#(it was through the same sports program)

[tittyinfinity]

I just remembered that up until 5th grade, all of the sports teams I was in weren't separated by gender. I played basketball and baseball with boys. And we did just fine.

It wasn't until 6th grade when they segregated it by gender. It didn't make sense to me. I was now in softball instead of baseball, because "softball is for girls" and "baseball is for boys" (which confused me bc my dad was on an adult softball team).

Now, my brother's all-male team didn't win a single game. My all-girls team won every single one.

They presented the boys' team with this HUGE trophy, and if you wanted replicas of it, they were $30 each.

My team was presented with a very small trophy. Extras were $5.

That's when I decided gender-segregated sports were bullshit.

[ratatatastic]

ngl its absolutely crazy how much winning a cup has rewritten history and the narrative™ because hearing "theres nothing negative you can say about being a florida panther" NOW. KEY WORD ON NOW. Because this absolutely was not the fucking case even since the franchises inception like even this year yall were making fun of our attendance numbers despite them being one of the best theyve ever been LIKE HUH. WHAT DID WE FORGET THE WHOLE SOFLO IS NOT A HOCKEY MARKET WE SHOULD MOVE THIS FRANCHISE. WE'RE BEGGING PEOPLE TO FILL THE LOWER BOWL. OH I FEEL BAD FOR SASHA AND EKKY FOR BEING DOOMED TO A FRANCHISE. THIS PLACE IS AN EMBARRASMENT. ETC. are we forgetting all that. are we just not going to acknowledge that.

[not-gray-politics]

!!!!

“If a society puts half its children into short skirts and warns them not to move in ways that reveal their panties, while putting the other half into jeans and overalls and encouraging them to climb trees, play ball, and participate in other vigorous outdoor games; if later, during adolescence, the children who have been wearing trousers are urged to “eat like growing boys,” while the children in skirts are warned to watch their weight and not get fat; if the half in jeans runs around in sneakers or boots, while the half in skirts totters about on spike heels, then these two groups of people will be biologically as well as socially different. Their muscles will be different, as will their reflexes, posture, arms, legs and feet, hand-eye coordination, and so on. Similarly, people who spend eight hours a day in an office working at a typewriter or a visual display terminal will be biologically different from those who work on construction jobs. There is no way to sort the biological and social components that produce these differences. We cannot sort nature from nurture when we confront group differences in societies in which people from different races, classes, and sexes do not have equal access to resources and power, and therefore live in different environments. Sex-typed generalizations, such as that men are heavier, taller, or stronger than women, obscure the diversity among women and among men and the extensive overlaps between them… Most women and men fall within the same range of heights, weights, and strengths, three variables that depend a great deal on how we have grown up and live. We all know that first-generation Americans, on average, are taller than their immigrant parents and that men who do physical labor, on average, are stronger than male college professors. But we forget to look for the obvious reasons for differences when confronted with assertions like ‘Men are stronger than women.’ We should be asking: ‘Which men?’ and ‘What do they do?’ There may be biologically based average differences between women and men, but these are interwoven with a host of social differences from which we cannot disentangle them.”

— Ruth Hubbard, “The Political Nature of ‘Human Nature’“ (via gothhabiba)

Yes.

[soupblr]

.

[rxmye]

" 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 . . . "

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊 — Lucas Raine . . introduction | masterlist | requesting rules . . warnings : nsfw content / sixteen + content / gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / voyeurism kink / yandere jock / yandere content / pathetic / submissive(?) yandere /

Appearance: Lucas is pale (he's korean american) and a brunette, with light brown hair which is curly and cut in a mullet—which is almost always styled—he has a personal obsession with skin care (thanks to his ma) and he has glass skin. Lucas has vieny and large hands, along with a large physique that appears to be very overbearing to those around him—with a skinny waist—he stands at an outstanding 6,2ft. Lucas has hazel eyes, and during golden hour he'll stare at the sun and challenge it to a duel (he'll always fail), he often wears silver bracelets and has ears piercings, though he'll rarely wear earrings.

Character basic info: Lucas's birthday is on November the 3rd! He is bisexual, he has a hard time connecting with people, and has had a scarce amount of serious relationships, he usually loses interest fast, he's unamused and finds love repetitive and somewhat boring. Lucas is a possessive, obsessive, clingy, stalker type of yandere, who is somewhat dependent on you, not at much as Yoichi though.

backstory: Lucas is currently attending University for a degree in mechanical engineering and business, he got in through a sports scholarship, though he plans on becoming an athlete and is currently looking into it. Lucas is actually adopted, with two mom's, he calls them mom and ma respectively. His mom is a famous lawyer who is a perfectionist at heart, which seemed to have rubbed off on him as a result of observing her so much (he'd often read and do homework in her office). Lucas's ma on the other hand, put him in a whole lot of sports and afterschool programs, mainly because she wanted him to not be too feminine—and because she wanted him to try as many new things as possible. His parents can be a bit overbearing, but his childhood was decently comfortable, his parents were more than involved in his life and he couldn't be more grateful.

NSFW | 16 + CONTENT BELOW THE UNDERCUT . . .

Lucas is a switch, with an extremely high sex drive, he's a power bottom—he'll whine and nag as you have him pinned under you—he cries so easily, fucking into you, your insides so warm and soft—he's obsessed, he'll overstimulate you both, and leave you both a crying and sticky mess!!

As a top, Lucas is either rough or gentle, there's no in-between, he loves loves loves taking his time with you—savoring you—watching your face contort into pleasure as he has his way with you, his nails digging into your soft thighs, his mouth on your neck.

Lucas might have a small voyeurism kink—in the sense that he loses control around you, with you, to the sheer thought of you—you're like the off-switch to rationality, he seriously forgets where he is!! He can't help but grow—a little touchy, flirty, needy—the way your hands ghost over his own makes his knees weak!!—he really can't help it, if he's being a little out of hand . . if you didn't like it, you'd tell him to stop!!!

Lucas loves hickies, both receiving them and giving them . . . especially receiving them—mark him, make him your territory, he loves you, he loves being yours . . your hands on him are a delight, the feeling of your lips, teeth, saliva, on his skin is paradise, your marks—he wears them with sheer pride.

Kink-wise Lucas is into anything, he's very calm and open with anything, nothing is really a turn off for him . . spit on him, kick him, tie him down . . he doesn't mind!! . . Though he will be a bit more wary of doing the same to you . .

NON-NSFW HEADCANONS

Lucas's love languages are physical touch and acts of service, he'll have your favorite drink ready for you, every morning. He'll make handmade treats just for you—anything for you . .

Lucas collects small trinkets, and he has a special box filled with things he thinks you'd like—he's a bit embarrassed about it, it just seems very unlikely that someone like Lucas would collect trinkets, so he's a tinsy bit worried you'll judge him—which is weird since he's never really cared about anyone's opinion before you.

Lucas will get you to meet his parents pretty early onto any relationship, he just finds that if his parents like you, then it's a good sign beforehand, he's actually done this to all his friends and though he knows he'll marry you, and that you're the one . . . he wants you to meet the people who made him who he is now!

Lucas does have a note on his phone of the names of his future kids with you, and yes . . he does slightly plan on taking your last name . . . maybe. . possibly . . no comment.

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[lqvesoph]

A thin line between love and hate || LN4

landonorris x fewtrell!reader

enemies to lovers, brother’s best friend

Summary: Through your brother’s friendship with Lando Norris, your families have been interwined for as long as you can remember. Seven years had passed since you last saw your brother’s best friend, and you were thankful because he really was one huge pain in the ass. But now your families decided to go on vacation together, where the tension between the two of you shifts

Part 2

1.7k words

masterlist

Prologue

The bright, golden sunlight of the Amalfi Coast gleamed off the crystal-clear waters below as you stepped out onto the villa’s terrace, inhaling the salty sea air. It had been seven years since the last family vacation, but the memories were as sharp as if they’d happened yesterday: pranks, endless teasing, and the way Lando Norris always seemed to get under your skin. You’d vowed to keep your distance this time. You weren’t the same timid teenager he used to torment.

Yet here he was.

You spotted him as soon as the familiar sound of his laugh carried through the open patio doors. Leaning casually against the doorway, his grin as infuriating as ever, he looked taller, broader—more grown-up, sure—but the glint in his eye said some things never changed.

Sure you hadn’t gotten around him in the past years. Ever since the obnoxious asshole made it to Formula 1, you saw him everywhere. Stores, ads, social media. Even some of your friends were F1 fans, which forced you to listen to countless of hours of them discussing the sport, and him, and on top of that watch some of the races.

Though the last time you saw him in person must’ve been seven years ago, when you were freshly 14 years old and he had just been signed to the Young Drive program of Mclaren.

He looked up, catching your eye, and his smirk deepened.

“Bambi-” He started but then paused. “No, wait. You’re taller now.” He tilted his head, feigning thought. “Bambi’s mum? Nah, Bambi still fits best.”

You scowled, tugging at the hem of your flower sundress. “Lando.”

“Y/n,” he replied smoothly, pushing off the doorframe and strolling toward you, his strut more pronounced than you remembered. “Seven years, huh? You missed me.”

“I missed the silence,” you shot back, refusing to let him rattle you.

Your brother, Max, appeared just then, slinging an arm around Lando’s shoulders. “Behave, mate,” Max said with a laugh. “Y/n’s got a sharper tongue these days. She might actually kill you if you try anything.”

Lando raised his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t falter. “Me? Misbehave? Never.”

“Let’s get down to the beach!”, Max interrupted your starring contest, slapping Lando’s shoulder twice before turning him around and leading him out of the room.

You sighed.

This will be a long three weeks.

As the evening stretched on, the sense of unease lingered, twisting and turning in your chest. Lando wasn’t acting the way he used to, and that subtle shift in his demeanor unsettled you more than you cared to admit. The teasing was still there, but it wasn’t aimed to sting. It was sharper in a way that didn’t cut; instead, it grazed, danced along the edge of something you couldn’t quite name.

He wasn’t just present—he was attentive. Too attentive. His every move felt deliberate, almost calculated, though not in a cold way. It was something warmer, something charged. You felt it when his gaze caught yours and lingered just a second too long, his blue eyes betraying an intensity that wasn’t there before. The casual air of indifference he used to carry seemed to have melted away, leaving behind something… intentional. Something directed entirely at you.

It wasn’t just his words, either. His presence was louder now, even in the quiet moments. You could feel him, could sense him, even when he wasn’t directly engaging you. Like a static charge in the air, subtle but undeniable. His movements seemed deliberate in a way that only made you more aware of him. The brush of his fingers as he passed you a drink, the casual way his knee bumped yours under the table, the glint of something unreadable in his eyes when they caught yours across the room—all of it felt deliberate.

And that smile. That maddening, crooked smile. It wasn’t as smug as it used to be, wasn’t as cocky. There was something more controlled in it now, something that made your chest tighten every time it flickered your way. You hated that you noticed. Hated that it made your breath catch, that it made your heart race even as you told yourself it was nothing.

And then there were the small moments—fleeting yet impossible to ignore. When his fingers brushed yours as he passed you the glass, he didn’t pull away quickly, letting the touch hang between you. Or when he leaned in close, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you as he murmured something playful into your ear, his voice low, almost intimate. It sent a shiver down your spine, one you couldn’t attribute to the evening chill.

The air between you felt different tonight—charged, heavy with something unnamed. Every glance, every stray touch felt like it meant more than it should. You wanted to dismiss it, to brush it off as your imagination running wild, but you couldn’t. Not when the warmth of his gaze lingered even after you looked away, not when his presence seemed to carve itself into your awareness with an infuriating

You hated how aware of him you’d become. How you caught yourself stealing glances when you thought he wasn’t looking, only to find his eyes already on you. He wasn’t just a presence anymore; he was magnetic, drawing your attention even when you didn’t want to give it. The lines of his face were sharper now, his boyishness replaced with something more defined, more grown-up. It was unfair, really, how he’d managed to grow into himself like this—effortless yet entirely deliberate, the golden light from the villa’s windows framing him as if the universe had designed this exact moment to make you falter.

And you were faltering. The banter didn’t sting the way it used to because it wasn’t meant to. There was no malice, no underlying competition—only something softer, something far more dangerous.

You felt exposed under his gaze, like he could see more of you than you were willing to show. It wasn’t just annoyance anymore, and that realization hit you harder than you expected. It was something deeper, something that twisted in your stomach and clawed at the walls you’d built to keep him out.

You didn’t know what to call it yet, but it scared you. It scared you because you didn’t want it—and yet you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from falling into it.

The teasing had always been a game between you, a back-and-forth you could handle. But this? This wasn’t the same game.

It wasn’t annoyance anymore, or at least, it wasn’t just annoyance. It was something else entirely. Something you weren’t sure you could handle. Something that made you want to run, but also made it impossible to look away.

This was something else entirely, and it left you unsteady, unsure of the rules, unsure if you even wanted to play.

You were too busy scolding yourself for the thought to realize he’d caught you looking. When you finally glanced his way again, his eyes were already on you, his lips quirking into that maddening smirk. Heat flooded your cheeks as you snapped your gaze down to your plate.

“Everything okay over there, Bambi?” His voice was low enough that only you could hear, his tone laced with amusement.

