you told him to leave it. And he sure did. It's your favorite place to go since it takes your mind off of everything.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Oh, this baby probs gets turned on by everything. I think it's your thighs and cleavage. This man could stare at your thighs in the blazing heat all day. He loves when you wear your shorts all around town. When you ride with him to get more buck he'll slyly stare at your thighs and his mouth will JUST water.

He'll rest his calloused hand on your thigh and knead at the supple skin. "Yer' skin's so beautiful, honeydew." He'll say lowly with a small smile on his face, as he leans into you and kisses your cheek. Of course, his hands will never stop groping your thigh, he loves the way it ripples.

Other times, you guys will sit in the house and watch a bit of TV with Jonesy. You'll lay down on the couch with your legs over his and he'll definitely look over and just play with your thighs. How could he not... you're sitting there in his flannel and your little shorts. All he could think is leaving cute love bites all over them. He'll lean his body down to kiss your thighs, earning a cute little giggle from you, and the sound goes straight to his cock, his cock twitching slightly at the fact that you're enjoying his affection. Noticing his hard cock on your legs, your face lights up with joy at the thought of teasing this cutie about his obsession with your thighs.

You look at him and whine about your thighs aching and how you need them soothed. He'll get so excited and will want you to sit on his lap with your legs spread apart so that he could just pay EXTRA attention to your thighs and you'll watch him knead at your skin in admiration. He loves the skin that surrounds your cunt. You stop his hands and snake his cock out of his jeans and let it spring out. You smirk and wrap your thighs around it; ignoring his cute whines, "Fuck my thighs, pretty boy."

This man loves your thighs so much.. don't even question it

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Lester seems like the type where not much bothers him. He’s good with knives and stuff but I don’t think he’d use them on you… at all. like again he’s good at carving stuff out of wood but like if you were to tell him to cut you this man will 100% say no. He also will say no to degrading you. Even if you like it, this man will go out of his way to only praise you. He’s a soft dom <3

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh, yall know this baby loves receiving. He just won't admit it. (this doesn't mean he doesn't also love giving) But he's obsessed with getting the life sucked out of him. This cutie is so timid when it's his turn for oral. Once your lips are on him, you'll need to gag this man if you think he can be quiet. His tip is very sensitive so when you tease him with small kitten licks on his red pulsing tip, expect him to be whimpering your name like a prayer...

You pull his jeans down along with his briefs and watch his cock spring and hit his stomach as he lays down, a small groan erupting from the back of his throat, "y/n-sweetheart... please." he'll whine out. And all you can do is smirk and smile at his cute plea. "I haven't touched you yet, Les. Good things come to those who simply... wait," you say while licking a long strip of the underside of his cock, beads of sweat already pricking his hairline. A low groan comes from him and he's already resting his hands on your thighs that are on either side of his torso. "y/n, please... I jus' wanna feel you... and make you feel goo-" His sentence was interrupted by another whine coming from him, this time being that you were kitten licking his pre-cumming tip. "y/n please-"

"ah-ah-ah, address me right, baby..." you say softly yet assertively. Your hand already sliding up to his throat, his bod already tensing. “mommy… please”

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’ll do whatever you tell him. If you’re riding him and tell him to fuck up into you while you swivel your hips on him, he’ll do it in a heartbeat. If you need him to slow down his needy thrusts to tease him, he’ll do it in a heartbeat. He’s your little toy to play with <3

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He likes quickies but he also doesn’t like them. At the end of the day though… this man is a service top and will do whatever he can to keep you happy. Quickies wouldn’t be too often but I think they happen here and there. I can see you pulling him into a nearby closet and just pressing your ass on his crotch. He’d get so flustered, hands already flying to your sides, running low down to your hips and pulling your lower half flush against him. He’s quite easy to turn on so just a little moment like this could get him going completely.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He only would like to experiment if it’s you who brings it up. He’s creative with his hands and can get pretty crafty but when it comes to your guys’ sex life… I think he’s too nervous to even bring anything up. I think he’d love some sex in the forest but he’s never gonna tell you that, because he’s afraid of you thinking he’s weird :(

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Don’t hate me but this baby can’t last too long. He loves edging and loves when you take control and edge his orgasm for a few hours. But don’t expect him to last awhile once he’s inside you. Poor baby could probably cum from just cockwarming.

He gets sensitive after 2 rounds, small traces on the vein of his cock will get him crying. He’ll start begging once you lick all around his tip.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

A small cockring for him. he’s so baby that he’d probably get really jealous of your toys, if you have any. If you’re feeling horny and he’s not around, give him a call instead. He’s totally talk you through an orgasm rather than you use a dildo.

You had to convince him to try out the cockring though. He had NO idea what it is and wtf it’s supposed to stimulate on him. But once he see your pleading eyes, he TRULY can’t say no to you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He isn’t much of a tease, he’s a service top after all. He does things unintentionally that can be seen as teasing though. Like when you guys are on the couch with Jonesy, he’ll trace his calloused fingers along your soft inner thighs. That shit drives you wild though, for sure.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He whimpers idc. This man whimpers and he’s loud. His whimpers have a bit of vocal fry but it’s so cute and charming coming from him <3.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Secretly wants you to peg him. idc you can’t tell me otherwise, if not pegging him he would love to try anal with you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i think he’s pretty average maybe a bit thicker than average. carpet matches the drapes for sure. his tip is bright pink idc

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s always horny and yea touch starved as fuck too. BUT he won’t tell you. You’ll just have to catch him when his bulge is causing him some slight discomfort.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

this baby is so spoiled, once he gets the ass he’s been begging for this mf starts to fall asleep. It’s okay you guys take turns being the pillow prince/princess. he gets all soft and falls asleep near your stomach holding you tightly by your ass. Fondling it as he drifts off. he’s so cute but he falls asleep wayyyy too fast lol.

#slashers #vincent sinclair #house of wax #slashers x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair imagine #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader smut #sinclair brothers #slasher smut

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lanitalay · 28 days

Text

Supernatural

Azriel Supernatural AU x reader

Summary: In which you encounter a couple of hunters during a case.

A/N: I've been rewatching supernatural and i just love it. This is based on the early seasons. Hopefully the ACOTAR and Supernatural fandoms overlap.

Warnings: mentions of blood and death, nothing descriptive.

wordcount: 1.7k

Masterlist

“It’s totally vampires, Az. Remember that nest we took out in Idaho? They did the same thing with their victims.” Azriel bites his lip recalling that hunt, it was in the top ten worst moments of his life. “I know you’re right but those things give me the creeps. The way their fangs just-” he gags thinking about the extra set of teeth.

“You big baby, it's just teeth. What gets me is the decapitation. Ghosts are easy. Salt. Fire. But these suckers are a nasty job.” You look over your notes before asking “do you think Cass and Rhys could give us a hand? I think we’ll be outnumbered.”

He shakes his head “we could call but last time we talked they were up to their necks on a vengeful spirit case. Get this, the bones are scattered in different places because the deceased couldn’t decide where to be buried.” You chuckle. “Those two always get caught up in something like that. What about Mor? Or Amren? I’ll call them just in case.”

Two phone calls later and no back up to show for it. “That was a bust.” Azriel nudges your arm. “Hey, we can do this. We can figure out a way to take them out one at a time.” You sigh and lean your head against the window. Watching as endless fields blur into one another. “You’re right, wake me up when we get there will you?” Before he can say yes you’ve dozed off.

The road to Texas was long and lonely for Azriel. You slept the whole way and he was forced to keep himself company with mindless humming and singing lyrics from songs he probably misremembers. You’re usually the dj, but he knows if he messes with your tapes he’s in deep shit. You arrive at the usual dingy motel at around midnight.

“Hey, sleepy head, we’re here.” Az is careful not to startle you, slightly shaking your arm with a scarred hand to rouse you from sleep without setting off your hunter instincts. “I’m awake.” You mumble but don’t move to get out of the truck. “I’ll go get us a room, while you wake up.” A hum is the only response he gets.

When he returns he sees you unloading the truck with a pep in your step. “We’re in 9.” Once you’ve settled in, it dawns on you that you took a six hour nap on the ride here. There’s no way you’ll be able to fall asleep now. “Az, you want something to eat?” He yawns “no thanks, I’m going to turn in for the night.”

“Well I’m not tired. I’ll grab a bite at that bar across the street and come back.” You put on your jacket and make the short walk to the hole in the wall establishment that always seems to accompany the motels you frequent. “One beer and a burger, please.” It 's quiet. You assume that it’s because it’s Tuesday. Until you overhear the conversation from two guys at the bar. “Six people went missing and all of them were last seen here, Sammy, something’s up.”

“I know, Dean, but we’ve been here a week and no one can point us in the right direction. Maybe they left.” Hunters, and by the sounds of it, they are on the same case. The bartender sets a pint in front of you, when it’s in your hand you walk over. “Are you two looking for a vampire nest?” They seem to have a language of their own, exchanging a few glances before the one with blondish hair says “depends, who’s asking?”

“Y/n, my partner and I just got into town after hearing about six disappearances. Looks like you two got a head start.” You sit with them in a shadowy corner of the bar as they tell you about the roadblocks they’ve encountered. “Most of them came here without telling anybody they knew, they weren’t regulars.” The taller one with brown hair finishes.

“So they were lured.” They nod. “It’s been quiet since we got here.” You finish the burger and wipe your fingers with the thinnest napkin you’ve ever seen. “They got six people in two weeks, that’s enough blood to keep a nest alive for a month.” But something’s off and you can tell they feel it too. “What were your names again?”

“I’m Sam.” “I’m Dean.” No way.

“Winchester?” They nod.

“That’s crazy! I knew your father! It’s sort of how I got started in all of this actually-” you stop yourself, John is dead now and these were his sons “I’m sorry for your loss, he helped a lot of people.” Az is going to freak when you tell him. Dean swigs his beer and says “yeah well, that’s what happens when you make deals with devils.”

It’s tense for a bit while you finish your beer “well, if you don’t mind it, my partner and I could help on the case. Four machetes are better than two. We’re staying right across the street. Room 9. See ya, boys.”

The next morning you tell Azriel about your encounter. “I’m telling you Az, they seem nice enough. If we team up it will be safer.” He’s unsure, always wary of strangers. “I don’t know, y/n-” just then, a knock at the door. You check the peephole before opening it. “Hi guys, this is my partner Azriel. Az, this is Sam and that's Dean.” The brothers brought coffee, by the looks of it it’s from the prehistoric machine in the lobby. “We talked about it and we agreed, working together will speed things along.”

“Az?” He sighs. “Fine.”

“He’s chipper,” Dean quips. “He’s not a morning person,” you quickly defend. You were the only one allowed to comment on his crankiness.

After a day of following dead ends, you sit with Dean at the same bar. Sam and Az are still trying to find something in the archives. “So what’s the deal with you and your partner?”

“Why? Are you interested?” He chuckles. “Just curious, your room had two beds. Are you two not involved?” Maybe it was the whisky, but you said “not romantically.”

“So he won’t be upset if I buy you another drink with the intention of getting in your pants?” You roll your eyes. “Your reputation precedes you, Winchester.”

“My reputation as a hunter or a ladies’ man?”

“Your reputation as a shameless flirt.” He leans closer to you “is it working?” You laugh and push him off. “No.”

“So there is something between you and Azriel. I bet he’s clueless. I’ve seen it time and again.” You keep nursing your glass. “I wouldn’t say he’s clueless. But you know how this job is. One second you’re here and the next… I think we both agree that it’s better if we don’t cross that line with each other.”

“But you could cross that line with me.” He winks. “No, Dean. I don’t think I could.”

He straightens away from you and sips his beer. “You said you met my dad?”

“Oh, yes. It was years ago, I was a freshman in college and a vengeful spirit was wreaking havoc on the campus. John showed up right before the son of a bitch gutted me. After that it was hard to go back to classes, you know?”

“And how did you meet Azriel?”

“Az and I met in a bar like this one, he had been hunting with his friends for a while and I hustled them for gas money.”

“You play pool?” You shake your head and try to keep a straight face as you say “I play fools, Dean.”

When Azriel and Sam returned, he did not like what he saw. In truth, he was glad to see you were having fun but he hated seeing you having fun with someone else. It's not like he could complain. You both refused to cross that line. Sleeping next to each other every night, on different beds was not the whirlwind romance he wanted to give you. It wasn’t the life you deserved. But he stuck by your side because everytime he wanted to slow down, to stop, maybe go back to school, you refused. “There are monsters, Az and we save people. I can’t go back to sitting in a classroom only to end up working in an office.” He wanted domesticity. He wanted a routine. He wanted a lawn to mow and to barbecue on weekends. But more than that he wanted you.

“She’s a keeper, Az.” Dean joked as you sunk the last ball in the socket. Azriel clenched his jaw, not liking the familiarity with which Dean nudged your shoulder. It had only been a day since you met and you were acting like you’d known each other for years.

“You don’t have to sleep here if you don’t want to.” Your face scrunches in confusion at his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure you'd rather be with Dean right now.”

“Azriel, don't be like that.” He shrugs “just saying, you two were making eyes at each other all day.”

“We were not.” He doesn’t say anything else but there’s a tension that lingers. “I hate when you do this.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re picking a fight. You know I would never be with anyone else.”