Your grip on your fork tightened, and you didn’t look up. “Fine,” you muttered. “Just wondering how you’ve managed to stay so insufferable after all these years.”

Lando leaned back in his chair, clearly delighted. “Talent, I guess.”

Your blood boiled, as you accidentally clashed your fork against your plate, making both of your parents look at you.

“Behave you two, you’re adults now,” your mum intervened before you could say something. Lando raised his hands in defense. “I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise. Can’t speak for little Bambi here tho,” he smirked, causing you to kick his leg underneath the table.

But it wasn’t just anger anymore, and that realization left you even more off balance. The villa’s warm, sunlit glow felt stifling now, the air charged with a tension you couldn’t place. Lando might still be obnoxious, but there was something new in the way he looked at you. Something that made it harder to hold onto the image of him as the boy who used to torment you.

And that unsettled you more than anything else.

part 2

[axeeglitter]

Back from the Vault: Alexa

“What do you mean you forgot your passport?!” asked Simon through his phone.

“I don’t know dude; I was sure I had it but I can’t find it anywhere. Can you go and check in my room if I didn’t put it on my desk or somewhere else, please?”

“Alright, I’m on my way, but dude, really, you have to be more careful!”

Simon and Michael had been roommates for almost four years now. They’d been paired together in their first year of uni, and since they were getting along pretty well and their shared bedroom was small, they decided to look for an apartment together. Things turned out great, and they’ve shared the same apartment since then. When they met, Simon was pretty shy and lacked confidence, but thanks to Michael, he really came out of his shell and found the courage to live fully. He started going to the gym, taking care of himself, and making some friends along the way. He even managed to find someone he found attractive. They just started dating a few weeks ago, and he hoped he would manage to bring his love interest home while Michael was away.

Michael had always been the more outgoing of the two. Always chatting and laughing with everyone, his big dumb smile plastered on his face, letting his perfect white teeth shine and illuminate his face. Sure, Michael wasn’t the brightest student, and even though he preferred working out to spending his evenings studying, he still did everything he could to succeed in his studies and at his part-time job as a bartender. He also managed to have some free time to play video games, practice sports, and, most of all, play with the parameters of his Alexa.

When Michael saw the ad for Alexa’s new features a couple of years ago, he fell in love with the concept. The first thing he did when they both got the apartment was to put Alexa everywhere in the house. Simon was a bit skeptical about this artificial intelligence listening to them all the time, but Michael was so happy. Michael couldn’t stop having fun with his new toy. Alexa turned the volume up, Alexa lit up the kitchen. Alexa added ketchup to the grocery list. As time passed, Simon got used to it and didn’t even realize it was there anymore.

“Ok dude, I’m in your bedroom. Damn, you could have cleaned up a bit; for fuck’s sake, there are dirty underwear and socks everywhere! Gross!”

“Sorry bro, was in a bit of a hurry. I thought my flight was tomorrow, not today! Listen, my passport should be somewhere around my desk. I remember taking it out and putting it on my desk to finish packing. Look around if it’s not there, please.”

“Okay, hold on, putting the speakers on,” Simon said as he clicked on the button to activate it and turned the volume all the way up before placing his phone on the desk.

“You sure you put it there? I can’t find it anywhere, dude!”

“Yes, I am! It must be somewhere around. Take a look on my nightstand,” Michael said, half-listening to what his friend was saying as he was stressed and still searching for it in his backpack.

VOICE DETECTED

“Bro, I can’t find it anywhere. I don’t know where you’ve pu… What the fuck? What was that?” said Simon, not understanding where the voice was coming from. “Dude, did you just say something?” Simon asked again, waiting for an answer.

INTRUDER PROTOCOL ACTIVATED… STARTING INTRUDER PROTECTION PROGRAM

As Simon heard this voice again, he heard a beeping sound coming from Michael’s computer. Suddenly, the screens lit up with a weird-looking graphic. Simon tried to understand what was happening, still asking if this was a prank from Michael. “Dude, can you hear me? I don’t know what you are up to, but it’s not funny. You know what? Fuck you, I’m out of here!” said Simon as he started walking out of the messy bedroom.

“Bro, I know, maybe it’s in the closet!” answered Michael, not listening to what his bro was saying and still looking for it in his suitcase.

All of a sudden, Simon felt something grabbing his right ankle. He tilted his head only to realize his foot was stuck in some kind of cable knot. He smiled a bit, thinking all of this was getting on his nerves, but as a shy laugh escaped his mouth, the knot tightened on its own, and another cable wrapped around Simon’s left ankle. Then they started pulling him. Simon fell on his butt right onto a pile of dirty jockstraps and used socks. The cables resumed their pulling. Simon tried to resist, but it wasn’t working.

“Michael, help!!” he screamed loud and clear, but Michael had put his phone away as he was asking about his passport to his family.

“HELP ME!!” Simon screamed once again as he was dragged across the dirty floor. Then it all stopped. He was not moving anymore. His ankles were still tied to the cables, and as he tried to get back up, he heard a whipping sound and turned his head just in time to see two new cables grab his wrists and tie them up too before spreading them apart, resulting in Simon being held down against his will in the middle of Michael’s dirty bedroom floor.

“Michael, help me!” screamed Simon again, and this time Michael answered just as the voice started talking again.

INTRUDER NEUTRALIZED… WAITING APPROVAL TO START INTRUDER PROTECTION PROGRAM…

“YES!” screamed Michael from afar. “I knew I had packed it!” Michael’s voice got louder as he got his phone back to his ear. “Sorry bro, I’ve found it! My mom was keeping it and didn’t tell me. Sorry! I’ll catch you in a month after my family trip. I’ll grab you something from Disney World, bro. See you!” And with that, Michael hung up on Simon.

MASTER4S VOICE DETECTED… STARTING PROTOCOLS IN 3…2…1…

Simon was terrified. He couldn’t move, and now his only hope, Michael, had just hung up on him. As he realized he would have to find a way to free himself on his own, the cables started to tense again, pulling his limbs a bit more until his legs and arms were outstretched. Now he couldn’t move at all anymore.

STARTING SCANNING AND BACKUP PROTOCOL…

Simon lay there, immobile and jerking as much as he could in the hope of untying one of the knots when he saw a new cable starting to move on its own. It undulated on the floor in Simon’s direction, and as it got near his head, it floated in the air above him. There it stood just long enough for Simon to see it. It was different from the ones holding him down. This one had a device plugged into it, looking like something used for scanning. As Simon thought about that, the device turned itself on and illuminated Simon’s body in a blue hue, going from the tip of his feet to his head. As it scanned along, Simon saw a weird blue holographic square pattern projected onto him.

“What the fuck is all of this?” thought Simon as the device finished its work.

INTRUDER SCAN FINISHED… SAVING OF THE DATA… DATA SAVED… RESUMING PROTOCOL…

Simon heard again. Suddenly, the scanning device lit up again, but this time it was not a blue light. This time it was red. It started scanning all over his body again, but Simon felt like something was heating all around him. As he felt this weird but not painful sensation, he realized he was feeling something on his right ankle. He lifted his head only to see that wherever the red light touched, his clothes were disintegrating. His socks and brand-new Air Forces were already gone, and now he watched as his favorite pair of jeans was getting destroyed right in front of his eyes. Simon screamed and moved as much as he could in every direction, hoping to stop all of this, but it was not working. Worse, the voice started again.

INTRUDER NOT STANDING STILL, SPEEDING UP PROCESS BY 50%

Simon watched in fear as he felt his whole body getting naked faster. With the blink of an eye, Simon was standing there, tied up and naked on the floor. “Please, make it stop. I’m Michael’s roommate. I’m not an intruder. I live here!” Simon tried to talk with Alexa, but the only response he heard froze him in terror.

VOICEPRINT INCORRECT… RESUMING PROTOCOL IN 3…2…1…

As he heard those words, he saw new cables flying from every corner of the room. They were like snakes ready to strike, and the only thing he could do as he saw them freezing in place waiting for orders was close his eyes as tears built up on his cheeks.

Suddenly, all the cables jumped onto his body. He felt them plugging into his biceps, forearms, pecs, abs, and legs. He even felt some getting plugged into his fingers and soles. Simon was in excruciating pain. It felt like he was being stabbed all over his body at once. Just as he was about to faint, he heard the voice again.

MODIFICATION PROCESS STARTING IN 3…2…1…

Simon felt all the cables attached to him vibrating harder and harder. It was like his whole body was being shaken. His nerves were on fire, and he felt like he was about to be torn apart. Tears of pain streamed down his cheeks as he suddenly felt an electric shock inside his body. He was in such pain that he couldn’t even turn his head to see what was happening to him.

Just before Michael left for his family vacation, he received a notification on his Amazon account about a new version of Alexa. Being Michael, he jumped on the opportunity and upgraded it right away, without paying much attention to the modifications. The only new feature he was interested in was the “Intruder Protection Program” and its assimilation feature. “Cool,” he thought, “Just before leaving for a month, this new version is released. What perfect timing!”

Once the download was done, Alexa needed information to register who was welcome and who was considered an intruder. Michael did so and, just as he finished entering his information and was about to input Simon’s details, Alexa reminded him that his flight was leaving in 4 hours. Surprised, Michael jumped out of his desk, packed as much as he could into his backpack and suitcase, and rushed to meet his family at the airport, not realizing he never entered Simon’s information into Alexa’s database.

Simon lay frozen in pain on the dirty floor as he felt his bones cracking and compressing. He heard cracking everywhere, and at some point, he thought maybe all of this was a nightmare and he was about to wake up. But what jolted him from this thought was the excruciating pain in his feet. Simon felt his size 39 feet starting to grow longer until they were now a size 45 and a half. The pain was awful. He fell as his toes elongated and became more articulated. It felt like he had more movement in them than before. Then the same happened with his hands, and it was too much for Simon’s pain tolerance. As he fainted from the pain, the changes didn’t stop. Once the bones were modified, Simon’s muscles were next.

All his muscles entered a vibration state. They grew larger and larger until his previous slim, athletic frame was replaced by that of a gym god. His muscles bulged in every direction. Once the muscles were done, the vibration moved to his head. His nose was the first to break into pieces before being remolded into a larger, less slim version. Then the same happened with his chin and brows. Once the bones were done, the muscles in his face also started to vibrate, resulting in a more angular, jockish face.

Then the scanning device came back to life and started scanning Simon’s fainted body with a green light. Every inch of skin touched by the light tanned to a healthy golden shade. Once done, the device turned a yellow light and focused on specific zones: the legs, armpits, head, chest, and most importantly, the pubic area. There, it started to light up and remained immobile on the skin until a certain number of hairs had sprouted. This resulted in Simon’s body having slightly hairy legs, chest and an imberb face (except for hair and brows), hairy armpits, and, most notably, curly brown pubes.

When all the hair had been scanned, the device focused back on Simon’s head and his eyes. This time, the device emitted a purple hue. Unbeknownst to Simon, his blue-gray eyes started to change until they were a warm brown color. The scanning device turned off and fell next to Simon’s head, only to be replaced by another cable with a peculiar apparatus at its end. It looked like a tube.

The cable started to undulate toward Simon’s crotch and then, out of nowhere, jumped onto his 5-inch cock and grape-sized balls. Alexa spoke again.

LOADING BACKED UP DATA…

The device began to suck harder and harder, and suddenly, Simon’s cut cock started to grow and harden. It grew bigger and bigger inside the tube until it was now an 8.5-inch uncut cock with huge testicles.

GENITALS MODIFIED…

The device detached itself and fell just between Simon’s legs. Simon’s body remained immobile for a couple of seconds before he slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was two huge pecs in front of his sight. He screamed and turned his head to the right and left, watching as his arms had also become huge.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he screamed, but the only response he got was another notification from Alexa.

BODY MODIFICATION PROTOCOL COMPLETE… STARTING THE ASSIMILATION PROTOCOL IN 3… 2… 1…

Simon watched in fear as a new cable appeared in his sight. This one looked similar to the others that had plugged into his body, but it stood right between his eyes. That’s when he understood what Alexa had just said.

“No, Alexa, stop! STOOOO…”

The cable jumped into the middle of Simon’s eyes and plugged itself directly into his brain. For Simon, it felt like a switch had been turned off. He was still feeling everything but couldn’t move anymore. It was like he was no longer there, and for a moment, he thought he might have died. Then he heard Alexa’s voice again, but this time it was clearer and louder, as if it were directly in his brain.

SAVING AND DUPLICATING INTRUDER’S INFORMATION

Simon felt like something was off. It felt like he was being scanned deeply, and then suddenly, he felt himself falling into darkness. It was like falling into an endless pit of obscurity, and he couldn’t grab onto anything to stop his fall.

INTRUDER’S INFORMATION SCANNED AND SAVED… STARTING ASSIMILATION…

Simon stood in darkness, hearing Alexa’s voice but unable to move or react. He was frozen in time and floating in a dark place. Suddenly, right in front of him, he saw a bright, intense, and warming light. From all around, he saw movie clips floating toward it, merging together, making it grow bigger and stronger. Simon was forced to watch these clips until one caught his attention. It was a memory of himself and Michael playing Mario Kart. Simon remembered this night perfectly because it was when he realized Michael was a true friend, and he was happy and thankful to have him in his life. But it was strange because in his memories, he was on the right side of the sofa, not the left. It was as if the memory was mirrored. That’s when he realized.

“Wait, why am I watching myself playing Mario Kart in this clip? I should be looking at Michael, not myself!”

Simon panicked and tried to find another clip, only to see once again himself in front of his eyes, not Michael. Now he understood. Simon was not looking at his memories but Michael’s.

“ALEXA, STOP, PLEASE!” Simon screamed, but nothing happened. Instead, more and more movie clips merged in front of his eyes until the last one was Michael downloading the new version of Alexa called “Intruder Protection Program” in his room. Simon screamed as loud as he could, only to be cut short by Alexa once again.

ASSIMILATION DONE…

In the outside world, all the cables unplugged themselves and unknotted from Simon’s ankles and wrists.

Simon’s body lay sweaty and naked on the dirty floor for a couple of seconds before Alexa spoke once more.

INTRUDER PROTECTION PROGRAM TERMINATED… CAN I DO SOMETHING FOR YOU, MICHAEL?

Michael opened his eyes, and Simon watched, trapped inside his own brain, as his body betrayed him. He felt everything but couldn’t move anymore. He felt his body starting to blink before opening his mouth and speaking in a deeper voice, mimicking Michael’s.

“Nah bro! I’m good. Thanks, Alexa!”

With that, Michael’s body began to get up and realized he was naked. Worse, he was getting excited watching himself in the mirror.

“Well, guess I have to take care of you,” he said, gripping his huge veined cock before spitting on it and starting to pleasure himself.

Simon was in hell. He felt everything and couldn’t do anything to stop his body and this new Michael personality. Then he felt his body tense up and prepare to explode. He grabbed one of the dirty underwear on the floor, smelled it, laughed a bit, and said “Noice” before finishing himself in it. He then sat on the bed, the dirty jockstrap still stuck between his calloused hand and his hard cock.

The new Michael closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep.

TIME TO WAKE UP, MASTER, IT’S 8 AM, YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE…

Michael woke up with his dick still tucked inside the crusty jockstrap. He got up, looked at the time, and thanked Alexa. He looked around his bedroom to see what he was about to wear and only after 2 minutes of running naked did he realize he still had the jockstrap stuck to his cock. He laughed and grabbed it before putting it on. He then jumped into cargo sports shorts and a pair of well-used Nike socks before putting grabbing a red and white tank top under his arm and his favorite necklace.

As Michael left his bedroom, he screamed through the house.

“Simon bro, gonna be late, I’ll see you tonight!”

Before leaving, he never realized that Simon was, in fact, stuck in his own head, screaming for this nightmare to stop and for him to be freed.

As Michael closed the door and jumped into his car, Alexa started again.

MICHAEL OUT OF HOUSE… STARTING INTRUDER PROTECTION PROGRAM…

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

Hey guys, here is the first story I've retrieved from my vault. You may have already read this one a couple of months ago, but unfortunately, it got lost over time. So, I decided to post it again after refining it a bit and adding new pictures kindly created by @tf-vigilante for this story. As always, let me know what you think of it, and feel free to leave a like, share, or send me a message if you want to talk about this story or anything else :)

Let me know if you’d like to see a continuation of this story, as I have plans for Michael, Simon, and Alexa.

If you have any ideas or plots you'd like to discuss, feel free to send me an ask or a DM ;)

In the meantime, take care, and see you soon for more stories resurrected from my vault!

[rueclfer]

not a lot, just forever // oneshot part two

a/n: i remember talking about this on the timeline a couple of months ago and it has rotted in my brain ever since !!! happy birthday touya baby <3 i am ssssoooooo normal about you!!

keigo takami, touya todoroki, tomura shigaraki

it's been almost a year since touya had started his rehabilitation program, and here you were, like clockwork, willingly sharing his rock hard hospital-grade mattress with your head cushioned against his chest and the same chirpy attitude he couldn't quite understand how you mustered up this early in the morning.

"wanna go get breakfast?"

"no."

"wanna go on a walk?"

"no."

"wanna call fuyumi? mom? spinner? see what they're up to today?"

"no."

a beat of silence passes between you two.

you roll onto your front and prop yourself up onto your elbow, turning face to face with him.

"why do you always have to be so grumpy in the mornings?" you groan, bringing your hand up and swiping away at the stray tuffs of hair hung over his forehead from a night's worth of tossing and turning.

"told you 8am is a crazy time to come visit. every day, too." he scoffs, a slight smirk tugging on the corner of his lips as he reaches up and lazily drags a finger across your jaw. "don't you have better things to do?"

"you're lucky, visitation hours only start at 8am. i'd be with you 24/7 if i had it my way." you whisper, leaning into his hand. "connected by the hip, drinking from the same cup of water, you'd be sick of me in less than 48 hours, and i wouldn't care."

touya instinctively tries to pull away before you melt into his touch, eyes fluttering close for a moment as you release a heavy exhale in content.

the palm of his rough and scarred hand laid flush against the softness of your cheek. he barely has any feeling in his hands anymore, but somehow he feels everything.

this is the first time that question had crossed his mind, like a wild animal running across an unlit road. an audible laugh almost escapes his mouth.

he could only ever hope that you'd come back the next day.

the thought never leaves him. it's always lingering in the back of his head, followed by an internal scoff.

marriage doesn't mean anything. you two love each other, and that's all that matters. marriage is only paperwork. marriage doesn't equal love.

marriage doesn't equal love.

but sometimes it takes one look at you for him to get all choked up, and when this happens he thinks about telling you exactly how he feels. he wants to tell you how much he loves you. it hurts him to be left with no words that could amount to that feeling you give him, so instead he's left balling his fists and pressing the crescent of his nails into his palm trying to ease this ache in his chest.

years later, after touya had completed his program, you're overlooking the city from your shared apartment together.

you've been out running errands and he had spent the day in therapy and meeting with his siblings afterwards. naturally you'll find yourselves sitting across from one another on the fire escape chatting about your days through a shared cigarette and cup of tea.

you're looking out towards the distant city lights. touya's looking at you.

nothing much has changed.

you're sporting the same hoodie you snagged from his closet from what felt like an eternity ago. you picked up smoking thanks to his influence- but socially of course, as you'd like to correct him whenever he makes a snarky comment. you still can't bring yourself to toss that tattered blanket you left with him the first night the hospital staff allowed you to sleepover with him.

and for the millionth time since that morning a few years ago, that question crosses his mind again.

and for the first time, he doesn't roll his eyes or scoff at himself, but instead his mouth goes dry and the palms of his hands grow clammy.

you nudged his leg with your foot. "what're you thinking about, spacey?"

he's thinking about why you're still here. why do you still choose to come back? even after all those years ago when he was ready to leave you behind in this lifetime?

he's thinking about as long as you'll have him, he could spend his life with you doing exactly this. he'll deal with it all- the insufferably loud mornings, shameless PDA, the nagging, the babying, all of it. he doesn't mind at all.

"can i marry you?"

touya sucks in a sharp breath of air and presses his lips together in regret the second the words slip from his mouth.

"if you wanted to leave, you would've by now." he reminds himself- the only thought that'll keep him sane.

"really?" you exclaim, almost spitting out your tea.

touya looks back at you with wide eyes, the butt of the cigarette slipping from his fingers and onto the cold metal of fire escape, spewing sparks of ash against his leg.

a moment of silence passes. then two.

"what do you mean really?"

"you really want to marry me?" your smile grows into a wide grin, making his cheeks flush and stomach twist.

touya’s body moves without a second thought. he crawls over to you and perches himself on one knee. he feels like an idiot. he bites down on his lip in embarrassment as he takes your hand in his cold and rough palms, bringing your knuckles up to his lips.

"really," he mutters against your skin, his voice shaking, "if you’d let me.”

the question lingers in the air for another moment. years of thinking about this, and yet he was far from prepared. he should’ve taken you out. he should've gotten dressed up. he doesn’t even have a ring to give you.

tonight wasn't so different from any other night, but there was a burning ache in his chest that was desperate for that confirmation of forever with you- something that he couldn't have ever been ready for.

you lean forward and move your hand from his grasp to the side of his jaw where you pull him in. 

“you and me, touya. it's always going to be us.” you whisper before colliding your lips with his- sealing a silent promise to one another.

[robynhoodwrites]

˚｡❆ Rivals to Lovers ˚｡❆

Request: "Can I request a rivals to lovers fic (with smut if you will) about Zayne and MC where they live in a normal world, and they're both in med school?"

This will be written from the reader (aka the MC's) point of view. The MC will be AFAB, but will be referred to with they/them pronouns.

Minors DNI! This writing contains the following: smut, vaginal penetration, medical discussions, blood (in a medical setting), rivals to lovers, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, fellatio, switch!Zayne and switch!reader.

My heels clack loudly against the clean, tiled floors of the hospital. The sound echoes down the hallway, and I cringe internally at the fact that I’m practically announcing my presence. I hear a yawn sound from one of the receptionists behind me, hoping that the coffee now coursing through me is enough to keep me awake.

“Morning!” One of the nurses, Tara, smiles at me. She stops where she’s walking, seemingly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t have time right now!” I breathe, my heart pounding as I pick up the pace. She frowns slightly, her chest deflating. “We can meet for lunch later! Promise!” I yell behind me, and she just laughs and continues walking to where she’s going.

This meeting isn’t necessarily important, but I haven’t earned the title “overachiever” for nothing. If I make it earlier than everyone else, it shows initiative. And initiative means I’m better than the others, which means I get the internship, which means I get a good job in the future, which means-

I’m almost at the door when I notice Zayne across the hallway. We had been in the same medical program for the last year, but only recently has he become such a pain in my ass. It seemed like no matter what grade I got, he matched it (or, God forbid, his was higher). It had become somewhat of an unspoken competition between us to see who would end up on top.

He seems to notice me, his eyes meeting mine from the other side of the hall. He looks at the door and then back at me before speeding up, his eyes now sporting a determined glare. I do the same, the clacking of my heels reaching insane speeds.

Even with the newfound speed, I am nowhere as fast as Zayne. Screw these stupid heels and Zayne’s long ass legs. I’m right behind him when he throws open the door, letting it start to close behind him as he enters the conference room before me.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” I mutter, and he seems to hear me, chuckling to himself.

“Zayne, nice to see you here bright and early,” our boss, Dr. Jenna says. Her eyes then flick to me, smiling. “Oh, and good to see you here early, too. You two have some real initiative.”

I silently thank the universe that coming in second has not put a blot on my record. It’s then that Zayne puts down his backpack, producing a coffee from the cupholder sewn to the side of it. “You like the cold brew, right?” he asks, handing her the coffee.

“Aw, Zayne, you shouldn’t have!” Jenna smiles, grabbing the drink from his hand and taking a sip with a content look on her face. Fuck, that’s genius. Why didn’t I think of that?

“Of course, Doctor Jenna. I cannot imagine how tired you must be, considering the fact that you’re working and taking the time to teach us. I don’t know how you do it,” Zayne gushes, and Jenna just smiles wider and thanks him before going back to writing on the whiteboard.

Zayne turns back to where I am standing, a stupid smirk lining his face. He sticks up two hands, one making the shape of a “zero” and the other creating a “one”.

Zayne: 1. Me: 0.

He winks as he goes to sit in his spot in the front row. Other students finally begin filing in, and I rush to take my spot in the front next to Zayne. “Really laying it on thick, huh?” I mutter, and he chuckles again.

“Maybe if you did the same, you wouldn’t be losing,” he whispers back, reclining in his chair nonchalantly.

“I don’t need to kiss ass. My superior doctoring skills will get me that internship,” I tease, mockingly reclining like him. He shows no sign that he’s noticed, instead deciding to unpack his notebook and pencil from his backpack.

“The points are saying otherwise,” he responds, opening his notebook to a fresh page. He writes down our names at the top of the page, putting a tally mark next to his own.

“That’s what this is to you? A game?” I ask, huffing out a breath of frustration. “There are 5 spots for the internship. We can both get it! There’s no need to fight me for it.” I am thoroughly enjoying the competition, but it’s not as fun when I’m the one that’s losing.

“I am not going to settle for mediocrity. I want to get chosen for the internship not just because she wants me there, but because she needs me there,” he tells me, stating it like it’s a fact. I suppose I understand that, but I am never going to let him hear me admit that.

“Where did this vanity come from, Zayne? I swear, you seemed so docile when I met you last year,” I tease. Rather than answer me, he looks down at the paper in front of him. “Or do you only act vain when you’re threatened? Am I a threat to you, Zayne?”

He doesn't respond. In fact, he acts like he hasn't heard me. Instead, he sticks out his hand, seeming to be asking for a handshake. “May the best doctor win,” he says confidently, and I grasp his hand firmly. It’s strangely warm, his long fingers holding my own tightly.

“I will,” I say back, letting go of his hand and turning to face the board. Before he can say something in retaliation, Doctor Jenna clears her throat and the class goes silent.

⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚ ⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆｡

By the last 10 minutes of class, I’ve nearly filled three pages with notes, front and back. The notes are nowhere near clean or pretty looking, but they’ll work for when I’m studying later. Dr. Jenna has started reviewing some of the information from the last class, which means I can zone out for a moment and let my brain take a break.

I spin my pen in my fingers, my eyes blurred as I think about absolutely nothing for the first time in a while. The peace doesn’t last, though. I hear a small rustle in front of me and look down to see a folded sheet of notebook paper.

I turn to look at Zayne, the most likely suspect. However, he’s looking straight ahead at the board in a focused manner, his eyes not meeting mine. I look back down at the paper curiously, finally relenting and unfolding it in front of me.

The paper has a messy stick figure drawing on the top, showing a tall man with dark hair and glasses holding a trophy. It’s nowhere near artist quality, but something about it makes me chuckle. I glance over at Zayne, who can’t help the smile now spreading across his face.

I click open my pen, drawing my own stick figure masterpiece under his. I surround his drawing with a thought bubble before drawing a picture of Zayne sleeping soundly underneath. Under his sleeping stick figure, I write “In your dreams!” before folding the paper neatly and handing it back to him.

He hesitates for a moment, waiting until Jenna’s back is turned before carefully unfolding the drawing. He snorts, covering his mouth with his hand quickly. I just keep looking forward at the whiteboard, listening to him hastily scribble on the paper before sliding it back to me.

I roll my eyes, unfolding the paper yet again. Zayne’s familiar, neat writing lines the page underneath my drawing. “You’re one to talk about dreams. What are you daydreaming about over there while Dr. Jenna teaches?”

He noticed that?  I feel a weird flutter in my chest, but I push it down as I write my own message underneath his. “Just plotting my victory,” I write, checking to make sure Jenna’s back is turned before handing it to him.

A moment passes before the note lands back on my desk, the paper filled with more of Zayne’s neat, looping letters. “If you spend all class thinking about how to beat me, you’ll never pass your tests.”

I write back quickly, my messy scrawl in stark contrast to Zayne’s clear writing. “And if you spend all class staring at me, you’ll never get the internship.” I pass the note back to Zayne, keeping my eyes glued to the board as he takes in a sharp breath. He hesitates, slowly writing his next response before going to pass it back to me.

“Zayne, no passing notes in class. Put it away,” Jenna snaps, and I see Zayne’s face go pale. He crumples up the note, throwing it into his backpack. He mutters an apology under his breath, his pale face now growing a deep shade of red.

“Yeah, Zayne, I’m trying to learn,” I say, loud enough for Jenna to hear. She nods, throwing Zayne another sharp look before turning back to the board. Zayne shoots me a glare, his jaw clenched in annoyance. I wink at him, before shooting a quick glance at the board to see if Jenna is looking.

When her back is turned, I lean in closer to him, delighting in the quick breath he sucks in. I bring my pen to the top of his paper, adding a point under my name. “One to one,” I whisper, before leaning back and letting my focus return to the board.

⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚ ⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆｡

I yawn as I put some quarters into the vending machine, watching as it shoots an energy drink down towards the bottom. I grab it, quickly opening it and gulping down as much as I can. It was nearly the end of my shift, and a long day of shadowing doctors has left an ache in my feet and a pain in my back. I can’t wait to go home and sleep…

“Hey,” I hear a familiar voice say from behind me, and I turn to see Zayne standing impatiently behind me. I gulp, pulling the energy drink away from my mouth and thinking of what to say to the intimidating man in front of me.

 In class, he is just like any other student. But, when working in the clinic, he’s… different. His lab coat perfectly frames his tall figure, his glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. He’s always sitting when he's in class, but during clinic duty, he towers over me.

“Listen, I’m sorry for throwing you under the bus. I didn’t-” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“I’m not here about that. Well played, by the way,” he admits, and I feel that flutter in my chest again. “Jenna wants us in her office. Wants our opinion on something before we clock out.”

I nod, unable to stop a relieved breath from leaving my lungs. I chug down the rest of my energy drink, crushing the can in my hands before throwing it away. He chuckles and turns to walk towards the office. I follow close behind, not too keen on letting him beat me to something again.

When we finally reach the office, he pauses a moment before going in. Then, much to my surprise, he holds the door open for me. I just stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he could possibly gain from this.

“It’s not a trick,” he says reassuringly. “I just want to be a bit kind to you before I wipe the floor with you in this consult.” There it is. I stick out my tongue at him, not caring how childish I look. He shakes his head as I walk past him, muttering something about good sportsmanship.

Jenna is waiting for us in her office, a whiteboard standing on stilts in front of her as she chews on the end of her pen. When we enter, she turns to us with a smile on her face. A few more students pile in behind us and Jenna begins writing on the whiteboard.

“Alright, students. We had a patient come in with a hurt leg. She presents with hypersensitivity to touch as well as tendonitis and high calcium,” Jenna explains, writing the symptoms on the whiteboard in front of her. She pauses, turning back around to face us. “What do we do?”

“It could be an adenoma,” Zayne offers, and I curse myself for not being quick enough.

“That’s true, but it could be a multitude of things. Maybe kidney problems or a vitamin D intoxication?” I offer, and Jenna writes all of our suggestions down on the whiteboard.

“True, but I think the adenoma is still the best option. If not that, it could also be hyperthyroidism,” Zayne shoots back, and Jenna writes hyperthyroidism on the board. I begin to hit him with another response, but Jenna interrupts before I can.

“I believe an adenoma is the most likely cause. Good work, Dr. Zayne. What should we do with this information?” Jenna asks us, and I nearly punch Zayne when he speaks before I can.

“We’ll have to test her blood for PTH, phosphorus, and ionized calcium.”

“Very good, Zayne,” Jenna says, before turning to me. “And if those tests come back normal, we’ll start on your theory. Good work to you both,” she says, circling “adenoma” on the whiteboard. Zayne shoots me a sly smile, now holding up a two on one hand and a one on the other. I flip him off, and he chuckles to himself.

“Since the labs are closed for the night, they’ll have to process the blood in the morning. I’ll page you guys as soon as I get the results,” Jenna says, waving a hand to dismiss us. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

We all file out of the office, and I pause in the hallway for a moment. If I test the blood tonight, it will get her the results faster. And, more importantly, it will make me look amazing…

I turn down the hallway, my heels clacking against the tiled floors once again as I quickly make my way down to the lab. I scan my card against the door, sighing in relief when I notice that the lab is empty. I throw my backpack down on a chair, hurrying to the refrigerator at the back of the room and quickly scanning for the right vial.

The door swings open behind me, somebody else rushing in before pausing in shock. “Shit!” The voice mutters, and I turn to find Zayne in front of me, his eyes narrowed. “I should’ve known you would have the same idea,” he seethes, and I smile at the annoyed look on his face. He throws his backpack down, his notebook and a few papers spilling out onto the ground as he moves closer to me.

“You may have had the same idea, but I came up with it first,” I tell him, clutching the vial of blood in my hands. I turn and close the door to the fridge and when I turn back around, Zayne is much closer than before. I attempt to move away, but he blocks me in with his arms.

“Give me the vial,” he practically orders, and I can’t help but scoff at him.

“Wow, you really are a sore loser. Whatever happened to ‘may the best doctor win’?” I ask, and he doesn’t react. Rather than relent, he just sits there with his arms trapping me against the refrigerator. “Zayne?” I ask, now breathing a bit heavily under the man's piercing gaze.

In a moment of courage I did not know I possessed, I lean forward on my tiptoes until my mouth is next to his ear. “You lost this round. Let it go,” I whisper, and I swear he isn’t breathing as I lower myself back to my original position. He stays for a moment longer before finally letting his arms fall to rest at his sides.

I exhale a breath that I didn’t know I was holding, finally relaxing my tense shoulders. Zayne walks over to one of the counters, quickly putting on gloves before walking over to the machine sitting in the corner.

“Zayne, what are you doing?” I ask, and he doesn’t look up as he begins removing tools from the drawer next to him.

“Oh, just cleaning the centrifuge. It’s been a while since anyone has really given it a good scrub down.”

I pause, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from cursing him out. “Zayne, that’s the machine I need to use,” I say through gritted teeth. Zayne looks up at me from where he is disassembling the machine, false shock covering his face.

“Oh, is it? What a shame. Looks like you’ll have to do those tests tomorrow, instead.” He goes back to disassembling the centrifuge, a small (and annoying) smile now spreading across his face.

“You absolutely childish-” I begin, stopping to take a breath before I say something worse. I let out a sigh, rubbing my temples as I let my temper cool. “We’ll do the tests together. Share the credit. Is that good enough for you?” I groan, and he stops what he’s doing to face me.

“That’s an incredible idea. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it,” he says mockingly, and I nearly spit on him out of anger. This manipulative, conniving… He starts putting the machine back together, and I walk over to where he is standing to put the vial on a stand next to him.

“This is so incredibly unfair,” I whine, and he chuckles to himself. He turns to face me yet again, his eyes staring daggers into me from only inches away.

“You started this when you threw me under the bus in class, you know.” I suppose I deserve that. He finishes reassembling the machine, putting the vial in and pressing a button on the front. The centrifuge starts with a beep, and the blood begins spinning in its vial.

 I don’t say anything, moving away from him to grab some supplies from the cabinet above me. My attempt to reach the pipettes on the top shelf is in vain, and I stand on my tiptoes as I try to reach it. I hop slightly, barely reaching the corner of the box and coming back down empty-handed.

Zayne moves next to me, reaching up with ease and grabbing the box. He grabs a pipette and returns the box, holding the pipette out in his hands for me to take. Before I can touch it, he grabs my wrist tightly. I gasp, and he drops my arm almost instantly. Damn… wait, why did I enjoy that?  I push these strange feelings down, instead looking up at him inquisitively.

“Gloves,” he explains, and I curse under my breath. “You’ve been in this program for two years, yet you forget something as simple as gloves.”

“I was a bit distracted, Zayne. It’s not every day I am cornered in the lab by another doctor,” I say, and he smiles as he throws me a box of gloves.

“If I don’t keep you on your toes, then this competition will be boring. If I’m going to win so easily, I might as well have a bit of fun.” He turns back to the centrifuge, which has now stopped spinning.

“Prick,” I mutter, and he chuckles as he pulls the vial from the machine. He hands me the vial and the pipette before grabbing the microscope down from the cabinets above us. I carefully pipe out a few drops of blood before handing him the vial to put in the next machine.

I drop the blood onto a slide, placing it under the microscope before peering into it. I start to adjust the settings, the blood coming into focus as I turn each knob. I feel warm breath on my neck and flinch slightly at the sudden intrusion. I didn’t even hear him walk over here.

“Well?” He asks, his voice soft as his breath continues to dance across the skin of my neck. I don’t respond, the fluttering in my chest getting worse. Any attempt to pay attention to the blood in front of me is abandoned, my attention instead drawn to the warm presence looming behind me.

“Let me look,” he mutters, and I move out of the way quickly to let him peer into the microscope. I exhale a shaky breath, steadying myself against the counter. Why did that affect me the way that it did?

Zayne hums under his breath, moving the dials on the side of the microscope with intense focus. “Grab me my notebook, will you?” He asks, and I mutter something about not being his servant before turning around and doing exactly what he asked.

His backpack, having been thrown in his rush to beat me, is lying on the floor. His notebook is on the ground, as well as several papers that had come flying out during the landing. I bend down to pick them all up, my eyes catching on a crumpled ball of paper lying near his notebook. Is that…?

I quickly unravel the paper ball, staring blankly as I realize what it is. Our notes from class. My eyes scan over the paper, smiling to myself as I think about my victory over him in that class period. My eyes reach the bottom of the paper, realizing that I never got to read the final thing he wrote to me.

“And if you spend all class staring at me, you’ll never get the internship,” my messy writing reads. His beautiful, loopy letters are lined underneath it, and I gasp as I finally process the words.

“How could I not spend the class staring at you? You’re so beautiful when you’re lost in thought.”

That now-familiar fluttering returns to my chest, this time with a thundering rhythm. I somehow feel both excited and nauseous at the same time, my head swirling with so many emotions. I definitely like him, don’t I?

I gulp down some air before picking up his notebook, letting our notes sit on the top as I walk nervously over to where he is standing. His eyes are still on the blood, but he lifts his head as he hears me approaching. I hand him the notebook, our notes being the first thing he sees as he looks down.

He pauses, his breath seemingly caught in his throat. “You think I’m beautiful?” I ask, and he looks back up to me with wide eyes. “Or are you just saying that to ‘keep me on my toes’?” I ask, and he pauses for a moment before responding.

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” I feel a warmth spread across my cheeks, and I pray that I’m not blushing as much as I think I am. I push the notebook into his arms, not saying anything as I turn back to the microscope.

I attempt to keep my focus on the task at hand, trying to ignore the rampant pounding of my heart. Zayne drops the notebook onto the table next to us, his breath now resuming its place on the back of my neck. I can’t help but lean into his warmth, and he puts his arms on either side of me to rest on the counter.

“What do you see?” He asks, his voice husky in my ear. I try to focus, not wanting to let him know how much control he has over me. If he knows how affected I am, he’ll win. I inhale a shaky breath, bringing my eyes down to the blood in front of me.