“You could.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Y/n-”

“I know Az, “the life’s too dangerous,” “we’d be more vulnerable,” “it just gives the bad guys ammunition.” I know the whole song and dance of why we can’t… I get it. But it makes me feel stupid when I could be out with someone who actually shows interest in me but I stay with you.”

“I’m not holding you hostage, you can go if you want.”

“You’re an idiot.” With a huff you storm out of the room. Not entirely sure where you’re going, you wander around the motel grounds for a while. Knocking on Dean’s door was an option, but you wanted to be alone. He was infuriating. Azriel knows which buttons to push and when. He does this every so often, picks a fight to create iciness between you. It makes temptation easier if you’re too mad at each other to give in, you suppose.

It's past midnight, and the lights in room 9 are off. In your haste you forgot a key. You go to the lobby and are surprised to see an attendant. “Hi, I locked myself out of my room and my partner is asleep. Do you have a spare key by any chance?”

“Of course, name and room number?”

A click sounds from behind and you turn to see a man, turning the Open sign to Closed. His neck is covered in scruff and bite marks. You look back at the attendant. The ledger, that weighs at least ten pounds, slams across your face.

You wake up tied up and breathless in a windowless room. Six bloodied bodies surrounding you.

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wolfiesmoon · 7 months

Text

Binding the book

duke!gojo x fem!reader

This is in a manhwa au?? I don't want to call it a royalty au since neither of you are royalty but its essentially your average manhwa plot

I've decided to write something completely unrelated to the canon plot of jjk since I'm still in the process of watching the anime lmaooo

i feel overwhelmed by this anime tbh someone save me , i might just skip to the second season since i've already seen the first one back when it first came out but lowkey forgor everything😵

He's talking to her with that smile on his face again. You really shouldn't be bothered by this anyway, so why do you keep staring? You know how this story ends for you anyways.

You quickly turned around, not wanting to invade upon Satoru's buisness any further. You weren't outright bothering him, but you have a feeling he wouldn't enjoy you staring at him from behind the corner like some stalker. Not when he has better things to be looking at.

You've been married to Gojo Satoru for exactly 3 months now. It was a marriage born of neccessity, pure interest to stop marriage pressure from your families. Atleast on his side, it was. He made that clear during the marriage proposal.

"Well, I'm mostly just doing this so mom stops nagging me about finding a wife already. I'm sure the same applies to you."

Those words have been replaying in your head for a while now. You've known Satoru only for about a year at that point, and even then it was mostly through social events you attended that he also happened to be attending.

So needless to say, it was simulaneously a complete surprise and completely expected when he suddenly gave your family a surprise visit to offer his hand in marriage.

You knew there was zero romantic feelings involved from the very beginning, so you know you shouldn't be surprised if Satoru wants to leave you for Lady Ichikawa, the girl he talks to almost every day. But your heart can't help but clench at the sight, and you wish Satoru could...

Nevermind.

You should be attending to your duties anyways.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sighed, practically collapsing on your bed. Finance is not fun, to say the least. Being the Lady of the house is a suprisingly tiring job, and definitely gives you more respect for your mother.

The servants had already helped you change into your night gown, and you were perfectly ready to hit the hay right now.

As the servant put out the lights in the chandelier, you thought about Satoru again. The guy is an annoyingly persistent thought in the back of your head, that's for sure.

You haven't even talked in a week.

Sure, the two of you tend to get busy, but this essentially just proves to you what kind of marriage this is. If he did care about you, he would've checked up on you atleast once, wouldn't he..? You don't have a right to complain about it anyways, since you were the one who agreed to the marriage in the end. You should be grateful you even had a say in it.

As the servant closed the door behind you, you clutched the pillow in your hand. Maybe if you keep being useful, he won't discard you. You've only been thinking of yourself up until now. You just now realise that if he leaves you for Lady Ichikawa, you'll lose your family face.

This is shaping up to be a nightmare.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door. "Oiiii, can I come iiiin?"

Well, speak of the devil. You would recognise that voice anywhere. "Sure, come in." you said so, but did you want to face him right now? You felt conflicted, both really happy and really nervous.

As the door opened, you turned your head, his silhouette, illuminated by the lights in the doorway coming into view. "Man, it's dark in here. You're going to sleep so early?" he said casually as he turned on the oil lamp on your table.

You only nodded in response, looking at him with half wonder half suspicion. Why is he paying you a visit all of a sudden? "What..? Can't a husband visit his wife?" Satoru furrowed his brows, noticing your dimmly lit expression and sitting down on the edge of your bed.

"I'm happy you're here." You assured him. And you truly were.

"Right, of course you are." Satoru smirked boldly at you, but somehow, you could tell that he was relieved to hear it. He looked in front of him.

"I got you this." he said a little more quietly, handing you a book as you sat up in bed. But it wasn't just any book. "No way... how did you even get your hands on this?!" you blinked multiple times in the dim light, making sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

When you realised how loud you just were, you quickly covered your mouth, and Satoru laughed at you for a bit before saying "I have my ways."

"That... doesn't answer the question. How much did this even cost?"

"...You shouldn't worry so much."

That idiot... You took another look at the book in your lap, the rare book you were trying to get your hands on for 3 years at this point. You can't help but wonder if the emergency finance work you had to do today has something to do with this.

"...Why?" you looked back up at him.

"Why what?" he flashed his usual smile at you, his white lashes fluttering as he gazed at you. This all seems... odd.

"Why did you get this for me? Why would you spend so much money on me? How did you even know I wanted this? What are you trying to do... here..." your last question died off as you saw his expression slowly shift to one of concern.

"You're... my wife? And I happen to know you want this? What kind of questions even are those, seriously." he scoffed, shaking his head.

"But... Lady Ichikawa..." why would he spend money on you when he could be putting it towards his future with Lady Ichikawa? Wait, why did you even start assuming that he'll leave you any minute to begin with? Gosh...

"Oh, her? Wait... are you jealous?" he raised his eyebrows playfully, leaning back. "Not really, I just thought that you... like her more than me." it felt strange finally admitting this to him.

"Ehhh.... She's just a friend, ya know. And I actually mean it. Why would I like her more?" Satoru looked as unaffected as ever, smiling at you. But beneath that nonchalant attitude and those shining blue eyes of his, you could feel confusion, doubt, and something else.

"You said in your proposal t-that... So I thought Lady Ichikawa..." all the turmoil that had been building up inside you for the last three months finally let loose, with you trying your best to speak through your tears. Isn't this pathetic?

"Shhh, I know what I said back then. But now that I actually have you, I dunno anymore. I wanna try out this whole love thing." Satoru moved up on the bed, moving over to your side and gently petting your head.

"In other words, you can stop crying now. Because I'm not letting you go anytime soon."

i dont like this one all that much I'll be real, but then again when do I ever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this is actually based on a very specific manga plot, if you get it right I'll give you a gold star ⭐

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk au #female reader #fem reader #x female reader

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crazyk-imagine · 9 months

Text

Life Away from Home

Pairing: Dalton Lamber x Best friend!reader

Characters: Dalton Lamber, Best Friend!reader, Chris Winslow, Josh Lambert, Renai Lambert

Warnings: Fluff, angst due to demons, add on to the movie, reader and Dalton being cute, I've literally only seen this movie once and it's consumed me too much and I had to write this, the day I watched it, this idea came to mind, the possessed Dalton scene is what got me hooked on writing this, Josh and Renai are trying to make it work maybe not in a romantic way or maybe they are

Word Count: 4,294

A/N: Holy shit, I was not expecting this to be over 4,000 words.

I'm getting ready for spooky season

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Jesus, Dalton. When did you get so much shit?" You ask, setting down another box beside the one his dad set down on his bed.

"When did you complain so much?"

You narrow your eyes to him before your lips stretch into a smile as he does the same. "Touche."

Josh glances between the two of you, seeing him and Renai when they first met.

"I'm gonna leave you two alone before our first week of hell starts."

Dalton tries to stop you and fails.

You're barely out of the room for five minutes when you get a phone call from him. "What happened?"

"The usual."

A heavy sigh slips past your lips, "Dally."

He shakes his head. “Can you just- can you come back up here?”

“I’m on my way, loser.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“But it got you to crack a smile.” He denies it with the widest smile on his face before hanging up.

“Is that you’re girlfriend?” He turns to face his soon to be ex-roommate, Chris. “No.”

She shrugs. “Maybe this is the year you do something about your crush.”

It was an okay start to this new part of your guy's life. Meeting Chris made things more fun, although Dalton would definitely disagree.

Ever since the school year started (two days ago) and Chris told you her schedule, you two hang out in her dorm for a bit while you wait for Dalton to finish up with his art class.

She likes you and definitely understands why he likes you so much.

Her little dance stops when knocking from the other side interrupts her and startles you.

Ever since you got here, things have been getting weird for Dalton which, as much as you don’t want to admit it, it scares you.

She opens the door, peeking through the crack to find the one person that makes your eyes shine. She smiles at you with the mouthpiece to her most prized possession (and the name is something you will never remember). "See? It's just your Dally man."

You narrow your eyes to her. "Shut up."

He glances between the two of you before taking a seat near you.

"Are you ready for my latest rendition of "don't go breaking my heart" with my trusty little sidekick?"

You roll your eyes and lean closer to him, "say no."

He shakes his head.

You smile and lean closer to him, bringing him some comfort after the night he's had. You know he won’t talk about it; you asked him after the first night but knowing he’s just going to keep it to himself until he can’t any longer, the least you can do is make him smile… and hold him.

Everything started spiraling worse after going to that stupid frat party.

You knew he didn’t want to go to it and that’s why you tried to get Chris to change her mind but there’s no stopping that girl when she’s on a mission.

“What if we just-”

She shakes her head, “no.”

You fall back onto Dalton’s bed, turning to face him as he works at his desk. “I tried. I’m sorry.” You don’t think he heard you, but you return your attention to Chris as babbles on about how the party is just what we need.

And it only spiraled into something worse and worse from there.

He hasn’t stopped working on that painting. Every time he returns to his room, there he is in that chair, paintbrush in hand.

“Dalton?” You call out to him.

His body is slumped, you don’t know how long it was that he stopped working on his art, but it couldn’t have been more than five minutes ago.

“Dally?” You push yourself off the bed and are about to place a hand on his shoulder, thinking if you gently shake him, it’ll wake him but a voice in the back of your head tells you not to. You pace back and forth behind him, “Okay, Dalton. One this is not funny. And two, I need you to wake up.”

You lift your hand up, biting the skin on the sides of your thumbs (something you haven’t done since you were a kid).

It’s too late for you to call Chris, it’s been dark for hours, but you can’t sleep knowing Dalton can’t sleep because the guilt of knowing you can sleep and he can’t, well, it'll make you feel like an asshole. And if he can’t sleep, then you shouldn’t.

But he tells you to and not to worry about him, which makes it really hard because how can you not worry about him.

You open your eyes and are startled as the door to his dorm shuts. “Dalton?”

He pushes himself out of the chair, shaking you. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? What the hell happened to you? You freaked me out. You were asleep one second and then-”

“I was up in Chris’ dorm.”

You blink once. “Huh?”

“I was- I just- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I do. You’re on some sort of drug right now and you need to tell me where your stash is so I can either join you or flush them.”

“What?” He furrows his brows, “I’m not on- I don’t even know what’s going on. I just- all I know is that-“

A knock on the door causes you to leap into his arms.

You two take a step towards the door with his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“I just woke up because of this,” Chris lifts up her favorite annoying thing.

You start to tear up but don’t know why. “I- oh my god.” You wipe your cheeks as the two talk.

They glance over at you, wondering if you were paying attention. They’re both alarmed at the sight of you crying.

You wave them off. “I’m fine.”

That was just the beginning of something bad coming your way.

You and Chris text each other periodically throughout the next few days, mainly her checking on you and you asking her what she’d found out regarding Dalton’s “condition”.

From her end, he needs sleep to which you completely agree with, but you also need to take care of yourself.

She doesn’t want anything to happen to you, you’re good for him and an amazing friend which is why it was exceedingly scary with you lying in front of her, looking as though you were dead.

She still doesn’t even know what happened even though she knows it has something to do with the spiritual world Dalton’s got himself mixed up in.

Before returning to his body, he sees the demon that's been haunting him for a little less than half his life (even if he doesn’t remember it now) hovering over your body.

You don’t know what happened during that time but you the only colors that come to mind whenever you think of it are red and black (something you’ve never told Dalton).

You moved into his dorm basically permanent after that night, followed by almost hourly texts from a certain upstairs dorm neighbor.

It’s been getting harder and harder to get Dalton to sleep when you can’t even do it yourself.

He sits at his desk and continues working on the painting that seems to be haunting him, something that makes you wish you could you more helpful to him but are unable to.

With everything that’s going on your kind of happy about the few classes you chose to take this year because napping throughout the day isn’t the most ideal thing for a normal college student, but it’s the only way you can keep up with Dalton. “You tired yet?”

“You asked me five minutes ago,” he mumbles, not fully taking his eyes off the painting.

“Fine. New question, have you talked to your mom or dad yet?”

“Why would I talk to them?”

“Uh, I don’t know because you’re going through astral projection moments without any proper or well-known guidance. Oh, and also your friend almost died because of some black and red thing.”

He pauses, his hand stills before he hurriedly tosses the paint brush onto the desk. “You saw it?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” you sigh.

“You are.”