“I-it looks… normal. To me, at least,” I mutter, and he moves back a bit so that I can turn around and face him. His sharp gaze never leaves my face, glancing slowly from my eyes to my lips.

“I noticed that, too. Looks like you might have been right,” he hisses, and despite the frown on his face, another emotion seems to glimmer in his eyes. The air between us is thick, his face mere inches from mine. His breath smells sweet, with light notes of peppermint dancing across it.

Heels clack, somebody quickly approaching from down the hallway, and Zayne quickly moves away from me as the door to the lab opens. Jenna enters, her eyes wide as she notes our presence in the room. Thanks for moving, Zayne.

“You two? I should’ve known you would be here. Such hard workers,” she praises, and I smile nervously as my blush grows deeper.

“Thank you, Doctor. We wanted to get a head start on that blood for the patient with the hurt leg,” Zayne tells her, and I nod along with him. Jenna nods, placing her purse down on the table by the door.

“I’m here for the same reason, actually. Any news?” She asks, seemingly unaware of the tense scene she had walked in on.

“We’re still waiting on one last test, but it appears that they were right. No adenoma,” Zayne admits, and I am floored by how easily he has admitted defeat. Jenna just nods in response, taking a sip out of her coffee mug before putting on some gloves of her own.

“Great work, you two. I’ll wait for that last test. Go home and get some rest,” she tells us, and Zayne opens his mouth to argue. “No, I insist. You guys don’t get paid for overtime, and I do. It’s better for everyone,” she winks, and Zayne concedes defeat. We grab our backpacks, thanking Jenna profusely as we leave the lab and enter the hallway.

Zayne doesn’t say a word as we walk down the hall, and I consider several different things I can say. “I win?” No, maybe “I told you so?” Or should I just leave it alone? I open my mouth to say something, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me into a dark room before I can begin.

“Zayne-” I begin, but he shushes me as locks the door behind him with a click. We are in one of the empty patient rooms, a clean and perfectly made bed sitting in the center of the room. He quickly shuts the curtains to the room, leaving only the small lamp in the corner to illuminate us.

I open my mouth to ask him what he’s doing, but he’s on me before I can get a single word out. His lips press against my own, almost hungry as he bites my bottom lip. I can’t help but moan into his mouth, my lips moving aggressively against his as he pushes me against the door behind me.

One of his hands finds my hair, pulling slightly on my ponytail, which coaxes another moan from my mouth. His other hand finds the side of my face, pulling me even closer to him as his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip. I part my lips, letting him search my mouth with a ferocity I’ve never seen from him before.

I pull away for air, and he groans impatiently. “Zayne, where is this coming from?” I ask as he begins moving his lips down my face and onto my neck. A mewl escapes from my parted lips as he finds a particular spot in the crook of my neck, sucking on it roughly. “Zayne!” I say again, practically breathing out his name.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now,” he whispers in between his kisses on my neck. “I love how aggressive you get, and how competitive you are... And- fuck- the way you talk to me? So bratty,” he moans out the last word, nipping at my neck with his teeth. I let out a yelp, and he licks the bite apologetically.

He pauses, looking up at me from where he is kissing my neck. “This is okay, right?” He asks, his eyes almost pleading. I scoff, pushing his head back towards my neck.

“Better than okay, Zayne.”

He groans against me, kissing me once more on the neck before tearing the lab coat off of my shoulders. He takes his off as well, licking along the column of my neck as he throws it to the floor. Without warning, he puts his arms around my bottom and lifts me in the air. I gasp, and he walks us over to the hospital bed as he presses another aggressive kiss on my lips.

He lays me on the bed, hiking my skirt up until my entire lower half is exposed. My underwear is now soaked, and he seems to notice almost immediately. A grin spreads across his face as he feels me through my underwear, the friction of the fabric against my clit making me hiss in a breath.

“We’ve only just started, and you’re already so wet for me,” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice. I try to think of something snarky to say, but his finger feeling me through my underwear sends another jolt of pleasure through my body.

He chuckles darkly, pulling his hand away. I let out a whine of protest, but his hands move up to his neck as he begins to loosen his tie. I watch the tendons in his hands flex, the beauty of just this small part of him enough to captivate me. He notices me staring, slowing his movements as his long, dexterous fingers untie the knot around his neck.

“I want those in me so bad,” I admit, and he smirks as he finally takes off his tie. He begins unbuttoning his shirt, each release of a button showing me more and more of his toned torso. He doesn’t take the shirt all the way off, instead choosing to let his lay open against his chest.

“Your turn,” he mutters, eyeing my clothed chest with impatience. I take the hint, quickly moving my fingers to unbutton my shirt. I manage to get most of them unbuttoned, my bare breasts finally exposed to the cold hospital air. Before I can finish unbuttoning it, though, Zayne pounces.

His thumb finds my nipple, already peaked due to the chill of the hospital room. He tweaks the tip of my nipple, sending a shiver down my spine as I arch my chest up into him. “So eager,” he moans, doing the same to the other nipple.

He lowers his head, taking one of my nipples in his warm mouth as he kneads my other breast with his hand. I curse as his tongue circles my nipple, the pleasure rippling through my body in waves. I almost beg him to come back when he finally pulls away, but he moves too quickly for me to get a word out.

His thumb hooks on my soaked underwear, pulling it down my legs before throwing it in the pile of lab coats next to him. He pauses, slowly rolling up his sleeves as I lay utterly bare before him. The sight alone sends another wave of pleasure through me. His eyes never leave me, finally rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and exposing his toned forearms.

He bends down on the floor in front of me, gripping my legs and pulling me towards the edge of the bed. I yelp in surprise, attempting to close my legs. He forces them back open with ease, positioning himself in between my legs as he looks up at me.

“Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He smiles, lowering his head down until his warm breath is dancing across my exposed pussy. I shiver, and he finally licks up my vagina until he reaches my clit. I shudder out a breath as his tongue swirls circles around it, moving torturously slowly. He brings his hand up to where he is working, slowly pushing a finger in and letting it curl inside me.

“F-Fuck, Zayne,” I moan, my hand coming down to find his hair and grabbing tightly. He just moans in response, the vibration against my clit sending me reeling. He puts a second finger inside me, massaging my walls with delectable pressure. I pull harder on his hair, which only makes him thrust into me with more intensity.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he moans into me, before resuming the work of his tongue on my clit. I feel my orgasm finally begin to build, the tension in my lower half beginning to reach its peak.

“Zayne, please,” I mutter, but my pleas are not enough. He pulls away, leaving me feeling empty as the cold air hits my exposed cunt. “Z-Zayne,” I whine, and he just makes a tsk noise.

“So needy,” he tells me, and I whine again as I feel my orgasm start to retreat. I hear the clink of metal and watch as he begins to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather from the loops of his belt and letting it fall to the floor. He quickly unbuttons his slacks, letting them hit the floor at his feet.

All that’s left are his boxers, the only thing keeping me from what I want. When he doesn’t take them off, I sit up and move to take them off myself, kneeling down on the ground in front of him. He just grabs my wrists, making that tsk noise yet again.

“Patience is one of the most important traits a doctor can have, you know,” he murmurs, taking a moment to rub his thumb over my swollen lips.

“Says the guy fucking me in a doctor's office instead of asking me on a date first,” I answer back, taking his thumb in my mouth and sucking on it teasingly. He rolls his eyes, but he can’t quite hide the hunger now sparkling in them.

He pulls down the boxers, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side impatiently. His length is now fully exposed, and I almost start to feel nauseous just from the idea of it going in me. “There’s no way,” I whine, and he seems to think this is hilarious.

He pushes the tip of his dick towards me until it is tapping against my lips, rubbing teasing circles until I finally take him in my mouth. I take in just the tip, letting my tongue catch the small dots of precum and swirling my tongue around teasingly. He twitches at each rotation, and I can’t help but smile onto his cock.

I start to move slowly down the shaft, but there is no way I am fitting it in its entirety down my throat. Instead, I bring my hands to the bit left over and massage it roughly, my head bobbing faster as his hands reach my ponytail.

“F-fuck,” he manages to groan, his hand grasping my ponytail tightly as he helps move me up and down his length. His movements get sloppier, his legs shaking as his release approaches faster and faster with each bob.

Before he can finish, I pull my mouth off of him with a sinful pop. I stand back up, staring directly into his eyes as he looks down at me. Sweat is dripping from his hair now, a few shivers still racking his body as he stands bare in front of me. His cock is throbbing, and I watch as his pleading eyes turn to pure lust.

He pushes me back onto the hospital bed, and as I turn to try and escape, he manages to catch me around the waist. My back is now to him, my ass pressed firmly against his rigid length behind me. I can’t help but moan, letting him tease me by grinding into my backside.

“Please,” he whispers, his lips touching my ear as he pleads into it. He pauses for a moment, biting down lightly on my earlobe. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel you now,” he mutters again, letting one of his hands move back to my clit.

I lift my head over my shoulder, managing to reach his lips with my own as I give him a small peck. He presses his finger down harder on my clit, and I let my head fall again as I grow weak from pleasure.

“Say it,” he pleads again, his finger rubbing circles on me with a delectable pressure. I struggle to find the words, breathless from his length still grinding against my backside.

“P-please, fuck me. Oh G-God,” I manage to mumble out, and he doesn’t wait a second longer before he bends me over. His dick finds my folds, rubbing against them teasingly before slowly sliding into me.

He starts with just the tip, easing in and out a few times before finally pushing himself in fully. I have to bite back the scream that threatens to escape from me, the sensation of suddenly being so full of him almost too much to handle.

His thighs slap against my ass as he thrusts in again, his fingers digging into my hips as he moves me on him. I can already feel his fingers leaving bruises on me, and I suddenly feel grateful that the lab coat covers so much of my body when I wear it.

One of his hands finds its way up to my ponytail, yanking back on it roughly and sending my face upwards. He groans again, using my hair to help him thrust in even deeper than before. His cock rams over and over again into my G-spot, the release in my stomach building more with every thrust.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his hand leaving my hair and instead moving around my waist. It presses down on my stomach, making my walls even tighter around him. He shudders, his arms wrapping around me in something close to a hug as he continues pounding into me.

I’ve nearly reached my peak when he brings his hand back down towards my clit. Rubbing quick circles around it as he thrusts even faster. It hits me, nearly blindingly, and I feel my body start to spasm. My legs are shaking, my orgasm making me clench tighter around his cock.

He lets out a curse, nearly whimpering as he finally falls apart. His grip around me tightens as he finishes, shooting deep inside me and somehow filling me up even more. He continues thrusting, his cock now throbbing as he finally slows down.

We let the spasms run their course, each of our bodies twitching from the sheer pleasure of it all. I finally collapse, his large body moving to cradle mine in the twin-sized hospital bed below us. Our foreheads touch as he presses a soft kiss to my lips, sweat dripping from both of us as he smiles stupidly at me.

“I’ve never seen you so disheveled before. You’re usually so well put together,” I mumble, marveling at the way the top student in our class heaves out a shaky breath and caresses my face with his hand. He kisses my lips again before trailing the kisses back down to my neck.

As he kisses the bruised spot on my neck, I lean down and put my mouth right next to his ear.

“Zayne: 2. Me: 2,” I whisper, and he stops kissing my neck immediately. He looks up at me, his eyes meeting mine with a deadly seriousness.

“Looks like we’ll need a tiebreaker then, huh?”

“What did you have in mind?” I ask, and he just gives me a devilish grin before trailing the kisses back down my neck, moving lower with each one.

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THANKS FOR READING GUYS! And thank you to the person who left this ask. I had so much fun researching for this one and ended up texting my biochemistry major friend to ask for help (hiiiiiii Rich, if you're reading this).

I'll have the other asks I've received posted soon, I promise!

-Robbie

[sweetbans29]

Teach Me: The Ask (i) - PB

Pairing: Paige Buecker x Reader

Next Part

Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.

Warnings: best friend vulnerability, smitten Paige

Word Count: 3.5k

Teach Me Masterlist & Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Let's do this.

It's a Tuesday afternoon when a girl from your chem class asks you out. The two of you had been talking for the past few weeks and you had gotten a vibe - at least were hoping you were getting a vibe. Turns out, you were correct. She asked you to go out that Friday night.

You are literally over the moon. Truth be told, you were never one to date in high school or the beginning of college for that matter. The high school thing never really bugged you, but once you got to college and saw how much fun your friends were having hooking up, and sort of felt like you were missing out. It was always something that lingered in the back of your mind.

The thing that always scared you was your lack of knowledge. You had never done anything sexual. You hadn't even had your first real kiss yet, talk about embarrassing. I mean you kissed Jacob in middle school spin the bottle but never counted it because it was when you learned you didn't like boys.

But now that all that is changing. Not like you are going to treat your chem date as one of the girls your friends bring home, but you also don't want to be completely clueless as to what to do if it does ever go there.

The now excitement turns into fear as you run through all the possibilities of how your inexperience could end something that hasn't even begun. In your irrational thinking, there is only one person who you can think of that could help you.

Paige Bueckers and you met in high school. Your dad was the high school girls' basketball coach, where Paige played during regular season all four years. You knew everything your dad knew about the game and were often his assistant coach even though you were also still in school. Nobody understood why you didn't continue playing after middle school and you honestly never really talked about it. All they knew was that your knowledge of the game was something that could take you places.