“Maybe you’re just annoying.”

“I’m annoyed with a purpose. What- I mean, did you-”

“No, I just,” you throw the hood of his hoodie over your head.

“I think… maybe it’s from when you were in your coma.”

“Did you remember something?” He leans in closer.

“I just,” you glance up at him. “I feel like you should talk to your mom.”

He takes a deep breath. “No and you’re not going to win so just stop and leave it alone.”

Worst thing you could have ever done, listen to him.

You didn’t want to; you know, know you should have called her and asked her what she knows about this, but he kept assuring you that he’s got this and would ask his brother for information and that could only do so much.

Chris texted you earlier, asking if you could help her with one of her classes because you both have the same teacher, but you have the morning class, and she has the afternoon.

You decided that if he didn’t want help, he wasn’t going to get it.

The- “whole tough love routine, really?”

You furrow your brows, feeling offended and self conscious. “What?”

“Don’t what me. When has that routine ever helped someone?” She shrugs, “no, seriously. Tell me.”

You mimic her and return back to helping her study with the midterm getting closer and closer (Chris’ words, not yours).

“She finally gets it,” you say, happy to know you could help her where you could.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

She nods, stuffing her notebook back into her bag. “Yeah, why wouldn’t he?”

You bit the skin on the sides of your thumb, “I have a bad feeling.”

She glances back at you. “How bad?”

“I’m slowly getting more nauseous the longer I sit here.”

“Are you sure? I mean, what if you just-”

“Chris.”

She sighs, “fine. I’ll go check on your boyfriend and when I come back, telling you he’s doing just fine.”

The door slams open as she searches for something, mumbling to herself. After a few minutes, she’s found what she was looking for and turns around. She stares at you, her arms full of various lights in different shapes and sizes. "Are you coming with me or not?"

You grimace. This is too much for either of you to handle on your own. "Chris,” you hold her arm in place, “I have a bad feeling about this."

She nods; she gets it, but she also knows neither of you can leave him alone. "So do I but we can't leave him alone."

You hesitate.

“You can’t leave him alone.”

You nod, gulping down the saliva that built up in your mouth. "Okay."

You two practically run to Dalton's room.

You stand in the doorway and know something's not right but follow Chris, not feeling comfortable leaving her alone in here. You two sit on his bed, you work on untangling the lights while she tries to get them on.

She plugs it in once, you’re not as nauseous but are feeling more fear.

Another light is plugged in, and you pull your feet up from the floor. A third one and it’s suddenly colder?

"I'm not afraid of the dark anymore."

You furrow your brows, pausing your movements. "What?" A chill runs down your spine. "Chris, are you done yet?" You gulp and hurry to help Chris, knowing the dark is a bad place to be in, especially now.

She runs around the room, putting the lights in place leaving you to plug them in, wanting to light up the room. Her feet padding across the floor worry you. "Almost." She shouts, "yes!" Her side is lit.

You barely glance over at him and know what's wrong, it makes you even more nauseous; you can almost feel the bile creeping up your throat.

It feels like it’s here, the pressure tightens on your throat.

"Dalton?" She calls out for him, watching his body move as he stands in the corner.

"Chris, don't get near him." You pull her back when his head turns towards you. "It's here." You begin blinking away the tears that blur your vision.

"No," she refuses to believe it. "Dalton? What's going on there? This isn't normal. It's really weird seeing you in the dark."

You want to cry. "Stop talking."

It flings her to the side.

"Oh god," you whimper.

It turns its attention onto you as his body lets out a low growl.

"Chris, run."

She says the same to you when she sees how close Dalton's body has gotten to you.

You turn back to him and focus on his hands wrapping a piece of rope around his hands. "Where did that come from?" Tonight’s the night you're going to die. You shake your head and run towards the door. You shake to doorknob as tears fall down your cheeks. "Let me out. Let me out."

He gains control, the rope falls from his hands as he calls out for you.

You turn around and see the real him before he loses control.

You and Chris catch him before he can fall.

“You hold him and anchor him while I work on the lights.”

You can’t object as she’s already run off.

She screams as a face appears in front of her, emerging out from the depths of the darkness under the bed.

You pull her back. “Get behind me.”

She doesn’t have enough time to argue and does as she’s told.

You're stuck between the two, holding Dalton and keeping him close to you as she huddles further into you, all while fighting the spirits crawling on top of him and you.

He opens his eyes and wakes from his internal battle, the light squeeze to your hand lets you know he's here. He's with you as he forces the spirits to disappear.

You help him up, knowing he's trying to move.

Dalton starts painting with as much paint as he can with his one paintbrush.

The canvas is black.

"Is it over?" She dares to ask.

You tear up, covering your mouth to hide the sobs that want to escape you.

He turns around, barely giving himself a second to take in everything that's happened as he pulls you closer to him.

“I need to call my mom,” he grabs the phone and immediately dials his mom.

“Is everyone okay?” Chris asks, knowing you can’t mutter a word right now and how close you are because you two pretty much call the Lambert's your family.

“Yeah, he’s- he’s okay. He’s back.”

“He wasn’t before?”

You lift your head off him. ��He stayed behind?”

He nods. “But he’s back now and it’s gone.”

You gulp, staring into his eyes; silently thanking all and any god that they’re not yellow.

You didn’t realize you’re crying until he wipes your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and sniffle; he pulls you closer to hug you; needing to feel your comforting warmth… plus Chris. “Please tell me it’s over.”

“It’s done,” Dalton informs the two of you with a stern voice.

"You’re never going to do that again. I can't lose you."

He nuzzles his nose into your head, breathing in your scent.

“I think it’s time we go home for our early semester break.”

“I,” he hesitates, “I think that’s a good idea.”

After saying bye to Chris and promising to text when you two actually leave campus and when we make it to the Lambert household, you finally make it to his dad’s car.

Josh smiles at the sight of you two. “Hey.”

Dalton glances away, finding making eye contact with the man to be too much. “Hey.”

His dad turns to you, “hey.”

“Hi,” you give him a small smile. “Let’s put the stuff in the car and get this long ass drive over with?”

That earns a chuckle and breaks the silence between the two.

You’re about to walk towards the back of the car when he stops in front of you. “What?”

“I can put your stuff in the back.”

You huff, “Dalton. No, just let-”

“Me put it away, you get settled into the car. I’ll be there in a second.”

You roll your eyes, “fine. I’ll just get started on the second season of-”

“Don’t you dare.”

You open the car door with a small smile on your face.

Josh turns to his son, not yet opening the trunk so you can’t hear their conversation (he hopes). “So?”

“What?”

His dad smiles and uses his head to gesture in your general direction. “Have you asked her?”

The look on his son’s face tells him all that he needs to know (and embarrass him). “Are you two together? Going steady? Netflix and chilling as you young kids call it.” He lightly pats the side of his arm, “come on, you can tell me… so I can tell your mother.”

The young man avoids all eye contact and stares at the ground, the warmth in his cheeks is not something he wanted to experience now, before they even leave campus. “No, I- with everything that happened, I didn’t want it to seem like I’m just asking her out to do it. You know, I- I want it to mean something.”

The corner of Josh’s mouth twitches, reminding him of his young self. “I know exactly what you mean and that’s why I know if you do it, she won’t think of it that way.”

Dalton slowly lifts his head. “How do you know that?”

“She’s been by your side ever since the first time. No, even longer than that but especially during these times and if you don’t believe me then, you don’t know why you invited her to come with you.”

“What?”

“Put the bags in the trunk,” Josh tells him as he opens it. He sees the way his son stares at you, he did the same thing with his ex-wife. He just wishes he was as strong as the two of you and knows if he was, then maybe he and Renai would still be together.

He takes a deep breath. ‘This is what Dr. Rofuss was talking about.’ “You can sit in the back if you want, I won’t be offended.”

“She’ll make me sit there if I don’t on my own.”

His dad chuckles as he closes the trunk. “Alright then, make your choice, stud.”

“Stud?” He mutters as he walks around the car.

You shake your head and point to the front seat.

Josh silently laughs to himself when he watches the two of you two. “Show tunes?”

You give the older man a gentle smile. “Sure.”

Renai walks out and hugs her baby boy- he groans, “mom.”

“You’ll always be my baby no matter what age you are.”

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement.

Josh leans down and whispers, “you’re next.”

You quickly recover and shake your head. “No.”

He starts taking your guys bags into the house.

She stares at him for a few seconds before letting him go, turning to face you. She pulls you in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She doesn’t answer you.

You walk into the house, waiting to find one or both of his siblings but find neither. “Is it just us plus your parents right now?”

He shrugs, “I guess.”

“Which room am I staying in?”

He turns around and stares at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“We’re at your parents' house and I don’t think they’d approve of us, a young man and a young woman sleeping in the same room.”

“We did it at school, what’s different now?”

“We’re under the same roof.”

He grabs the bags at the end of the stairs and starts walking up. “It’s fine.”

You follow him. “I don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence on you or something.”

“She won’t, stop worrying about it.”

“Dal-”

He drops the bags and pulls you closer, cupping your cheeks. “Stop it, she would never think that. If anything,” the corner of his lips twitch. “She’d think it was me.”

You stare into his eyes, no thoughts coming to mind.

He’s waiting for you to respond but you don’t, and he doesn’t know what to do.

The creaking of the bottom stairs startles you and you pull away. “I’m going to the kitchen.”

His dad raises a brow when he finds his oldest staring at the floor with rosy, red cheeks.

Dinner was a little awkward at first, but you managed to make it through without raising too much suspicion from Josh and Renai (or at least, you hope that’s the case).

You run upstairs after helping his mom with the dishes (Dalton, sat at the table drawing).

She nudges your side, “you can go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’m sure you’ll want to get as much sleep as you can.”

You shrug, “it’s okay. I can st-”

“Nope, upstairs you go.”

“But-”

“Go,” she says, offering a kind smile.

You grab the dish towel and dry off your hands before glancing over at him, suddenly remembering the way he was staring at you, and exit.

You walk back out of the bathroom to grab your toothbrush so you can relax in bed, only to find someone else also brushing his teeth. “Uh- sorry- I’ll just-”

He shakes his head and spits. “It’s fine. I’m almost done.”

You know how when you’re trying to avoid making eye contact with someone and it doesn’t work?

He finishes and puts his toothbrush in its holder before walking away, only to lean against the doorway. “What’s going on with you?”

You shake your head.

“Ever since earlier-”

You finish in time to cover his mouth. “Shut up. I don’t want your parents finding out.”

He lowers your hand. “Why? It’s not like we had sex or anything.”

You avoid making eye contact, the heat in your cheeks does nothing to help you as you walk into his room. “I think I should sleep in the guest room.”

“Wait, what? Why?” He stands in front of you, stopping you from walking out. “Wh- did it,” he takes a deep breath. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

You clench your jaw, unsure of how to tell him the true reason. “I-”

“If it did, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” He studies your fidgeting. “Did you,” the corner of his lips curved upwards. “Did you like it?”

“No.”

“You answered that too quickly. You did.” He chuckles, taking a step forward. “You can tell me to stop.”

You open your mouth to respond when he cups your cheeks and pulls you closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

You furrow your brows. “I didn’t leave?”

“Ever since the whole thing happened, I just- I’m happy you’re here with me.”

You glance from one eye to the other and slide your hands up to his neck, pulling him closer, into a crushingly comforting hug.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders and waist, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

You play with his hair as you two stand a few feet from the open doorway.

He removes his arms from you, and you think he’s done and start to loosen your grip on him until you hold onto him for dear life. “What are you doing?!” You ask, tightening your legs around his waist.

He doesn’t reply as he sets you down on his bed.

You get the hint and lay down, opening your arms (a spot reserved for him). You play with his hair some more. “Are you ever going to get a haircut?”

“Why?” He angles his head so he can look at you.

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that. I do, I was just wondering.” His eyes twinkle and he can’t find it in him to look away. “Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

“Can… I kiss you?”

You stare at him with a confused expression as your brain works on processing what he’s asked. “You want to kiss me… like as a friend?”

“What friend kisses another friend?”

“You know how some families or- or like celebrities kiss each other on the lips and it's not romantic, that’s- that’s what I’m thinking of.”

He leans on one elbow, hovering over you as his hand pushes the few stands of your hair behind your ear. “I definitely don’t mean it in a friendly way.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Chris thought we were together.”

“When did she say that?”

“Our first day.”

“Oh.”

“I hated that I had to say no.”

You take a leap and hope that he wasn’t playing a mean, mean joke on you.

Renai and Josh have been up since earlier this morning, seeing as it almost- “Josh, it’s almost ten o’clock. I think we should go at least check on them.” She raises her shoulder, keeping her phone tucked in the crook of her neck as she prepares her cup of coffee.

“They’re enjoying their first break; they’re not going to be awake right now.”

“Yeah well… they should be otherwise they’re not going to get breakfast.”

“Wow.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

The door slowly creaks open as she peeks her head in only to find the two of you still asleep, cuddling in a “less than friendly” way.

She shakes her head, knowing her ex-husband's right.

#insidious #insidious x reader #insidious the red door #insidious imagine #insidious imagines #insidious fanfic #insidious fanfiction #insidious x you #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert fanfic #dalton lambert fanfiction #dalton lambert x you #dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert x female reader

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buckets-and-trees · 2 months

Note

Hi Aspen, Cedar trees has been seeping into my mind lately (not that I’m complaining, but I’m blaming ovulation). Can I ask what a day in the life looks like for our dear couple? Do they ever run into each other doing their own independent tasks in town? Does reader ever watch Steve with his guards and become enamored with seeing him train/in charge?

Nonnie, I adore this ask!

A day in the life is a pretty odd juxtaposition between routine and a "plot of the week" kind of life. Running into him, depends on the day - but of course you love him more and more. As king, for Steve there are far more out of the ordinary things that crop into his days, whereas for you there are routines, ceremonial bits, and things that only change more based on the season, especially the first year of your marriage.

However, once the two of you came to the initial understanding that your marriage was more than just a political alliance between kingdoms with Steve acquiring someone to be his queen, Steve made some changes pretty swiftly to daily protocols so the two of you could grow together as a couple.

Title: A Shift in the Morning Routine Characters/Pairings: King!Steve x Queen!Reader Word Count: 1100

Content/Warnings: established relationship, reference to morning sex

Additional Notes: I've got so many head cannons that I want to build into more moments with the Cedar Trees AU, (including 2-3 more asks from @stargazingfangirl18 and @gifsbysimplysonia) but here is at least one.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Not everything changes overnight, you are still new to the kingdom, your role as queen, and growing in familiarity with the people, the land, and your responsibilities, but the new intimacy of a deeper connection and commitment that you and Steve pledged to each other unlocks a wholly different sense of security that trickles steadily into your bloodstream in a way that make the days warmer, brighter, and bearing the duties you have becomes more natural. They were not impossible before, nor difficult, you had been raised and prepared since birth to be ready to become someone’s queen, but the sense of belonging that breathed now between you and your husband – that you were husband and wife – shifted things fundamentally.

But there are things that do change specifically in your patterns and behaviors. The first thing to change is having breakfast brought in for you both any night the king sleeps in your chambers, and because there is so much protocol and support from palace staff around you, the palace notices quickly that it seems that the king is spending every night with you. There are a few - a very few - who raise an eyebrow at this behavior. Those few seem to think that surely if the king has taken such a liking to his new queen, that's all well and good, but he is the king, why not invite you to his quarters? But no one dares question the king, and much of the palace see his growing devotion to you as only another sign of his very good and kind heart, his capacity to care only showing consistently now in another form.

The servants do know not to bring breakfast until the two of you ring for it though.

Except for unexpected emergencies, the two of you are not to be disturbed until the king has had time with his queen and the two of you are in a state of decency, donning your bedclothes or robes as appropriate.

After a few weeks of this, there's a morning where the king's private secretary is getting antsy while he waits to give the king his first briefing of the day, and Lord Barnes diplomatically intervenes.

"My King," Bucky bows his head in deference that appropriately reflects his respect for Steve's position as king and their tie as friends since schoolchildren before Steve inherited any title. "Coulson doesn't want to disturb you, but he is growing more concerned we will fall behind on your majesty's royal itinerary if he cannot brief you soon ahead of this morning's audiences with the delegations from Vanaheim and Malibu."

The soft sigh Steve lets out is short and you're certain only you can hear, though you know Bucky has seen the affect his arrival and announcement have had as his face reflects warmth, a bit of mirth, but also the duty and responsibility to keep his friend in line with his responsibilities as right hand.

The two of you had lingered much longer in bed that morning, for the pleasure of both of you (twice for you, the second time with Steve). You reach for his hand where it was resting on the corner of the table, slipping your fingers into his palm and brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “I would be a poor queen if I kept you here any longer then.”

Now Steve actually huffs. “You are not keeping me, I choose to breakfast with my wife, and I am not yet finished taking my nourishment for the day.”

You tilt your head and grin. “A kingdom cannot wait on their king all morning.”

“If I may,” Bucky interjects, and you both turn your attention to him, “Coulson could brief you as easily here as anywhere else.”

Steve nods and a wide smile spreads over his handsome face. “Bring him in, Buck.”

Your heart warms and flutters, the two of you holding each other’s gaze for another moment, and he reaches for more bread.

When Lord Barnes returns with Coulson behind him, Coulson stands with only a little apprehension at the end of the table, but Bucky takes a seat across from you, to the right of the king, and begins to fill a plate of his own with breakfast.

“Your majesties,” Coulson addresses with a bow.

“Coulson,” Steve nods.

“Shall I start with the reports from the borders of the kingdom?”

“Are updates in regard to the delegations not more important than the border reports?” Steve questions, his brow furrowing.

It was fleeting, but you see the slightest of a glance to you and your presence, and your stomach hardens with guilt.

Coulson takes a breath to respond, but Steve holds up a hand. “I see. The queen’s insight may be valuable as we hear what you have to say as she is no stranger to royal politics.”

That hardening melts away at his words.

“Indeed, she may often prove to be invaluable in our efforts here in the coming days but as we move forward, as well, given that there are parts a queen may play that are wholly unavailable to a king.”

Bucky does not look up, but you see a relaxed grin on his face, and as you turn to gage Coulson’s reaction, you see his own previous apprehension had dissolved. “I would agree, your majesty.”

“Moving forward, if the queen should not mind, I would like you to deliver the morning briefing to us both while we breakfast. Come in straight away with the day’s food, Coulson.”

Steve squeezes your hand. “Do you object?”

A show of trust, of valuing your opinion, of seeing you as an asset as his queen – it is the furthest thing from your mind to object. “I serve this kingdom without reservation, my king.”

“One could not ask for a more dutiful or beautiful queen at my side.”

Those blue eyes bore into yours.

You know he means those words.

The full silence in the room only hits you when Lord Barnes clears his throat.

“Start with Vanaheim, Coulson, I meet with them first, correct?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Over the weeks that turned into months and years, you grew to like Coulson very much, and after that first day when Steve stated his trust in you, Coulson never showed any hesitancy in you ever again, and, in fact, became one of your most staunch champions in the kingdom.

READ THE NEXT PART: WINTER SOLSTICE read more of the Cedar Trees AU

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #royal au #cedar trees au #female reader #aspen wrote something #askpen #aspen's spring surprise slumber party

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shinneth · 5 months

Text

My souring sentiments on Sailor Moon's manga

It'll be a surprise to no one who knows me even remotely that Sailor Moon was my everything back in my childhood. From the age of 9, I was utterly obsessed with it.

That was just a couple of years shy of 30 years ago.

Since then, I've often revisited the series. I watched the entirety of the Viz dub of the classic anime; all 200 episodes.

And I loved it all the same, if not more so than before. Because now I have context for why exactly the anime was the way it was, including its gradual diversion from the manga source material. And I respect the hell out of the staff who poured their life into this work, while concurrently running with the manga and doing whatever it could to not completely outpace it in the narrative.

Are there a lot of fillers in the OG anime? Yes. Too many? Well, not so from a functional standpoint (this show had to run weekly for 5 years), but there are definitely some fillers you could skip and miss nothing in doing so.

But a story like Sailor Moon honestly needed some breathing room in order to properly flesh out the cast.

Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, the live-action reimagining of the show, was phenomenal back then (despite looking low-budget even by 2003 standards), and having re-watched the whole series recently, I can safely say PGSM more than holds up and deserves way more love and respect than it gets. It's THE perfect example of reimagining the story of Sailor Moon while still respecting its roots and maintaining the soul of the franchise.

Which is exactly why I couldn't stand Sailor Moon Crystal. We knew from the off that it was supposed to be completely faithful to the manga, but one look through @crystalvsmanga will show you Crystal took shitloads of "creative liberties", and the amount of changes I could dare to call "good"? I could count them on one hand.

The animation is low-hanging fruit, because everyone and their dog knows how godawful it was for the first two story arcs. But more than that, I actually loathed the general art design. Yukie Sakou's style DID NOT closely resemble Naoko Takeuchi's. People kept saying it, but I couldn't really see it. The eyes especially are a far cry from Takeuchi's style. And Sakou's style did NOT facilitate the OTT cartoony expressions that were definitely present in Takeuchi's manga; everyone looked so goddamn soulless, like overly-expensive porcelain dolls.

My biggest gripe with Crystal was the story, of course. While a great deal came from just being from the manga (which I'll get to in a bit), the changes they made went a long way to actively make the manga's story worse. My main takeaway from Crystal S1-2 is that it took itself waaaaay too seriously.

That being said, I did like Crystal's third season a lot better BECAUSE Chiaki Kon had way more competence and held a lot more respect for Sailor Moon. Like, my god, for once it felt like there was a soul in this show! It can actually take the piss every now and then!

Some silly things kinda broke my immersion (such as the Senshi just being able to fuckin' fly and Chibi-Moon in particular was literally sky-stepping), but most of that can be blamed on the source material it was adapting. While I was fine with Crystal3, I definitely didn't feel it was anywhere near as good as Sailor Moon S. Outside of Hotaru/Sailor Saturn having more of a presence, there wasn't really much in Crystal's take on Infinity that I liked better than S.

But most of that comes down to the fact that I liked S more than manga's Infinity arc to begin with.

Which is a good segue to talk about the manga proper.

I have not yet watched Eternal or Cosmos. the movies that adapted the last two manga arcs, but it'd be redundant since I know ahead of time what they're going to be about, and so far I haven't heard about any of them deviating from the source material, so it'd be moot to talk about them even if I had watched.

When I first got my hands on the manga, which was when I was around 12-13 and thus got the crappy MiXxZine translations, I was fine enough with it. Thought it was too fast-paced and didn't care for 99% of the villains being one-and-done jobbers, but I was also reading it with my impressions of the 90's anime characters still intact. I was reading the manga like an extension of the anime, rather than the other way around.

It wasn't until many years later when I grew older, when the manga was properly translated, when I acquired the wisdom my teenaged-ass self lacked, and learned to look at the manga as a completely separate entity that I started to see the cracks in the manga's narrative.

Further rereads have left me in something of a mindfuck, as I experienced the manga the proper way. And I realized:

The more I read the manga, the more I disliked it.

The manga is lauded for having an infinitely better depiction of Mamoru, as well as his ~Miracle Romance~ with Usagi.

Objectively, the manga definitely spends lots more time giving UsaMamo attention as a couple than any other aspect of the story...

I'd say they're also more developed as individuals in the manga too, but usually the beats, uh...

... let's say they usually ring hollow, when these two (and sometimes their daughter) are the only ones who consistently get shit done across the series. Hell, on the rare occasion that the Inner Senshi weren't rendered into street pizza, Neo Queen Serenity basically told them to fuck off and let her daughter, past self, and past hubby take on motherfucking DEATH PHANTOM/NEMESIS BY THEMSELVES.

It's likely because my first exposure to Sailor Moon was via the 90s anime, which had more of a focus on friendship and comradery between Usagi and her friends than it did her romance with Mamoru. I mean, romance was DEFINITELY a prominent thing even in that iteration of the story, but that wasn't where my interest lied. I was, am currently, and always will be more interested in Usagi's galpals than I'll ever be interested in her love life.

And, well, I'm sure this qualifies as a hot take, but...

This one moment with Usagi and Mamoru in the elevator (hell, their interaction across this entire episode was great) resonated with me far more than any ultra-romantic declarations of eternal devotion that Usagi and Mamoru kept regurgitating at each other in the manga.

Granted, the manga had a FEW moments early on where their dynamic was more playful, but they were pretty much confined to the early chapters and this element of their chemistry pretty much died not long after this.

Some say 90s anime Mamoru was far too mean-spirited in his teasing of Usagi. And I mean, sure, he was kind of a douche at times, but he usually got some karmic blowback from it (I remember one time he made Usagi cry without even really meaning to, and she cried so loud in public that randos nearby were giving Mamoru the evil-eye or a scolding). But honestly, after R, Mamoru kinda became a bland, generic love interest, just as he almost always was in the manga. The only difference was that anime Mamoru was never granted powers that were literally equal to Usagi's. The manga gave him a GOLDEN FUCKING CRYSTAL.

There was that infamous break-up arc in R that, yes, was shitty in concept and execution. But if I had anything positive to say about it, it at least shook up the status quo. It didn't make him immediately fall into the bland, generic love interest he would soon become. And it gave us some of the most emotionally-charged Usagi moments in the entire anime.

Conversely, in the manga, we had THIS shit for our UsaMamo "drama":

(the former incident with Usagi literally accusing her boyfriend of falling in love with a kid, by the way, happened while MOST OF HER FRIENDS WERE KIDNAPPED BY THE ENEMY AND COULD'VE BEEN DEAD FOR ALL SHE KNEW AND YET SHE FUCKING HAD TIME FOR THIS STUPID SHIT)

Everything seemed to revolve around Usagi and Mamoru (sometimes Chibiusa too). It lowkey came off that way at times even in the 90s anime, but in the manga or Crystal? You'd be hard-pressed to find the girls engaging in their stated hobbies at most points in time, because they're usually all together and talking about their prince and princess.

Hell, even Haruka - Sailor Uranus herself - seemed much more interested in Usagi than she ever did in Michiru, her actual girlfriend.

So... am I just missing something? I've seen people say that as they grow older, they prefer the manga/Crystal to the 90s anime. But I've never seen anyone other than myself express the opposite sentiment.