You were instantly impressed by Paige when she made the varsity team her freshman year. Your dad led a pretty excellent program for high school which caused families to move to your hometown to have their daughters play for him. He was also on the board of a club program which usually kept him pretty busy and you as you were always with him.

Paige was a player your dad had been following since she started middle school and playing at the club. You also had an eye on her and were impressed by how refined her skills were. So when she came and tried out for the high school team, she was tough to place. You thought she should have been on JV for a year before stepping up into varsity but your dad argued a good case as to why she should be on varsity.

She was one of 4 girls in your dad's career who had come in as a freshman and made varsity.

Paige and you actually butted heads during both of your freshman years. You would try and coach her and she would dismiss you immediately - only listening to your dad. I mean you couldn't really blame her, you were the same age as her trying to tell her how to be better at a sport you didn't play anymore.

It wasn't until the end of the season your guy's freshman year that she saw the value in you. It was during the State Class Tournament when the team was down by 10 in the last quarter and you were coaching the offense while your dad was coaching on defense. It was then that she truly saw your knowledge of the game and how you weren't just pulling stuff out of your ass.

The team won the championship - your first time and your dad's like 12th. It was after that game, while everyone was celebrating that Paige came up to you and apologized for being so dismissive all season. You told her not to sweat it and the rest is history.

The two of you became best friends sophomore year of high school. It was easy as you were a part of the team but not a player and Paige appreciated having a friend who didn't share the court with her - I mean you shared the court with her but in a completely different capacity. The two of you worked extremely well together when it came to the game and found out that you also enjoyed each other's company outside of the gym. It was like you two had an unspoken language and were able to communicate without anyone hearing a word.

Your friendship only continued to grow over the years. You became Paige's right hand when it came to playing ball - you knew the way she played like the back of your hand. You could tell her where she had gone wrong or where she could improve before she even made a move. When she committed to UConn, you knew that would be where you go. Your dad approved and you knew you could continue learning the game.

During your freshman year, you and Paige dormed together. You continued to watch her game and help her become a better player at a college level. You also got super close with her team. You fit in perfectly. For most of the time, that wasn't an issue - hanging out with the girls and spending time with them. The only time it became an issue is when you see them more than Paige. You love your best friend, but there are times when she gets a little territorial.

The first time you noticed this was in high school, it only happened once or twice but it was bad.

There was this one time during club season (about a year into your friendship) when you had gone to a tournament with your dad. Paige was playing and she knew you were going to be there. Granted, before the tourney you had told her you were going to be scooping out players with your dad. She knew you weren't there to watch her play.

As the day progressed, so did her game. She kept missing shots and couldn't get out of her head. And to top it all off - you were nowhere in sight. Paige knew that whenever she was off, you would be there to tell her exactly how she could fix it, even if it was just a knock upside her head to tell her to stop overthinking.

When she would have a moment, her eyes would scan the crowd for you but she could never find you. The frustration started to build up in her that by the end of the tournament, she didn't make a beeline to you (not that she knew where you were) rather just went straight home.

When you and your dad were finished, you looked at Paige's location on Find My Friends and noticed she was already home. Your heart sank a little seeing as she did come find you but shake it off.

A day passes and you hear nothing from Paige. Typically you wake up to a minimum of 3-4 notifications from her, whether it be texts, missed calls, or some video or meme she has sent. The next morning there was nothing.

You try and give her a call but no answer.

It is about 10am now and still nothing from Paige. You see she is at home and decide to make your way there. When you get there her dad is out working in the garage and greets you. He lets you know Paige has been out back working on her shot all morning. YOu thank him and make your way out to your best friend.

When you walk out she is locked in on a shooting drill. You stand there and watch her - already seeing what you had seen yesterday. You weren't able to watch full games for your best friend but every chance you got, you would sneak over to see how she was doing. You knew she was off and how she could adjust but every time you had an opportunity to go talk to her, your dad needed you with him.

"You're pulling your shot - your elbow and wrist aren't aligned. You lose it a second before your release causing you to shift right." You say to the girl who keeps missing about half of her shots.

Paige wants so badly to look at you and say she needed you yesterday but she still boils with an unknown anger. She says nothing.

"Paige, what's going on?" You ask when she doesn't respond - you even used her first name, and you never used her first name. Still no response from your stubborn friend as she goes up for another shot - missing it. You have seen enough.

You walk up to her, take the ball, and throw it into the yard. If she wants to play this game, she needs to know that 2 can play.

"What the hell?" She yells, finally looking at you.

Her look says more than you imagined it would. At first, all you see is the anger that she has been holding for the past 24 hours. But as you both stand there just staring at one another, you begin to see the hurt that lies behind it maybe even a hint of jealousy. There is something else in her eye but you can't quite pinpoint that one yet.

Your eyes soften as you look at the blonde in front of you, waiting for her to take the lead. You are wholeheartedly expecting her to yell at you for something you still have no idea about. And you're ready to give it right back to her.

The yelling never comes as Paige finally breaks eye contact with you and looks down.

"You weren't there." Is all Paige says. She continues to look down and behind picking at one of the nails.

"What are you talking about B?" You ask, needing her to be more specific.

"I needed you and you weren't there," she says again. You wrack your brain for what she could possibly be talking about when it clicks. Even though you saw what her issue was yesterday - you never corrected her during the game.

"That's what this is about?" You ask, your heart breaking slightly from the sight of your best friend's vulnerability. You see a switch in her flip and know you are about to get feisty Paige.

"You were at the tournament for the entire day and didn't come over to watch me for a second! That single-handedly was one of my worst tournaments and couldn't figure out what was going wrong. The day just kept getting worse. I would scan the crowd for you and you were nowhere in sight, off at some other court watching some other girl that wasn't me." She whispered the last part to herself more than you.

You wait a second, processing what she is saying and waiting to see if there is going to be anything else. When nothing else comes, you speak.

"During game three, is when you started pulling your shot. It started when no.15 from the other team fouled you midshot and you fell to the ground. That is why you missed your first free throw. Your next game was even worse - that is when you started getting in your head. Your shooting percentage was down 20% and you couldn't shake it because you were fully in your head at that point. Game 5 was the worst of them all because you had just given up on yourself. Your shot was all over the place as you were trying to adjust every single one you took. I was there P, you just couldn't see me." You say with a matter-of-fact tone.

"And it is my job to watch other athletes! You know this! That is why I started watching you," you finish looking at your best friend.

"You saw?" Paige asks.

"Of course, I saw B, you're my girl," You say using her nickname. Everyone always calls Paige either by her name or first initial. You, on the other hand, call her by her last initial. You are the only one she allows to call her by it. It started when you would only call her by her last name freshman year, never using her first name and it drove her crazy. When the two of you became best friends, you shortened it to B. She didn't know how she felt about it until you mentioned it you liked it because no one else called her that and you wanted a special nickname that only you use. Hence, her shooting daggers at anyone else who tries to call her by your nickname.

Paige's heart tugs when she hears you call her 'your girl'. That's all she really wants but values you too much to make any sort of move. She has come to terms that a friendship is all the two of you will ever have and is okay with that knowing you will always be there. But it is in moments like this that she wants more for the two of you.

She waddles over to you. You open your arms to embrace her. She walks into your arms and you hug her, she doesn't hug you back but stands there like a child with her head in your neck.

That night you spend the night at her house. The two of you have a movie night and Paige falls asleep to She's the Man and you stoking her hair.

You are running back to your apartment to see if Paige is around and find your apartment filled with girls from the team. They are all doing an IG live. You smile at the girls before you and know you need to wait to talk to Paige. You quietly make your way to your room but don't go completely unnoticed.

As you are making your way over, Paige's arm reaches back and squeezes your knee. You give her a smile and run your hands through her hair.

She lets out a little moan, not loud enough for anyone to hear except herself.

You are grateful you are covered by Azzi and another girl. There have been several times the two of you have had to mitigate dating rumors and didn't want to deal with that tonight. You head back to your room and lay on your bed scrolling through IG, waiting for the girls to finish up.

It also gives you time to think through how you want to approach talking to Paige. She is the only one you trust with something so intimate.

I mean not only is she your best friend, but since the two of you got to college she has been pretty active and I don't just mean playing ball. The two of you talked about her habits early on. She was allowed to bring girls home on weekends or after games and all you asked is that she didn't mention any details and that they were gone by the time you had to be up in the morning. Her sexual life never affected you. If you were honest, you were glad at least one of you was getting laid.

You hear the girls start saying their goodbyes and that is your cue that the live has ended and it is safe to make your way to tell them bye.

Making your way out, you head to the group. You say bye to all of them and they leave your apartment.

"How did it go?" You ask Paige as she grabs an apple and takes a bite.

"It was aight, they did a Q & A which was fun." She says as she wipes her bottom lip.

You start to feel nervous and begin fiddling with a paper on the counter.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" She asks noticing your nervousness. You give her a smile, always loving when she calls you pretty or any pet name really. It's endearing.

"I have to ask you something - and I don't really know how to ask it so I am just going to come out and ask," you say beginning to ramble. "You can say no, but I am only asking you because I know you and you know me and I trust you."

"Spit it out ma," she says going in for another bite of her apple.

"Willyoushowmehowtobeintimatewithagirl?" You say faster than you could breathe.

Paige chokes on her apple and begins to cough. She doesn't think she has heard you correctly.

"B, are you okay?" You ask patting her on the back. She takes a step away from you and you retreat a little yourself.

This was a bad idea, you think to yourself as you begin to feel embarrassed by the ask you have of your best friend.

"Repeat what you just said," she says, telling not asking. You open your mouth and she clarifies, "Slower this time."

You gulp, feeling even more nervous than before.

"Will you," you say with another gulp. "Will you show - teach me how to be intimate with a girl?"

Paige's mind is racing - almost as fast as her heart. She wants to say yes immediately but has done such a good job of hiding her feelings up to this point.

"You want me to show you how to fuck girls?" She asks bluntly.

You blush at her directness.

"Well that and more," you say. "You know, like what to do and what feels good. What girls like in bed and stuff but also like how to kiss and stuff." You can't look at her when you ask the last part.

Paige's head is now spinning and beginning to throb. And trust me when I say her head is not the only thing that is beginning to throb.

You begin to feel like you are asking too much of your best friend.

"B, you are the only person I trust and you know I am a literal child when it comes to being intimate with someone. I would never ask anyone else because they don't know me like you do and I know this wouldn't change anything between us." You say.

Paige is now leaning on the counter with her head in her hands. She is just trying to get the image of you, laying out before her - exposed, out of her head before she takes you right here on the kitchen counter. Her skin is buzzing.

"Paige," you begin and her head whips up. You are too caught up in your own nervousness to notice how her pupils are dilated.

"Why now?" She asks.

"A girl from one of my classes asked me out on Friday and I want to be prepared for anything," you say slightly embarrassed.

Paige's heart fills with jealousy thinking about another girl taking you out and making you laugh. Thinking about her touching you and making you moan her name.

A fire begins to burn in Paige. She is in a complete internal battle with herself. Why would she show you how to make someone else feel good? But at the same time, she absolutely hates the idea of you with someone else and if she is your first - she would at least have that.

You touch her arm as Paige's skin feels like it just went up into a burning pile of flames. When did you get so close to her?

"If this makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to do it." You say looking deep into her eyes.

She could stare into your eyes forever. You really don't know the effect you have on her. Paige would move mountains for you. She would do anything to make you happy even if it caused her pain. She would give you her last breath if it meant she got to see you smile one last time. As much as she knows this is a bad idea, she knows how much it took for you to ask her. She knows how uncomfortable you get when someone hits on you in a bar or when someone gets too close. She knows your ask is genuine because you used her first name.

Paige takes a moment to gather all of her thoughts then takes your hand.

"I'll do it," is all she says before you jump in her arms. Her arms wrap around you and she inhales the scent of your shampoo.

"Thank you so much B! I promise to be the best student ever," you say as you give her a squeeze.

She doesn't say it, but that is exactly what Paige is afraid of - you being her best. You being her best but not hers.

AN: First part down! Let me know what you think! This series will be posted every Sunday until The End is posted. I hope you enjoyed it. And as always, thank you for your love and support 💙

[misctf]

Don't know if you still want requests but I grew up playing good old american football so I naturally have bulked way up and become so big but now I'd like to play soccer. Can you help me get from football bulky to soccer lean?

You jogged back to the side-lines, high-fiving your teammate as they ran out to take your place. The whistle blows, and you watch as the game resumes. If you told your younger self you’d be trying to play soccer, he would’ve laughed. As your dad said, you were born to play American football. And years of training your body left you bulky and muscular. At 6’2” and 230lbs, you’re a beast. But since graduating college a few years ago, you found it hard to get back into football. Most of your colleagues were into soccer and your company’s team played weekly.

“You should play.” Jake from accounting said.

“Nah, not into that kinda stuff.” You initially replied. You weren’t some twinkle-toed foot fairy. You played football. A real sport.