But it's true - unless I completely leave my brain at the door, I have a hard time enjoying the manga for what it is. The characters I'm most interested in or attached to quickly get swept aside for the characters I have the least interest in. No more does that ring true than the Stars arc of the manga, where Naoko Takeuchi basically speedruns killing off literally the entire cast until Sailor Moon's the only one left standing. Most characters don't even get to go out in a blaze of glory or anything - it's got nothing on the finale of the 90s anime's first season in that regard. If you're lucky, you'll get a single panel where your entire existence is ripped to shreds - but sometimes you'll be killed literally off-screen!!

There's a number of questionable manga-exclusive aspects that rubbed me the wrong way as well, such as poor Sailor Pluto being assigned as a child to guard the Door of Time in complete and total solitude. While I appreciate more Silver Millennium lore that the manga provided (the anime hardly mentioned it past the first arc), it was more than a little uncomfortable knowing the OG Queen Serenity conscripted the Inner Senshi as small children to become Princess Serenity's guardians. Really casts Queen Serenity and her Moon Kingdom in a much darker light - like maybe Queen Beryl and Queen Nehelenia had a point in trying to take them down (though the manga I believe retcons all past villains as incarnations of Chaos, so that arguably removes all prior villains' agency?). Lots of little things that I didn't think twice about, but now that I look at them again, I'm wondering WTF Naoko Takeuchi was thinking.

Though I don't want to be too hard on her. Poor girl was working under stress far longer than she'd planned to (she'd intended on ending the story either by the Dark Kingdom or Black Moon arc), so it's no surprise there's a lot of clunk and clutter in the narrative.

I often wondered if Naoko Takeuchi really wanted to make Sailor Moon with a Super Sentai-esque setup in the first place. After all, her first big hit was Sailor V, which was exclusively Minako and Artemis fighting evil with Minako having her own masked love interest she ended up being at odds with and he eventually died. With a scant few secondary characters here and there.

It led to me thinking about what Sailor Moon would be like if Naoko kept the cast to a more Sailor V-like size. That, perhaps, the Sailor Moon she really wanted to make would be quite a different beast from how we know it to be today.

So this lengthy diatribe about my personal conflicts with my waning fondness for the manga versus my strengthened love for the OG anime and live-action show was actually a preamble to a bizarre AU I wrote an outline for over a year ago but never posted in public. I had considered posting it to Sailor Moon's Reddit back then, but I (probably wisely) held off, as my musing went way off the rails.

But I figured now's a good time as any to share it here, at least. Though it'll need to be its own post since I wrote so goddamn much in this post alone, wow.

On that note, I'll end with this: The only iteration of UsaMamo that I unironically enjoyed and rooted for is...

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nkjemisin · 9 months

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You should try to go see public works Tempest in central park, it’s really incredible and reminded me of the city we became. It’s super insane and beautiful and wild and hard to describe, so even though it’s insane to ask someone to go stand in line all day to see a play based off a random tumblr message I really think you should!

Oooh, I haven't done the line for Shakespeare in the Park in years. Not sure I still have it in me, since it requires getting up at 3 or 4 am and spending hours fighting line-jumpers and so on. But I've been hearing good things about this year's Tempest so maybe I'll muster up the energy. Thanks for the recommendation!

Since you reminded me of it, here's a deleted scene/alternate opening I once wrote for THE WORLD WE MAKE. I decided on a different opening for the final version, obvs, but maybe you'll enjoy what might have been. Cutting because long.

He's just a man standing on a rooftop. The outfit he's wearing is bespoke, by a Harlem tailor who came in second on Project Runway's last season. The jacket is rich brown suede, fine-stitched, over olive-tan pants and a piqué shirt of deepest royal indigo, and he's wearing the hell out of it. If there were anyone around to see, they'd think he was a model, standing in the kind of casual-at-attention pose that only men in magazine photo shoots ever do, with one hand in a pocket and his gaze thoughtfully locked on the cityscape horizon. The model aesthetic is reinforced by the fact that he's got a lean, strong figure and the kind of racial ambiguity that Hollywood diversity advocates love: brown skin that's not too brown, lips full enough to be either natural or recent collagen injections, thick eyebrows that are as sculpted as his cheekbones, eyes with just enough epicanthic fold to qualify as "exotic" but not in like an ethnic way.

He's not a model. He's just Manhattan, human representative of New York's contributions to the fashion, media, and sex work industries. He's not even trying particularly hard to look good. He has simply stopped resisting what comes naturally.

But he's about to be late for work -- and while New York custom permits a degree of conspicuous tardiness as a social power move in certain situations, this particular job is too personally important to him for such games. So he steps up onto the low wall that surrounds the roof, and then he steps off.

It's fine. The building is twelve stories tall; anything over five stories is required to have an elevator per city ordinance. He's been practicing, too, so all he has to do is shut his eyes and imagine, and the city's power holds him aloft in midair as solidly as if he's stepping onto flooring. (He is; it's just flooring that exists in several other iterations of his universe.) Even with this, however, he makes sure to take a step or two forward before calmly turning away from the cityscape. People don't usually stare at the back of an elevator, after all -- and verisimilitude is key. "First floor, please," he murmurs. In earlier days of the city, building elevators were a complicated luxury that required trained staff to operate. In current days of the city, many elevators run on voice activation. At Manhattan's request, there is an electronic ping of acknowledgement, followed by a very faint echo of blended, long-vanished voices: "Watch the door, please, watch your hands, going down." Then he begins to descend. It's smooth, slow; this is only a mid-sized building, not modern or expensive enough to have an express elevator. Only the fact that he's descending through thin air makes it odd.

Just above the sidewalk his descent slows, letting him drift to a gentle halt. There are a few dozen people on the street in this moment, and some of them notice as he just stands there for a moment, letting the metaphysical aethers settle and the metaphorical elevator doors open. The ones who stare are tourists. New Yorkers generally don't react to strangeness, but they do notice it, if only to shake their heads and murmur "This fucking city," to themselves before moving on. Manhattan catches the eye of one of the starers, winks and smiles, then strides off down the street.

As he walks, he hums John Coltrane's "Central Park West" -- not for power this time, but simply because he's walking along Central Park West and likes the song. It's also a beautiful day. Here at the heart of the city it is clear that autumn encroaches: Central Park is across the street, dense with color-shifting trees. Their whispers speak to the part of Manhattan that was more, once, than just concrete and cars; the island has always been here, after all, crossroads for many peoples, and those millennia of commerce were enough to form the building blocks of the living entity that it is now. But mostly, he just likes that rustling sound, and the flickers of color and movement, and the faint whiff of chemical sugars forming and breaking down within the leaves. Something about that scent, and the wind's occasional brisk sharpness, speaks to him.

There is the lightest of touches upon the part of him that is more than a man. Just a ping, to get his attention. "You wanna focus, or you gonna just keep spacing out about the pretty pretty trees, Mr. I Was Bebop Before It Was Cool?"

They've all figured out that words work better than thoughts. They are one city, the six of them, and if they ever need to, they can function as a single brain and heart and will -- but doing that is as overwhelming as it is thrilling. New York isn't supposed to be any single thing, see; the distinct characters of its boroughs are part of its strength. More personally, Manny's probably never going to be super-comfortable with letting his fellow parts of the city into his head, because he's got enough going on in there already.

But he's right in reminding Manny to focus. "Just getting into the spirit," Manny replies, waiting for a gap in the traffic before trotting across the street. Then he vaults the low stone wall around the edge of the park. It's a twelve-foot drop beyond, but he manages it easily enough, landing in a crouch in a wooded thicket already carpeted in red and gold leaves. Doesn't even make his knees twinge. Nothing can hurt New York, in New York, except New York.

Well. And one other thing.

He moves forward at a brisk Midtown pace, pushing aside the branches of small trees as gently as he can so as not to damage them. He starts finding white tendrils almost immediately. Just small patches here and there: three wigglers on a broad, still-green sycamore leaf, one on the tree's gnarling roots nearby. A patch shaped like a handprint growing atop a hooded garbage can; that one's especially nasty, positioned as it is to infect anyone who actually tries to deposit their litter in the can instead of just tossing it somewhere. "Rude," Manny murmurs. He's getting rid of the patches as he passes them, just by touching the wood or ground or metal near each cluster and letting a little of "Central Park West" riff through his mind and down his arm and out through his fingers. Earworms can be handy. Good for killing other wormlike things.

(Not so long ago, it would have taken everything Manny had to get rid of these things. He had to replace all his credit cards after symbolically buying all the real estate around a particular rock in Inwood Park. Now, however, the city is whole -- and these tendrils, tenacious as they are, are tourists from another urban locale who've overstayed their welcome. It's easy to obliterate them, but it's more important to find the bus they came in on, and deal with that.)

"Red alert!" says Padmini -- Queens -- suddenly. She tugs on the shared part of their consciousness, projecting an image onto it that is stunning in its precision: a three-dimensional and topographical map, with a moving cursor at its center and a GPS coordinate meter in the bottom corner. Padmini abruptly zooms them in on the cursor, and then she presents them with a simplified view through her own eyes.

There, jolting slightly as Padmini runs, is their quarry. To most other people in Central Park, the young man who slips down a leaf-thick hill and then scrabbles his way over a tumbled, mossy pile of bedrock is just another cross-country runner, or maybe a parkour practitioner with a greater love of natural settings than most. He's a lanky Indian-looking guy, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt -- but through the lens of Padmini's vision, Manny sees the rest. The guy's got patches of white fronds all over him, and as he runs they waft back like long hair which just happens to be growing from his forearms and shins and ass. Manny's used to this, people who look like yeti crabs, however horrible it is. Far worse is the tendril which projects from the back of the young man's neck, thick and veined in a disturbingly umbilical way, forming a long white cord which twists up and out of sight amid the trees. It stretches up into the sky, Manny knows from three months' experience, attenuating until it disappears from human eyesight with distance -- but wending southward before it does. They all know where that cable terminates.

"Mike check," says Veneza, and Manny's mental eye shifts to her view. She's standing under one of the park's stone bridges, her vision bouncing a little as she crouches to stretch out her ankles. Getting ready to run. Manny feels her excitement as the tendril-covered man comes into view, jogging over a grassy hill covered in early-afternoon sunbathers. But who's he kidding? They all enjoy this. "That's it. Come to mamãe. Drive him like a li'l doggie on the range, Queeny McQueenyface."

"I can't believe you mixed like three metaphors in ten seconds," Padmini replies -- but she zigs left, across one of the roads of the park. Manny catches his breath as she veers into a bike lane, because Central Park bikers all think they're in the Tour de France, but in the same moment he feels her latch into the bikers' sense of hurry and entitlement, drawing their power into her legs. Her pace speeds up sharply, until she's nearly flying down a sloping sidewalk, veering now and again to move around walkers and a small crowd near a pretzel vendor.

"That's the Jersey in me. Metaphors are our pork roll."

"Your what?"

"Pork roll. Look it -- wait, shit, hang on."

Tendril man has seen Veneza and stopped, halfway down the grassy hill. It's eerie to Manny how still he is. After all the running and climbing he's done, he should be out of breath, shoulders heaving, dripping sweat, but he isn't. It's just like the other cases of this they've encountered in the past few weeks; they're running on something other than human power. These tendril-people aren't avatars, however; they're more like drones, sent forth by some other malevolent consciousness and endowed with supernatural power only temporarily, and for their task. And if they don't catch this poor guy before that power gets done using him -- Well. Manny picks up the pace.

Padmini skids to a halt. (A man nearby does a double-take, then nods in a grudgingly impressed way at her athleticism.) "Shit. He's going to bolt, isn't he?"

In lieu of any reply, they all see Tendril Man bolt. He jumps off the steeper side of the rocky hill -- a ten-foot drop; Manny really hopes the poor guy was in shape before he got drafted as a spectral conduit for a hostile extradimensional essence, or he's going to feel that in the morning. Then Tendril Man takes off, moving with truly impressive speed up a paved hill-path.

"FUCK," two of them think. (Manny doesn't curse, but he empathizes.) They all take off running too.

Tendril Man is running toward a big, round building at the top of the hill. Its vendor doors are shut and there are only a few people hanging around near it, but abruptly he zigs toward a big wooden gate labeled PERFORMER ENTRANCE -- and vaults it, with the ease of a master gymnast. Manny might be able to think of a way over it too, if he gives himself a minute; surely there is some quintessentially cityish concept, like elevators for tall buildings, that he can harness to grant himself the ability to jump like that. In the fluster of the moment, however, he can't think of anything. Gotta work on that, do better at having a "jumping" construct ready to go under duress.

In lieu of leaping, however, he manages to remember the grating sound of garbage trucks barrelling down the street at oh dark thirty in the morning, usually with wonky transmissions and brakes that screech loudly enough to set off car alarms. Manny's seen several of them scrape or bang into cars without bothering to stop -- and so he draws into himself the desperate need to hurry and finish a shift, the hulking size and diesel-fueled strength of the trucks, the cheerful pragmatism of the tough workers who chuck heavy bags and kick rats with unflappable equanimity. And as Manny runs at the gate, the world blurs a little and an eyewatering stench surrounds him, and he finds it almost impossible to care about collateral damage because he's got a job to do, come on, come on, let's go...

He remembers enough of himself to dip his shoulder a little as he hits the gate. It only looks like wood; underneath, there's plenty of metal, and he sees that the gate has an electronic number-lock. Probably pretty solid. But his supernaturally-powered shoulder smashes the gate wide open, actually cracking the whole frame in half, too, and part of the fence beyond it.

Oops. Well, he'll make a donation on the website, because now that he's through the gate he sees: THE DELACOURTE THEATER WELCOMES YOU TO SHAKESPEARE IN THE PARK.

Tendril Guy is running down the steps of what Manny now sees is a huge open-air amphitheater. He leaps again, a pretty impressive standing jump onto the stage -- and then he stops abruptly. There's a set being deconstructed here; Shakespeare in the Park only runs during the summer months, so someone's in the middle of stripping gigantic rolls of fake grass off the stage floor. And now, from within a huge prop built to look like a small apartment building, the avatar of New York steps forth to confront their enemy.

He's calling himself "Neek," these days -- a phonetic pronunciation of the initials for New York City. He hasn't told them his real name. Manny's not sure it matters anyway; doesn't Manny, of all people, understand that they are no longer who they were? The knowledge and joy and danger of eight million people has found its focus in Neek, and like any of their fellow great cities, this makes him strange. São Paulo was the same, whenever Manny had time and peace enough to study him: a young-old man who radiated urbane cynicism and eerie wisdom all at once. Hong Kong too. Maybe this is the difference between those who represent boroughs or neighborhoods, and those who are whole cities in themselves.

Or maybe it's just Neek. "Yo, man, take a breath," he says to Tendril Guy, as he slouches out of shadow. "Touch some, uh, astroturf. You keep letting that shit run you, won't be anything of you left."

Tendril Guy immediately turns to run, but by this point Manny has reached the other side of the stage. Veneza is in the ampitheater, trotting toward them from the other direction, and from somewhere backstage they can hear Padmini cursing and shoving something heavy aside, because apparently backstage is a mess amid the set breakdown. Unless Tendril Guy can fly -- and Manny puts nothing past the Woman in White -- then he's got nowhere left to run.

It's a dangerous time, though. In the past, whenever they've cornered one of her minions... Tendril Guy backs up, looks around, starts to get tense. Manny tries to think up a construct, and finds himself looking around. At the stage.

Neek's gaze flicks to him, and the little smile on his face widens.

"Two cities," he declares suddenly, spreading his arms wide and raising his voice. The Delacourte's acoustics are perfect, of course, designed to facilitate an outdoors theatrical performance. "Both alike in dignity! In fair Manhattan where we lay our scene."

Of course the theater absorbs this slightly-fudged homage, echoes it, amplifies it, and sends back a reverberation of energy: the faint murmurs and anticipation of a crowd, a lilt of music from a nonexistent orchestra. For just a fleeting moment Manny can almost see the suggestion of bodies in the amphitheater seats, shadowy heads that turn to each other or crane their necks or flip through Playbills. Ready to be enraptured.

Manny finds himself grinning -- but then he panics a little as Neek raises his eyebrows pointedly, because Manny doesn't have any Shakespeare memorized. But Broadway is only a few dozen blocks away; maybe he can use that instead? He sifts quickly through the grab-bag of random quotes in his head. Can't think of an actual line from an actual play, but it's a direct reference, so he clears his throat awkwardly and sings: "They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway. There might be city magic in the air."

Stage lights, multihued but mostly white, appear above the seats. The lights aren't real. Manny can see most of the lighting equipment disassembled and stacked up to one side of the stage. Tendril Guy flinches suddenly and violently, staggering back. Steam rises as Tendril Guy raises his arms defensively, the tendrils on him whipping and hissing wildly as the city's light begins to burn them away.

They have to keep it going. Veneza giggles and runs down the steps, leaping to a crouch as if she's acting out some play or another, and sings, "Now is the time to seize the day! Answer the call and don't delay! New York can be righted, boroughs united; let us seize the day!" In response, loose cables curled on one side of the stage suddenly come to life, whipping around Tendril Guy's legs to keep him from running again.

One of the doors on the prop building slams open dramatically. Beyond it they can see Padmini pushing aside a rack of clothing that persistently keeps trying to roll toward her. She manages it, stumbles out, and glowers around at all of them. Veneza gestures frantically for her to take up the thread; Neek spreads his hands too in the universal sign of Come on, hurry up. Finally, with a little growl, Padmini snaps, "Oh, fine. 'Immigrants: We get the job done!'" This doesn't seem to have any effect at first, but then Padmini shoves a large, heavy-looking wooden desk out of the way with ease; she's much stronger, now. Enough to get this job done.

As performances go, it's all terrible. Slapdash, random, corny; Manny won't be surprised if in the morning they all receive a clipped-out review from a theater magazine that exists only in some alternate reality, panning all of them for defiling the stage. But as a construct, drawing on the power of three boroughs and the delight of a thousand audiences, from the Delacourte to the Fringe Festival and back, it's exactly what they need.

Then, his voice muffled by his own extradimensional growths, Manny hears Tendril Guy -- or maybe the guy within the pelt of tendrils -- try to speak. "A-all the w-world..." he murmurs, his voice thick, too deep, flanged in a way that sounds like bad special effects. He's steaming all over, now. Ah, and at last Manny sees the tendrils burning away, peeling off and curling into nothingness. As he lowers his arms, Manny sees that he's sweaty-faced and visibly exhausted... but he is smiling. He turns to face the whispering, flickering audience, and all at once Manny can feel him. Tendril Guy is part of New York, again -- and he knows it, and some part of his soul rejoices with the knowledge. Probably helps that the guy is a former theater kid himself; Manny can feel that, now that the Enemy's influence has been broken. Neek grins at Manny; he can feel it, too.

So then Neek goes over to Tendril Guy, leans close, and blows on the now-shriveled cord attached to the back of his neck. It snaps free as if Neek's breathed fire onto it, uttering a faint creel of inhuman pain -- and then the cord is snatched away upwards, into the darkening evening sky. Manny catches a fleeting hint of sinuous movement against the clouds, southward, and then it is gone.

Tendril Guy, who is now just Some Guy, beams at Neek. Then he steps back and lifts a finger. "All the world's a stage," he says again -- clearly this time, in a pleasant baritone, projecting with the ease of long practice. "And all the men and women merely players! They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages."

He does the whole monologue then, perfectly. Not that Manny would know if he got it right -- but the Delacourte does, and as Manny glances out at their whispery audience, he sees smiles, hears soft "ahs" and giggles of approval with every precisely-enunciated line. As Some Guy finishes, applause breaks out, echoing with unreality but loud and enthusiastic. The artist formerly known as Tendril Guy beams in delight and extends his hands for Manny and Neek to take. They do. Padmini, her pique fading now that she's no longer fighting furniture, shakes her head and takes Neek's hand; Veneza giggles and runs up the steps to take Manny's. The applause goes on as, uh, Theater Guy leads them in first one bow, and then another. Someone in the audience whistles. Someone else yells "Encore!" It's intoxicating. They bow a third time. As at last the applause fades and the lights start to go dark... Theater Guy collapses, between them.

"Oh, no," Veneza says, her delight vanishing. "Please, not again -- "

"He's fine," Manny says, crouching by Theater Guy, though he checks Theater Guy's neck-pulse and breathing just to be sure. It's there, though the guy's skin is clammy with sweat.

"Close," Neek says. He's looking up at the sky, after the ugly cable that had been attached to the guy's neck.

It's only the second time that they've successfully rescued one of these agents of the Woman in White, sent forth from her bastion in Staten Island to... well, Manny's not exactly sure what their purpose is. Are they superspreaders meant to reinfect the city, and thus help her regain the foothold that she lost three months before? Are they drones of a sort, reconnoitering enemy territory? Either way, the result is always the same, if Manny and his fellow avatars don't catch the tendril-bearer and cleanse them in time: the person burns out and dies, all of their strength used up by the alien intelligence that has worn them like a puppet.

Not this time, though. "Let's get him outside," Manny says, grunting as he pulls Theater Guy up. "Easier for an ambulance to get to him out there."

"But what about after?" Padmini asks. She comes over to help him wrestle the guy into a sitting position, so that Manny can pull him into a fireman's carry. "Uff, he's heavy! But if somebody calls his family and they take him back to Staten Island, will she just take him over again? What if she's mad at him for getting caught by us?"

"It's fine," Neek says. He's still turned away from them, facing southward. There is an odd note in his voice, however, which makes Manny frown at his back. Neek sounds... distracted. "Most of the folks on Staten are fine. The ones who commute here lose their little wigglers when they step off the ferry, unless they've got one of those bigger cable-things attached to them. Grow 'em back on the after-work ride. They don't even notice."

"Remember what it was like when she was all over the city," Manny adds. "All those people she... infected. She used them if she needed them and ignored them otherwise. They became part of her, but they didn't seem to mean anything to her, any more than..." He shakes his head, to the degree that he can with Theater Guy on his shoulders. "Individual hairs on a person's head. How often do we notice when we lose one, or when it grows back?"

"We shouldn't let him go back at all," Padmini says, scowling. "We know she's doing something to all those people. He's safer here!"

Neek focuses enough to turn and eye her over his shoulder. His tone is mild and his expression neutral, but his words have a sharp point. "You gonna spring for an apartment for him somewhere? Let him go crash with ya auntie and the fam?"

"No, but -- "

"I know a good spot under the Williamsburg." Neek's relentless. "Probably still good even with all the cleanup and construction since the bridge broke. Warm on cold nights, hard to see so the kids and assholes don't fuck with you. We could dump him there."

Padmini sets her jaw. "Fine. Point made. But Staten Islanders are still people, and we should try to help them."

Veneza, who was peering into the orchestra pit in fascination, turns back to them, plainly uneasy at the tension she's picking up. "We are. But I mean, Pads... that's not really our job."

Now they all fall into an uncomfortable silence, because sometimes the truth is hard. And the truth is that the avatar of Staten Island is not here with them today because she has rejected them, and thrown her people to the interdimensional wolves by doing so. They are all of them New York... but they are not Staten Island, not anymore. Theater Guy's ultimate fate isn't theirs to make.

"Ay yo fuck that bird," Neek says, scowling at Veneza, who blinks in surprise. "Her and Squigglebitch tried to kill us, remember? Tried to eat you. Let Staten Island die."

Padmini stares at him. "Wait. What? Let a whole borough die? Are you crazy?"

"Fuck them." Neek gestures sharply, southward. "Everyone on Staten Island. Buncha racist redneck Republican dumbasses, nobody needs them. They're the reason she's still here, hanging over this city like a fucking guillotine. I'm tired of stressing about this shit! Let her flyover country ass die with the rest of them nobody-nothing sons of bitches."

Manny flinches, despite himself. That's beyond harsh. And something about this little rant feels... off. He's known Neek for all of three months, but in that time Neek has been a quiet and low-key leader of their group, unusually even-keeled for the personification of a city known for its aggression. Are you okay? rises to Manny's lips, but he refrains from saying it, aware that it could sound patronizing. He's wondering it, though.

All at once different lights snap on within the theater -- not stage lights, but all the rest. Padmini frowns at this. "Hey, we don't need these anymore. Which one of you -- "

Abruptly a piercing electronic alarm sounds throughout the theater, and the lights all turn a startling, awful red.

"What the shit?" Neek says. He blinks as if dazed, turning to stare up at the lights -- and then he stiffens. "Manny. You doing that?"

Manny can barely hear him over the noise. "No, why would I? Can't you stop it?" Neek is New York. He has better control over the city's power than any of them... but all of a sudden, the city feels strange. Sluggish and reluctant, when Manny gently urges it to shut off the alarm. It's responsive, but unreliable and slow in a way Manny's never noticed before.

And to Manny's surprise, Neek takes a step back, his very posture radiating unease. "I... can't. Nothing's happening. What the fuck." He shakes his head.

"Yo, uh, we should go," Veneza says, bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet. "If that's a break-in alarm -- I mean, we did break in, but -- "

The Delacourte sits the middle of Central Park, in one of the city's toniest neighborhoods, and is the site of one of its most popular attractions. "Out," Manny snaps, when it becomes clear that Neek has been so thrown by the situation that he's not reacting quickly enough. "Now."

Veneza's already moving, running to the edge of the stage. Manny follows her as quickly as he can with Theater Guy, and Padmini grabs Neek, dragging him along when he doesn't move fast enough. "Cover your faces!" she cries -- and, yeah, if the city's magic suddenly isn't helping them anymore, that's a good idea. But Manny can't, unless he wants to drop Theater Guy, who's been through enough.

There are people milling around in front of the Delacourte, mostly looky-loos reacting to the continuous beeeeeeep of the alarm, but Manny sees how many of them have smartphones in hand. It can't be helped. He crouches and carefully sets Theater Guy on a patch of soft grass, and catches the eye of an older lady who is staring at all of them. "Call 911," he says, with as much urgency as he can. They can't stop people from filming them fleeing the scene of an apparent break-in, but maybe the sight of someone in distress will distract most of the onlookers. "This man is hurt and needs an ambulance. I don't know what happened to him, he just collapsed."

The lady gasps and starts punching at her phone. Veneza grabs Manny, tugging so he'll leave Theater Guy there on the ground. He doesn't want to. If the cops arrive first, there's a strong chance they'll arrest Theater Guy for the break-in. If he could just make sure the paramedics arrive first, and that the cops think the alarm is just a mechanical error... He touches the ground next to his knee and reaches into it, groping for the feel of city power --

He finds echoes of old audience frustration and annoyed staff and prematurely shutdown vendor services... but these energies will not move in response to his will. What's there feels different from all the other times he's ever used city power -- clotted, somehow.