But you eventually caved. You figured you needed some more cardio in your life and connecting with your colleagues a bit more couldn’t be that bad. You just didn’t figure how much you were going to love it. Or how bad you’d be at it. Your coworkers patted you on the back after you failed to complete a pass. They reassured you it was okay when you accidentally scored on your own goal. And you eventually figured you just didn’t have the body or stamina for the sport. But you weren’t a quitter.

You’d never heard of the Jock Exchange Program until an ad popped up on your screen one evening. You read closely, becoming absolutely fascinated. An app that gives athletes the chance to try out a new sport. An for app those who feel they dedicated themselves to the wrong sport. The process is simple. Match with someone and meet at one of their facilities. Easy enough. You set up your profile, snapping a picture that highlights your bulky, muscular form. And after swiping through a few possible swaps, you match. The guy’s name is Dylan. Just turned 19, blond, lean, and played soccer all his life. He’s a bit young, but he reassures you he’s okay aging up a bit if it means he gets a chance at playing American football.

And a few day later, you’re at the facility. It was the first time you met Dylan. He was certainly shorter and younger than you. A confident, cocky grin etched on his face. You agreed to a 1 month swap, just to see how it goes. You and Dylan sign the papers. And before you knew it, electrodes were hooked up to your head. And then everything went black.

When you awoke, the world around you felt a big larger. You raised your hand and gasped. It was smaller, hairless. The skin young and not weathered by the years. You grab a mirror and look closely at your handsome face, blond hair, and tanned skin. You can’t help but chuckle. It felt so odd. So foreign. Yet it was yours all the same. You eventually got ready and said goodbye to Dylan, who was clearly enjoying his new larger frame. And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back at your old body. You were never much of a narcissist, but god you looked good. You blushed when you felt your new cock chub up a bit. Returning home, you had the chance to really appreciate your new form. The lean, hairless muscle a far cry from your bulkier form. The confident, cocky smirk reminded you of all those asshole jocks you used to play with. This kid probably got a lot of action, you figured.

The next few days were largely normal. You went to work, having to explain to everyone your situation. But afterwards, you had the chance to really shine on the soccer field. Your lean form moving expertly, performing moves you didn’t even know were possible. Jake comes up to you afterwards, slapping you on the back and commending your new skills. And again, the oddest feeling passes through you. When did Jake get so attractive? I mean, he was a good looking guy. Just out of college- really gorgeous smile. And his stubble was a sexy addition to his chiseled face. You even notice the sweat dripping down his shirt. And his manly musk causes your dick to stir. You never had thoughts like that before, yet all you could do was stare dreamily at him.

“Hey, you good?”

“Uh yeah, bro.” You say, “I...” You pause and give him a confident smirk, “Just wondering what you’re doing after this, man.” You say. Images of him fucking you cross your mind and you’re lost in a horny daze, “Wanna head back to my place?”   

He gives you an odd look and asks if you’re okay. Using a name that you don’t think quite sounds right.

“Uh, name’s Dylan.” You say. He raises an eyebrow and in that moment, you snap back to reality, “Oh shit, uh sorry Jake. I need to go!”  You quickly part ways, your mind trying to make sense of what just happened. Just a blip, you figure, nothing to worry about.

But as the days continue to pass, you’re starting to recognize these issues aren’t improving. Your performance at work declines. Tasks you knew how to do with ease are taking much longer and are done incorrectly. At the same time, you’re constantly horny. The hormones raging in this younger body- consuming your every focus. And one night, while you’re browsing porn sites, you realize straight porn isn’t doing it for you. Without much thought, you navigate to a gay porn site you know you’d never heard of, and find a video. And for the first time, you jerk off to gay porn, moaning the entire time. Completely lost in the bliss.

The next day, you don’t even go into work. In fact, you don’t really recall what you do for work. Weren’t you in college? And who’s apartment was this? But a voice is telling you this isn’t right. You can barely recall aspects of your old life. And you realize in terror that these thoughts aren’t your own. You quickly call the help desk for the Jock Exchange Program and tell them what’s been going on.

“That was part of the risks, sir.” They say, “Sometimes, remnants of the old person’s mind remain. And in some cases, will overwrite the host.” They clear their voice, "Not to alarm you, but once an overwrite occurs, it may be impossible to rectify."

“Overwrite? Impossible?” You ask, the panic in your voice evident, “How do I stop this?”

“We can initiate an emergent transfer back to your old body. Can you tell us your name?”

“Dylan Conners.” You say, shaking your head, “No, it’s Dylan Conners.” Your eyes widen and you realize you can’t even remember your old name. In a panic, you hang up the phone.

You need to stop this. You need to... do what? Stop what? You shake your head. And, as you look around the apartment, you feel uncomfortable. This isn’t your place. You don’t even know how you got here. Despite a voice telling you this is your apartment, you flee. You run down the sidewalk and try to make sense of what’s going on. You quickly head to a spot you know all too well: the soccer field. And when you arrive, you take a deep breath. A feeling of comfort washing over you. There’s an abandoned soccer ball and you quickly start to practice. Each move wiping away your worry. Each successful shot on goal removing any doubt that you’re anyone but Dylan Conners. And by the time you’re done, covered in sweat, only Dylan Conners remains. You look down at a text on your phone.

“Hey man, wanted to know if you wanted to prolong this exchange. Got a spot on the team for the rest of the season. And btw, I’m loving this body.”

You chuckle, “Who the fuck is that?” You wonder. You quickly text back, “Sure man, I don’t give a shit.” And close your phone.

[starzgaze]

Just a though rmb that time u made hae-in and Jinwoo fight for y/n? I just rmbered it randomly and I propose:

Hs Jinwoo and Hae-in both regressing and they're pining for Y/N who used to be a mage/healer/support for them.

Ur local hottest boy in school + The it girl and Track Running champion of another school fighting for y/n's hand

this has been living rent free in my head to the point ive unconsciously drawn it LMAO so art down below if u scrolllll

okay but this concept with an extremely mundane [name]?? hello especially someone who's just trying to get past school with average grades and average effort then maybe with a few volunteering here and there where it's coincidentally being the assistant for the coah in the track and field team.

[name] being known for helping a few people and having an affinity when it comes to patching up people and helping them so volunteer work is just light work for them so they didn't mind as much when the things they do during their time in the track and field team is tossing water to the runners and sometimes fixing them up if they trip or break an ankle. being part of the red cross club last year really helps in these situations.

then [name] meets jinwoo who's the new member in the team and someone who just suddenly transferred to the school, saying it was about his father getting a promotion and they needed to move places.

[name] believes this because everyone has their own situations but it was in fact jinwoo finally finding out what school [name] was in after a few years of trying to search for them then he transferred school, not caring if it's the middle of the school year. of course [name] doesn't know this.

then those two gets closer and jinwoo tries to charm [name] with silly jokes and impressive stamina and speed whenever he's on the field, leaving [name] awe struck. it was obvious to everybody else that the new extremely handsome hotshot of the track and field team had a little thing for the stupidly mundane volunteer who only took the job because they needed something for their community service hours.

just as about this man was gonna ask [name] out the coach of the track and field team announces that now on during after class practices another student from a different school will be attending their training program and blow and behold it's fucking cha hae-in much to jinwoo's dismasy.

hae-in isn't much experienced with this whole regression thing so she's less prepared compared to jinwoo but her persistence and determination just to see her sweet little [name] again what helped her pulled through and landed her here.

hae-in took the program through some connections and begging to her coach to let her train under a different school, claiming it will help her grow and the coach believed her because how can you deny your favourite athlete that's stupidily amazing in the sport? anyway hae-in successfully got into [name]'s school without moving in even if it's not the whole day, seeing [name] was more than enough for her.

that is until she saw her number one rival at the corner, hae-in compares him to a cockroach with how he can't leave her sigh and his sense of fashion that's constantly dark themed. she's low-key pissed that he's here, like just leave her alone and her cutie [name] that's not for him.

[name] spends more time with the two, now hae-in is in the picture. they would help hae-in whenever she would get a sprain and give her tips on what to do to alleviate the pain and get better asap before the regionals or take her out to hang out because it was easier being the same gender. jinwoo is fuminggg at this because it took him like months to do that and for hae-in it took like a measly few weeks?? that's so unfair

suddenly the two get into little competitions with eachother trying to impress [name] and of course they noticed but they don't believe that the two most sought after players in the school or even the region would have a thing for them, they're just good friends.

that drives them insane but it's okay one of them will make you realize it's more than that!! it's just a matter of time and effort you'll be in their arms.

btw imagine after school going out with the two and you guys eat at some street vendor spot then they argue who could pay. they get so distracted with arguing you just pay for yourself as you watch with the street vendor the two fighting.

[thatsatricky1]

𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐛𝐢𝐞 | Lee Jeno Smau

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lee Jeno x F Reader.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst?, Cursing, Suggestive, more to be added lol.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬: University au, spin on fight club au, social media au; smau, written parts, angst, fluff, slow burn, humour, (one sided) enemies to lovers, hidden identities.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐨 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬:

1. Only grades acceptable are B+ and above.

2. Negative and derogatory wording about Neo is strictly forbidden.

3. Uniforms must be worn exactly as shown in the uniform guide with no alterations.

4. Tardiness won’t be tolerated, there is no excuse for being late.

5. No Female and Male contact is permitted, only during contact sports or circus in circumstances with granted permission.

6. All homework, assignments, projects and school activities must be completed by the set timeline and are compulsory.

7. No outside help is allowed, this includes outside tutors and Ai programs, on campus tutors will be provided with a fee.

If these rules are not upheld, there will be strict consequences such as suspension and/or expulsion. One or more rules could lead to an immediate expulsion if decided by the faculty.

These are the strict guidelines Neo university students must follow without question or backlash through their years at Neo Technology. Failure to comply with said guidelines never ends peacefully. Many students end up leaving Neo Technology in their earlier years in their majors and courses due to Burn out or expulsions.

Those who manage to go through to graduation in their majors/degrees are always guaranteed a good future, having this university campus on one's resume/Cv is an automatic ticket into high end jobs. Previously graduated students have been seen working in higher up positions in multiple different areas. There hasn’t been a recorded failure on Neo Technologies graduated classes so far.

Many students fill out the same requirements that go to Neo Technology, Wealthy family backgrounds, academically well adjusted and above average in multiple areas shown through their previous education and lastly well connected individuals with higher up contacts. With one outlier.

The one student with a scholarship that is picked out every year. AKA the charity case to make the university look fair. However this scholarship is given to a first year, every year in all majors, whether they make it through to graduation is their own hardship. Those who drop or or get expelled will be replaced with a new student in that year they dropped out.

Due to unseen and unfortunate events a scholarship student in their graduation year passed away from ‘natural’ causes, meaning a new scholarship student would be taking their place in the graduating class of 2024 in the business major area and courses.

Many outsiders condemn Neo Technology for their strict ruling and how faintly it seemed to act more like a high school then university due to its strict regulations rather than the relaxed ruling one mostly knows from being a university student on campus. However words and thoughts do nothing to change how Neo Technology continues to move forward with its education agenda.

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛:

1. You don’t talk about Fight Club.

2. You do NOT talk about Fight club.

3. If someone says “Stop” or goes limp, taps out, the fight is over.

4. Only two people, to a fight.

5. No Shirts, No shoes.

6. Fights will go on as long as they have to.

7. If this is your first time at Fight Club, you have to fight.

Those were the rules, you don’t follow them you’re out and that doesn’t just mean a simple blacklisting. Fight Club was built from the ground up by people in their 40’s trying to have some excitement brought back into their mundane lives. Though of course as time progressed the younger generations started pouring in to the point the average ages seen in Fight Club were now no longer 40’s but between 20’s-40’s.

If you happen to be an unfortunate soul who wanders into Fight Club, there’s no point in saying be prepared because no newbie is. It doesn’t matter if it's your first and last day there. Rule number Seven always happens. If it’s your first time at Fight Club, you have to fight. It’s not a choice, it's a must.

Profiles 1 | Profiles 2 | Extra

1. All men =🚩

2. Why she kinda 🫦

3. Freak 🫵

4. Homie hopping

5. Hot privileges revoked

6. I got you bbg 💳

7. Neo T student.

More chapters to come…

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: (Comment,message or submit a request to be added to this taglist.)

Oml first smau finally being done 👀 took me forever to decide to actually do it lol, let’s hope this will actually be good 😭 (constructive feedback is always appreciated so if you have any memo’s or notes feel free to tell me!)

Also a little sneak peak into the boys in this one here you go:

[artificial-transmutations]

Boyfriend Material

Against all odds, Troy didn't hate Luka when they were assigned the same college dorm room. They were quite different, really: While Troy was the almost stereotypical nerd, from his glasses down to his checkered shirt, Luka was quite the opposite. He had a fit body and was majoring in history of sports.

Where Troy was the quiet, bookish type, Luka was outgoing and active. Troy read books, tinkered with electronics or programmed an app in his free time, while Luka went out for the gym or played rugby on the field. And, of course, even though Luka wasn't stereotypically jock-dumb, Troy was much more intelligent than him.

All those differences had a lot of potential for a relationship of hatred from day one, but, surprisingly, the two of them got along fine. They had separate bedrooms and respected each other’s boundaries so much that they barely talked to each other for the first few weeks. For Troy, it was almost as if he had the dorm for himself. Luka cleaned up after himself and in the few instances when he listened to his bass heavy music too loudly, he immediately turned it down as soon as Troy asked him to, thanking him for the notification even.