"Dude," Veneza says, giving him a hard yank. They can hear sirens outside the park, coming closer. "Come on, man, I ain't doing Rikers for you!"

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Manny lets Veneza pull him away. They book it for Central Park West again, zigging southward first since there are woods and rock hills in that direction that can obscure their route for anyone trying to put them on TMZ.

In their wake, the Delacourte's alarm blares until sirens drown it out.

TWWM Deleted Scene 1 by N. K. Jemisin is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

#the world we make #the great cities #deleted scene #answered asks

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grandeoatmilklatte · 10 months

Text

All Hallows Eve 👻

Jumping on the Jackdaw smut train here. Ever since @greedyforgarreth wrote her Jackdaw smut I've been thirsting hard for this damn ghost. 😭 But honestly as a certified spooky girl™️ it was only a matter of time before I started thirsting after ghosts. This one is for you darling hope you like it! 😘 @ask-richard-jackdaw

Also yes, I know it's July, but Halloween is the next big commercial holiday so it's basically Halloween season now. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

All Hallow's Eve - Richard Jackdaw x House Neutral F!MC

Summary: MC summons Jackdaw for some Halloween activities - 1.5k words

Warnings: Smut!/NSFW/18+!, MC is aged up and in 7th year!, Spectrophilia, mentions of voyuerism, f!nger!ng, she has sexy time with a ghost lol

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“The veil is always thinnest on All Hallows Eve” MC always heard people say, both in the muggle and wizarding worlds. On this night, it was said that it was easier for things from the other side to pass over, and it was easier for those things to interact and communicate with living beings. MC was eager to test this theory out tonight.

Everything was ready. Her candles were lit and arranged around her in a circle, as she sat cross legged in the middle. The room was dark, the candles being the only light, and she was wearing her robe with the hood up. In front of her was a worn out spirit board and a small jar of dirt obtained from his final resting place. It was what she planned to use to summon him.

She took a deep breath and placed her hands on the planchette before reciting the mantra needed to start this session. “Spirit, I’m opening the door to thee, on this All Hallows Eve, please speak to me.” She repeated this two more times, waiting a moment before she asked her first question. “Are you here?” Her eyes darted around the room. The planchette immediately moved to the “yes” position. A smile formed on her face.

Just then, Richard Jackdaw floated down from the ceiling. “Darling, you know you don’t have to do all this, right? You can just call out to me, you know I’ll come to you right away.” His voice was sweet and gentle.

MC ripped off the hood of her robe and sighed. “I know! But this is fun! It’s Halloween! It’s spooky!” She replied excitedly. “I’m sorry, I know it’s silly, I’m just nervous.” She stared up at his ghostly figure. He could see the nervousness in her eyes. It was strange for him to feel this way, but he was feeling nervous too.

MC blew out the candles and restored the room to its normal state - her bedroom in the Room of Requirement. Once the room was restored, MC sat on the edge of the bed staring at Richard. It wasn’t until that moment that he got a better look at what she was wearing, or rather, what she wasn’t wearing. Under her robe peaked a lacy set of black lingerie. She undid her robe and sat back on her arms, Richard taking in her beauty.

This wasn’t the first time he had seen her in this level of undress. They actually spent time like this quite frequently since they started this little rendezvous in her 7th year. He always found her fascinating, her confident and adventurous attitude impressing him ever since they met in her 5th year. It was only recently however that they found themselves having romantic feelings towards one another, as confusing as that was for them to admit to each other. Had he been alive, he would have swooped her off her feet by now. But he couldn’t. So they did what they could.

He’d watch her, encouraging her as she came undone under her own hands. He was unable to really touch her, his only contribution outside of his words being the freezing cold air he provided her whenever any part of his body touched hers. It felt good for a brief period of time, but it was never enough. Tonight was supposed to be different, though. Supposedly, they could both actually feel each other, the whole “veil is thin” theory. He tried to innocently ask the other ghosts in the school if this was actually possible, but none of them cared enough to interact with the living to know for sure. So there was only one way to find out.

“Oh darling! Look at you! You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Richard eyed her body. No matter how many times he stared, he was always mesmerized by her. “Are you ready, my love?”

MC gave Richard a soft smile before she beckoned him towards her. He floated over to her and placed each hand on her shoulders over the straps of her bra, before he leaned in, his lips meeting hers for the first time. MC gasped. “I…I still feel the cold, but I also feel a bit of pressure. Almost like instead of being touched with cold air I’m being touched with a piece of ice. Still cold, but I do feel something. I can feel your lips and fingers, but the feeling is just very light, even when you apply pressure” She smiled up at him. “I can feel the same, but instead of cold you feel warm. Remember, we can stop at any time if it gets too much” He smiled back at her, and she nodded. With the confirmation that there was at least something they could feel, he removed her bra and panties, shivers running up her spine the whole time, which she ignored. Once she was fully undressed, she moved herself backwards on the bed so that her legs could rest on the bed before she spread them, wetness already present between her folds. He positioned himself hovering over her.

His hands navigated down her body, his one hand coming between her thighs as he began to rub hard and fast circles into her clit. She let out a soft moan, her eyes locked on Richard. She tried not to focus on how cold she was, letting the pleasure she was feeling overtake her, her moans getting more frequent. “You’re doing so well, my dear. I’m sorry it feels so cold, but you’re taking it so well.” He was well aware that his voice had an effect on her, and if he couldn’t do anything else, at least he could bring her to orgasm with his words. “You’re being such a good girl for me. You look so beautiful moaning for me.”

MC was breathless when she spoke. “I want more! Please!.” Her voice was soft and the look in her eyes was desperate. Her teeth were practically chattering, but he couldn’t deny her, not when he was finally making her fall apart in his cold ghostly hands. “Oh darling, I know this might be hard, but would it be alright if I slid my fingers into that pretty little hole of yours?” He felt naughty asking that of her. He had never spoken to a woman like this before, always preferring to be a gentleman to the women he courted while he was alive. But MC brought this naughty side out of him, and he loved it, and he knew she did too.

MC nodded as she watched his fingers pass through her entrance, she could still see them, but she was immediately hit with that freezing cold pressure once again. She let out a loud moan. ”Oh Richard! It feels so cold but it feels so good! Please don’t stop!” The combination of the coldness of his fingers in contrast with the heat she was starting to feel from her impending orgasm was strange, but she was enjoying it. Her moans were so loud they could have been mistaken for screams. He pumped his fingers into her hard, knowing she was only feeling a fraction of that pressure. He could feel an ever so slight squeeze around his fingers, and although he had never experienced that before, he could tell from the way she was breathing and the way her body arched that she was close to an orgasm, having watched her have one multiple times before.

“I know you’re almost there, come on, darling!” Their eyes were locked on each other, both of them refusing to break eye contact.

MC let out a long drawn out moan as her orgasm hit her. He waited a moment before pulling his fingers out of her, not wanting to subject her to that cold feeling any longer. He didn’t feel much of anything on his fingers in terms of an orgasm, but he knew she got there, her movements, noises, and her increased wetness being telltale signs of it.

Once she had come down from her orgasm, she made herself comfortable on the bed, wrapping herself in her thick blanket to warm up and scooting over so that he had a spot to lay, or rather hover over. He joined her on the bed as he always did after an evening together. They lay facing each other, staring at each other. For the first time that night, MC leaned in and kissed Richard, his lips giving her a cold kiss in return. He would never understand how she could love someone like this, someone she could never have a life with, but somehow she did. And he loved her. They both knew this couldn’t last forever, but they were enjoying it while they could. He watched her as her eyes started to droop, tiredness clear on her face.

“You should get to bed darling. The night is almost over. Everything will be back to normal tomorrow.” He felt heartache saying this, despite not having a beating heart.

“You’re right.” She let out a yawn. “I love you, Richard.” She said sleepily. “I love you too, MC.” He leaned in for one last cold kiss, the two of them savoring each other’s lips before she closed her eyes. He waited until her breathing turned soft before he floated away. “Happy Halloween, my love.”

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#richard jackdaw #richard jackdaw x mc #richard jackdaw smut #i can't believe i just typed that tag out lolol #richard jackdaw x reader

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teenwolfmarvel-obsessor · 9 months

Text

Cingulomania

Full Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

A/N: I saw this tiktok about 'Cingulomania' and thought it would be a great imagine! I struggled with picking a character, but this one fits since I'm back in my Steve Harrington era, although I've always been in my Steve Harrington era.

Summary: Like most college students, relationships were crucial to having a good time. That was until you decided that dating was getting tiring. You had been on so many bad dates, but none of them seemed to work out like you hoped. It wasn't until one shift at Family Video did you realize what was going on. You were focused on being in someone else's arms rather than the random dates'.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/F/M: Your Favorite Meal

Cingulomania - the desire to be in someone else's arms.

Takes place in season four (no spoilers)

Warnings:

Long imagine

Steve Harrington x-reader

I handed a woman a copy of The Breakfast Club. She smiled at me and took the bag from the counter. The bell of the door rang when she exited, and a few people stepped in. Robin greeted the new customers, going back to organizing a shelf. "Question," she walked over to me.

I looked up from the agenda of the day. My friend joined me with two movies in hand. "Which one is better, Tron or The Karate Kid?" she asked. I looked at each movie, tapping my chin in thought. Every Friday, Steve and Robin would come over to my apartment and watch a movie.

"The Karate Kid," I said. She nodded and hid it behind the counter so nobody would take it. The customers from earlier came over to rent out their movies.

Robin took care of the small group while I fixed the agenda. Keith wanted us to do a lot of projects today, but knowing Robin and I, we wouldn't get half of them done. We'd usually blame it on how busy the store was, which wasn't a total lie. "Have a great rest of your day," Robin said, waving them goodbye.

She turned to me with her arms resting on the countertop. "I totally forgot I have that date with Sam tonight," I said. Robin's shoulders dropped. "Another date?" she said with a raised brow. I nodded and closed the journal.

I set it below the register, putting the pen on top. I hadn't been going out that frequently. "I promised Sam that we'd eat dinner together," I said. Sam was in my Geometry course.

The two of us had been partners on a project which led to him asking me out. I would've said no, but Sam was nice, and why not? "Is this the Sam with the weird ears or the one that has that snorting laugh?" Robin asked. She pointed to her own ears.

"The one with the snorting laugh," I answered. She laughed herself, covering her mouth to try and suppress her reaction. "Sam is nice, and I'm actually excited for once," I said. Robin smiled and pat me on the shoulder. "At least you're better than Steve," she commented.

Now it was my turn to laugh. She turned back to the outside of the store, watching as some cars drove in and out of the small parking lot. "Don't you get tired of it? I feel like this is your fifth date this month," she said. "It's not a whole lot," I shrugged, "I mean, all four dates have been fails, but I'm confident that I'll find someone."

I always thought it must've been something wrong with me. But Steve would always say that it wasn't my fault, just the guys I was going on dates with. Robin often commented on how the main reason why I couldn't find someone was because I already had someone in my life who was head over heels for me.

And no, she wasn't talking about Keith. At least, I hope she wasn't. Keith never had a good rep when it came to asking people out. "I just don't see you and Sam working out," Robin sighed. "Thank you, Robin, for the encouragement," I remarked.

She rolled her eyes at my response. She hopped over the counter to grab a pencil that had fallen. Robin set it back into the jar next to the computer. "I'm just saying," she put her hands up, "You have the perfect person in your life, and you just can't see it." She ignored my confused expression and continued speaking.

"Steve. Y/N, I'm talking about Steve."

"What?"

"Steve. I'm talking about him," she repeated. "Yeah, I heard you the first time," I responded. I shook my head in disagreement, moving over to the computer to type in today's rentals. Robin walked around to join my side.

She set a hand on top of mine, pulling my hand away from the keyboard. "Cingulomania," she said. Now I was really freaking confused. She let out a long, heavy sigh. "The desire to be held in someone's arms," Robin continued. "Huh?" I replied.

"Oh my god. You and Steve are really the same," Robin said. She reached over the computer to turn it off. Before I could stop her, Robin grabbed the notebook and pen and chucked it over the counter. She stared at me with crossed arms. "Cingulomania. It means the desire to be held in someone's arms," Robin repeated.

I turned to her in the office chair, my own arms crossed. Now I know why Robin told Keith that she could cover Steve's shift. "The reason why your dates have failed is because that little part of your brain is telling you not to move forward," Robin explained. "Are you telling me that I'm self-sabotaging my dating life?" I said.

"That is exactly what I'm saying," Robin said. She leaned to the side, so she rested against the counter again. "Why in the hell would I do that?" I said. "Because you don't want to think about how many times you could've been with Steve," Robin clarified, "I know the two of you like the back of my hand. You're extremely the same."

Robin stood up straight to continue speaking her point. "When the both of you make eye contact, it's like there's a conversation going on without the talking aspect. Whenever we have movie nights, there is no hesitation when it comes to holding each other's hands," Robin explained, "And I see the way you blush when Steve puts his arms around you. Same with him." She put her hands on her hips.

I could tell she was very proud of herself. I stood up from the desk to retrieve the notebook and pen that she threw. "Dustin sees it. Lucas, Mike, and Max all see it. You and Steve are just too blind to see it," Robin said. "You're delusional," I retorted.

"No. You're delusional for not using your smart-ass brain to see," Robin said. I stared at her for a few seconds before putting the book down. I pinched the area between my brows, realizing that Robin was right. "Okay, but I'm still going on the date tonight," I said.

Robin's mouth fell open at the sound of my statement. She followed me as I walked over to another shelf that had been messed up. "Did everything I just tell you not reach your ears?" Robin said. "No, it did," I replied, "I've already canceled once on Sam, I don't want to cancel last minute." Robin groaned, tilting her head back. "Why are you so nice to people?" she said.

I shrugged and went back to organized. She kept her eyes on for a split second before walking over to the front of the store to start on some more chores. For the rest of our shift, I couldn't stop thinking about what Robin said.

Sometimes I try to not let the things she says get to my head. But this one really stuck with me. Maybe she was right. Maybe I am self-sabotaging without even realizing it.

_________

(Later that night)

"And so, I told him I wasn't going to buy the truck because it was a waste of money," Sam shrugged, "I mean, you know how much I just love my cars. This guy was really trying to sell me something that would just fall apart." I smiled, nodding along. I should've stuck with what Robin said.

This date was going terribly. All Sam had been talking about was the cars he or his dad had. And all I had been thinking about was how I wish I could be at my apartment with my friends, primarily Steve. While in thought, I hadn't realized Sam had asked me what color he should paint his Corvette.

I cleared my throat and went back to eating my dinner. Sam waited impatiently for my response. "What about red?" I suggested. "Nah. I've already got two red cars," he replied. My lips pressed in a thin one as I nodded in reply. He grinned, taking a sip of his drink. Molly, our waitress, came over and asked how we were doing.

Sam quickly replied that we were doing wonderful. Molly glanced at me. "Great. The food is great, thank you," I said. She looked at me questionably before leaving me and my date to ourselves. Thankfully, Sam hadn't caught the glance. "So, what're you doing for spring break?" Sam asked.

He cut up his steak, pouring a ridiculous amount of sauce on the pieces. "Not much. I think my friends and I might stay at Lovers Lake for a few days," I answered. Sam nodded and then drenched the rest of his steak in the sauce. "Where are you going?" I asked. "Cape Cod, my grandparents have a nice house right on the shore," he answered.

The more the date continued, the more I realized that Sam was just like the other guys. I looked around the restaurant discreetly to find our waitress. "You should see the view," Sam quickly added. He went on and on about the house and, what do you know, his cars. This wasn't anything like our first date.

I finished my Y/F/M and set my fork on the side of the plate. "My father is having an opening ceremony for his work this Monday. I was wondering if you could be my plus one," Sam said, "There will be a great Jazz band. Wonderful food. And you'll get to meet some of my father's successful coworkers."

Molly came over with a pitcher of water, pouring some into my glass. I smiled at her and took a sip. "Um," I began but was interrupted. "Great. It is black-tie attire. You can wear that black dress you wore for your Speech class," Sam interjected. "Sam, I never said yes," I shook my head.

My date look at me, very confused. He pushed his plate to the side, giving me his full attention. "Why wouldn't you say yes? It will be a great party. You'll meet wonderful people, and-" Sam said. Molly walked over to the table, preventing Sam from speaking any further. "So sorry to interrupt," she said.

Our waitress pulled her blonde hair away from her face, her arms behind her back. "Y/N is it?" she asked me. I nodded in response. "I think we went to high school together," Molly said. She winked at me and covertly tilted her head to Sam. I soon took the hint when I noticed Sam's focus on downing the rest of his water.

"Oh, yes. We had Biology together, didn't we?" I said.

"We sure did. Mr. Harris' class," Molly smiled, pulling an act. I smiled in a thankful manner. She then turned to Sam, who looked up from his now empty plate. "Sir, if you'd like to go ahead and pay where you walked in, that would be great," Molly said. I lowered my head, acting like I was fixing the sleeve of my dress.

Sam glanced at Molly and then at me. Molly stood there, smiling. He sighed and stood up from the table. "Just over there, sir," the waitress pointed to the wooden podium. He never thanked her and walked to the front. I watched him as he pulled out his wallet. "Thank you," I said to Molly.

She smiled and set a hand on my shoulder. "Of course. I could tell that he wasn't being very gentlemen-like," Molly said. I thanked her one more time before meeting Sam at the front of the fancy restaurant. It was quiet on the way over to Sam's convertible. Sam hadn't even opened up the door like he did when he picked me up.

And it was quiet on the way to my apartment. I leaned my head against the back of the seat, watching as the trees and light posts flew past. Sam pulled up into the parking lot of my apartment complex. "Thank you," I said as he stopped the car. Sam nodded. He didn't say anything.

I took my purse from the spot in front of my feet. Sam pulled away as soon as I got out of his car. "Well, that went great," I said. I grabbed my keys from the pocket of my purse. The lights were still on when I unlocked the front door, same with the tv. "Your home!" Robin exclaimed, jumping up from the living room couch.

She grinned with her arms up in the air. I took off my shoes, setting them into the basket on the side. "How did you get in here?" I asked. "Extra key," Steve said, walking into the living room from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and shrugged off my jean jacket. The two of them sat on the couch with a bowl of popcorn sitting on the coffee table.

"And I see you've also raided my pantry," I commented. I noticed that there were a few bags of chips sitting on the island. Steve put up a thumbs up. "How was the date?" he asked, tilting his head back so he could look at me. "It was definitely a date," I answered. Both of them look at me with furrowed brows.

It was nice to get changed out of my dress and into a comfy pair of pajamas. Steve and Robin were still watching their movie when I stepped out of my room. "So, another failed date?" Robin said. I nodded and grabbed a drink from the fridge. "What was it this time?" Steve asked.

Once I had my drink, I sat down on the couch. "All he had to talk about was what car he should drive next to school. Or trying to decide where he wants to go on vacation," I explained, "And don't get me started on how much he wants everyone to know how wealthy his family is."

Robin handed me the bowl of snacks. I smiled at her. "I take it that the date didn't go well then," Steve said. "Yeah. We had this really sweet waitress named Molly. She knew right away how I felt about Sam," I added. I noticed that the two of them were watching the Karate Kid without me.

"I can't believe you guys didn't wait for me. I thought we were friends," I said, handing the snack bowl back to Robin. "You were taking too long," Robin sighed. She leaned back on the couch and pulled the knitted blanket to her chin. I rolled my eyes. Steve took the blanket he was using and draped one end over me.

I thanked him with a smile and put my head on his shoulder. Steve reached for my hand, lacing my fingers with his. Robin glimpsed at me for a second. She winked and brought her focus back to the television.

_________

(The Next Day - A Shift at Family Video)

"What about this one?" Steve said, showing me another movie suggestion. It was Saturday, and the store was surprisingly slow today. I yawned and shrugged my shoulders. "The Goonies?" Steve suggested again. "Oh, Josh Brolin," I said.

I reached for the tape, but Steve pulled his hand away. "Oop, never mind," he said. He leaned over to put the movie back into the pile. "What? What's wrong with Josh Brolin?" I said, turning so I faced him.

He looked at me with raised brows like I had just asked something absurd. "Nothing is wrong with Josh Brolin. The guy is great. But if I have to see Robin make googley eyes at Kerri Green one more time, I'm banning The Goonies from our movie list," Steve said.

I nodded and told him to look through the stack of movies again. He sighed, bringing the pile over to the two of us. Steve leaned back with a hand at the top of the shelf. I looked through the stack, trying to find one that we haven't seen. "Okay. We've got...." my sentence trailed.

We had at least four or five other options, but I still wanted to watch The Goonies. I held up the movie and waved it around to try and convince him. "C'mon...." I said. Steve sighed. "Yeah, sure," Steve replied (GIF Above). I cheered to myself and walked over to behind the register.

Steve set the basket back onto the cart to put them away later. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. Steve looked at me as I logged into the computer. "What?" I said, not glancing away from the screen. "Nothing," he shrugged. I looked at him with narrowed eyes.

I finished logging the movie into our store's system. Steve followed me with his eyes as I walked around the register to grab my water bottle from the cart. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked. "Depends on what the question is," I responded, taking a sip of my water and leaning against the side of an aisle.

He smirked and stood beside me, his shoulder against mine. "Do you know what cingulomania means? Robin mentioned it yesterday," Steve spoke, "Sometimes I feel like she just makes up random words to confuse me. Which, if she is, it's working."

[Flashback to the day before. Third-Person View]

Robin and Steve walked through the front door of Y/N's apartment, using the key that Y/N had given them. Robin took her Converse off and dropped them into the basket beside the door. She immediately put the movie in and hopped onto the couch.

She ignored the pillows that fell onto the ground when she settled in. Steve grabbed some popcorn from the top shelf in the kitchen, putting it into the microwave. He glanced at the clock, trying to guess when Y/N would get home from work.

Despite Steve's growing feelings for Y/N, he was eager to hear how her date went. He didn't like to admit that part of him was happy she didn't have a successful date. Steve, too, suffered from cingulomania even though he had no idea what that word meant.

Robin had tried explaining on the way over, but Steve was so confused that she didn't even bother to continue. "You really don't know what cingulomania means?" Robin said. She looked over the top of the couch to see Steve. He shook his head and took out a large bowl from the kitchen island.

She rolled her eyes and turned the volume down on the television. Robin had been looking forward to watching a movie with her friends. She was also hoping Y/N would get home soon so they could finish it together.

"How come I've never heard of it?" Steve said, pouring the snack into a bowl. "Because you're an idiot," Robin corrected. "Wow, how kind of you," Steve remarked. He joined his best friend in the living room. Robin took the bowl from him, shoving the popcorn into her mouth.

Steve picked up the pillows that fell, resting them on the recliner beside the television. He took a blanket from the basket and sat back down. "To put it in simpler terms for your small-minded brain," Robin tapped his head. Steve brought his hands up and fixed his hair. "It basically means that you want to be in her arms, or you want her to be in your arms," Robin said.

Now, Steve was even more confused about how Robin could possibly know about his feelings. "You're not very good at hiding it," Robin said. "Well, I must be. Because Y/N hasn't said a thing," Steve replied, eating the popcorn. She never responded to his reply. Instead, she looked at him with raised brows.

She took the bowl from him and put it on the coffee table. Robin turned down the volume, trying to get her friend's attention. "Steve, you need to make a move or something because it's starting to get exhausting watching you two love each other from afar," Robin said.

Steve sighed and looked back at the movie, pulling the blanket so it covered his arms. "I'll do it," he claimed. "When? Because I talked to Y/N today, and - by the way, you two are creepily right for each other," Robin said, changing the subject mid-sentence. Steve thought to himself, rethinking everything he's done for Y/N and what he's said.

Robin set a hand on his shoulder. "You know her. And you should know that she'll like you no matter what," Robin said, "Plus if it works out for you and Y/N. I could totally add Matchmaker to my resume." Steve looked at her, confused. Robin disregarded Steve's expression and leaned back with a smile on her face.

[Present Day. Y/N's Point of View]

I looked up from my water bottle, remembering what Robin said to me yesterday. 'Cingulomania. It means the desire to be held in someone's arms,' Robin's words popped into my head. "I don't know. What does it mean?" I question, going along.

Steve crossed his arms, playing with the loose thread from his green vest. "The desire to be held in someone's arms," he responded. "Oh," I said, nodding. He nodded as well. "I do think Robin mentioned it to be, then," I said. Steve glanced at me.

"Robin made a comment or two about my dating life. And, how there is a possibility that I am self-sabotaging these dates without realizing it," I answered, "Which I don't think is possible because I've had fun....at least I think I've had fun."

He nodded as I spoke. I felt his hand brush mine. "So, then Robs said the word 'Cingulomania,' to which she followed with, 'You have the perfect person in your life, and you just can't see it'," I paused for a brief moment but was cut short when Steve spoke.

"Who's the guy?"

Steve fixed his position, his shoulder against the wooden side of the shelf. His arms laid at his sides rather than crossed over his chest. "You," I said, "Which I thought was completely wrong, but then I thought about how much I want to be with you at all times and not with those stupid dates who, clearly, have no interest in me."

"So, yes, maybe I suffer from whatever the wor-"

"Cingulomania."

"Yes, that," I pointed at him, "And, so what if sometimes I want to hold your hand or feel what's like to be in your arms. Or, I don't know."

Steve brought a hand out and lowered my arms. I guess I had taken after Robin by waving my hands around when speaking. "I think you're hanging out with Robin too much because you almost poked my eye," Steve joked. I chuckled, feeling my cheeks turn to a light shade of pink.

He laced his hand with mine and kissed the top of my hand. "You don't have another date soon, right?" Steve said. "Nope," I shook my head while speaking. He smirked, leaning his head down to kiss me.

He pulled me closer by the waist, my grip on my water bottle slipping. Steve caught it before it fell on my foot. I felt him smirk against my lips and set the water bottle on the rickety cart behind me. Steve pulled away first, the smile on his freckled face never leaving.

"I don't think I suffer from cingulomania anymore," I said. "Good, that's good," he nodded, leaning down to kiss me again.

Taglist: @b-ritney @ramaalkayyali @midnightstar-90 @nix-rose

#stranger things #stranger things season one #stranger things season two #stranger things season three #stranger things season four #steve harrington #steve harrington x-readers #steve harrington x-reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagines

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