So, at first Troy and Luka had a distant but respectful relationship that even made Troy question his prejudices regarding the stereotypical dumb jock.

It was only half a year after moving in together that Troy and Luka discovered one thing they had in common: Bad luck in dating.

Troy was, of course, way too introvert and shy to meet a girl. It was a frustrating experience for him. Every time he matched someone on one of the various dating apps he used, he pondered for hours on how to start a conversation with the girl who was surely way out of his league. More often than not he decided not to text her at all and just deleted the contact frustratedly. At other times, he started a conversation but quickly found himself getting bored from the meaningless small talk. It was as if every girl he met virtually was way too shallow and way below his intellect: He couldn't find a common ground to talk about that didn't seem pointless to him.

Luka on the other hand had a quite different problem. Luka was gay, a fact that took Troy a few weeks to notice. He actually had guys over quite often and was, judging from the noises, sexually active with them as well. Here, too, Luka was very considerate not to disturb Troy too much, so Troy didn't mind at all. However, in time, Troy noticed that the guys visiting Luka were rarely the same twice in a row.

Troy suspected that Luka was enjoying his single life and thought nothing of it, but after a while even the socially awkward Troy picked up on the bad mood that seemed to befall his roommate every time one of his partners left. So, just as Luka said goodbye to a muscular Black man one evening, Troy actually asked him:

"Is everything alright, Luka?"

Luka closed the door behind his date and looked at his roommate. "Sure. Why wouldn't it be?"

Troy fiddled a bit with his glasses. He was not very good at talking to other people, especially not when it came to delicate matters.

"I just noticed that you do seem to be... going through boyfriends rather quickly."

"Boyfriends? Oh, none of them was my boyfriend."

Troy didn't know what to answer to that. He had thought the men coming and going were Luka's dates, but apparently not.

Luka sighed and sat down on the couch.

"I didn't get to the 'boyfriends' stage with any of them, you know?" Luka sounded genuinely disappointed or sad.

Troy looked for a way to escape the awkward situation, and probably Luka wouldn't even have minded being left alone. But since he brought up the topic, Troy felt compelled to offer some comfort.

So, he, too sat down on the couch and hesitated a bit before asking: "You didn't? I thought that you, you know, slept with some of them."

"Yeah, I did. With all of them, actually." Luka confirmed. He didn't sound too happy or proud though as he continued: "Getting into a guy's pants isn't very difficult. Getting into their hearts however..." his voice trailed off.

"What's the problem?" Troy asked, genuinely interested. He didn't know the differences between gay and straight people were so significant. Casual sex with a woman seemed impossible to achieve, at least to Troy. Yet Luka described it as if that was easy for gay guys.

Luka sighed. "Good question. Apparently, I'm no boyfriend material. Or the number of guys looking for something serious are rarer than I thought. Whatever the reason, I haven't had a relationship in almost three years now. It's kind of frustrating."

Troy nodded. "Yes, I know the feeling. Dating isn't easy for me either. I guess I'm just too shy. Fact is: I've never had a girlfriend."

"No way! Really?" Now Luka was the one to be surprised. "But you are a nice guy. I bet the girls are lining up for you."

"Not that I noticed, they aren't."

There was a moment of silence between the two roommates before Troy laughed. "Seems like we are not that different after all."

After that, it was like the ice between the two of them was broken. Even though they were very different, Troy and Luka got along even better and talked more. For some reason, Troy even found Luka's situation worse than his own. Sure, Troy couldn't talk to girls, let alone date any, but Luka had his heart broken again and again.

So, Troy tried to help out Luka as best as he could. They even went to a gay club together, with Troy as Luka's wingman, but that plan didn't turn out very well. Even though Troy had a drink or two, he just couldn't muster up the courage to talk to the guys and Luka did the same thing. Eventually, both were just sitting together and observed the club and the people inside and everyone just assumed they were together.

Once they got back to their dorm room, neither of them was very happy.

"Sorry, that was probably a bad idea." Troy apologized. "I really thought you would meet someone interesting today."

"Don't worry about it. It was a good idea" Luka smiled. "I still had some fun today."

"No, it's really unfair!" Troy claimed. Perhaps it was the alcohol speaking but he was really unhappy with how Luka was being treated "You're such a great catch, and I just wish you would finally find a boyfriend! If you ask me, you're totally boyfriend material! If I was gay, I'd date you in an instant!"

Luka had to laugh. "That's sweet, but don't be silly. If you were gay, I'm sure you would have a partner. And even if you wouldn't, you're a great guy, but I'm not sure you were my type."

"What's your type then?" Troy asked curiously. They had actually never spoken about that before.

"Well, perhaps it's part of why it's so difficult for me to find a man. I've got these very specific wishes about a guy I would like to date..." Luka began.

"Come on, tell me more." Troy pressed. "If I'm going to be a great wingman, I need to know."

Luka hesitated, but eventually, he began: "It's hard to explain, you know. But for me, there's nothing sexier than a man who is strong, muscular, confident and, well, a bit on the easy side."

"Easy as in stupid or easy as in easy to have?" Troy asked.

"Both, actually. I would love a boyfriend who is a lot dumber than I am - and pretty slutty, too. A real himbo if you catch my drift."

"Haha, yes, you're right. That's exactly me." Troy said. Actually, he wanted to say "That's *not* exactly me", but for some reason, it came out wrong entirely.

Before he could correct himself, though, he felt a strange tingling sensation all over his body. What the hell?

"I'm telling you, that's what I like." Luka explained further, completely oblivious to what was happening to Troy.

"Oh, really? That's good, I guess." Troy's voice sounded different, and it was getting harder and harder for him to concentrate. His body was changing, and so was his brain, but he couldn't understand what was going on.

"You know, you really helped me out a lot the last few months." Luka said. "I feel much better and happier after talking to you and..."

Luka's voice faded away as he looked at Troy. The man's face was changing, and he grew larger.

"Are... are you okay?"

Troy opened his eyes. "I don't know. I feel weird. Is it hot in here or is it just me?"

Luka took a step back. His roommate was growing, his arms and legs were getting thicker and bigger, and his chest was expanding. He was already filling out his clothes and the fabric was ripping. His shoulders became broader and the arms wider, and soon, Troy's glasses fell down as his face widened and his jaw became more prominent.

All the while his mind became foggier, and his knowledge and smarts quickly drained away. Why was he wearing a shirt that was clearly too small for him? Why was he wearing a shirt at all? Shirts were for wimps, and Troy was a man's man!

So, Troy wiggled out of his shirt before it became to constricting. Exposing his upper body was way better anyway - that way everyone could have a good look at his guns and his sculpted shaved chest.

While the now half naked man kept on transforming, his roommate was almost paralyzed.

"What... what is happening here?" Luka asked.

Troy laughed, his voice sounding deeper and rumbling. "I don't know, but this feels amazing. And it looks like you are enjoying the show, too!"

Luka looked down and noticed he was sporting a massive erection. He was completely transfixed by the display of masculinity his roommate was performing for him.

He didn't notice the pants Troy was wearing were ripped at the seams and quickly fell apart as his thighs were becoming bigger and bigger. However, when he looked back up again, he was looking eye level at a filled to the brim blue underwear. The dick hidden behind it must have been massive - and it was not even hard!

Luka gulped as he saw that the last part was slowly changing, and the strained blue fabric tented visibly, with a wet patch forming on it. He could only barely bring himself to stop staring at the hypnotizing bulge and up the masculine body of his roommate up to his face.

There was really nothing left of the old Troy. Here stood a confident and strong men - with a dumb smile on his face and eyes that didn't show too many signs of intelligence. A total himbo.

Troy grabbed his underwear and ripped it apart with a swift move. The now exposed and hardening cock was obscene, and Luka gasped when he saw it. He couldn't believe how big and thick the member was, and his own penis was throbbing in his pants.

"Here is what we're going to do, stud." Troy said seductively. "We're gonna fuck. All through the night. And then, I'm taking you out for breakfast, 'cause we're dating."

Also check out this blog!

[teddy06writes]

Morning Routines

Darry Curtis x autistic!gn!reader

Warnings: None

Premise: Slice of life of Darry with an autistic s/o

(The brain rot is fucking real. Also Darry is also autistic. I have another Darry one shot that I'm like halfway through)

Knock knock knock

"It's open! How many times have we told you don't need to knock sweetheart?" Darry asked, pulling open the door with a soft smile.

You held up the box of doughnuts the gang would surely inhale in a matter of minutes, and the drink carrier holding your usual morning drinks, "Hands were full."

For months now, you'd followed the same morning routine, week in and week out, arriving at the Curtis house each morning, in time to join them for breakfast, and help Darry usher his brothers through getting ready for work and school respectively.

Saturdays brought Darry's day off, and like clock work you would arrive with breakfast for the gang, and spend the morning with them until it was time to head off for your evening shift at the diner.

"How was work last night?" Darry asks, as you head through to the kitchen, having immediately taken both items from your hands.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, "Not fantastic, but there's been worse. Decent tips though."

Darry hummed, going through the cabinet to pull out plates, "Well, maybe tonight will be better."

"Hopefully," You sat at your usual seat at the kitchen table, pulling the newspaper toward you, and beginning to finger through the sections, "Nobody up yet?"

"Nah. Soda and Steve took the girls out last night, and Dal took Pony and Johnny down to the races with Two-Bit," He sat down beside you, "They didn't get back till late. Pony'll be out cold for at least another hour."

You pushed half the newspaper toward him, the sports section sitting on top, as he plopped the usual doughnuts onto your plates. You and Darry sat in comfortable silence, reading through the newspaper and drinking coffee.

Eventually, Johnny slipped into the kitchen quietly, hair and clothes from the day before mussed from sleeping on the couch. He sheepishly took a doughnut, like always, as you and Darry swapped sections of the paper.

Down the hall you could hear Soda starting to stirr, mumbling to himself as he padded to the bathroom. Johnny disappeared back into the living room and you could hear the low hum of whatever channel with early enough programming to show the westerns he liked. Soda shuffled through the kitchen, looking half awake until he spotted the doughnuts on the table, "Oh my god, I forgot it's Saturday!"

Excitedly, he filled a plate with a jelly and a sprinkled doughnut, holding up his hand to theatrically whisper to you, "This is why you're my favorite."

Darry rolled his eyes, swatting at his brother with his half of the paper, "Watch it little buddy."

Soda only laughed, heading for the living room, "Whatcha watchin Johnnycakes?"

You chuckled, refolding the paper neatly and reaching for the pen that always sat on the counter, "If doughnuts are all it takes to bribe that boy, I should be getting a free pop every time I stop by the DX."

Half an hour later, you were nearly finished with the crossword, when the screen door banged open, and Two Bits loud laugh was filling the house, punctuated by a loud groan from down the hall in Ponyboys room.

When you flinched at the noise, Darry scolded, "Don't you go slamming my door Mathews."

"Don't you go telling me to quiet down, Curtis," Two Bit appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with a fake stern look on his face, Steve hovering over his shoulder, "How am I meant to be quiet on the beautiful morning like this?"

Steve shoved him aside to get to the box of doughnuts first, "How should we know, you never shut your trap?"

You chuckled, rolling your pen in your fingers, "You've got a point."

"Keith Matthews and Steven Randle, I might've known," Ponyboy stood in the kitchen door, half wrapped in his quilt, and looking murderous, "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to mess with a man's slumber?"

"Well yeah, but I ain't bothering no mans slumber, Ponykid."

Pony was jumping at Two Bit in an instant, and you and Darry watched them wrestle across the kitchen tile. Unbothered, he returned to the paper as you watched Steve take advantage of their distraction to steal the last jelly doughnut. With a chuckle you shifted in your seat, rocking slightly.

"Is that good coffee I smell?" Dallas appeared in the kitchen, expertly dodging the on going rough housing and reaching to take the last to go cup from the carrier you had left on the counter.

"I want you to consider that your payment for getting those two jerks out of the diner last week." You said, pointing at him with your pen.

Darry raised an eyebrow, looking up from his paper, "Dallas Winston, doing a good deed? I didn't think I'd live to see the day."

Dally tried to shrug it off, diverting, "Hey is that the last jelly doughnut?"

Steve's eyes widened, having finally been caught, "Uhh-"

Immediately, Two Bit was giving up on pinning Pony down, "You took the last jelly?"

"Relax, there's still plenty of chocolate glazed." Darry reported as Ponyboy scrambled up off the ground.

As the four dragged the argument about the last of the doughnuts back to the living room you rocked in your seat, shaking your head fondly.

Darry leaned over to your crossword, tapping at 7 down, "Six letter word for family: insane."

With another chuckle, you dutifully noted it down, "Undoubtedly."

Even with the argument lowered to a dull roar, Johnny had pumped up the tv volume to compete, much to your dismay. You shifted in your seat again, trying to focus back on the last few crossword clues.

"Let's go sit out on the back porch, get away from them for a while," Sensing your discomfort, Darry began to gather his coffee and the sports section to review one more time, standing up and offering you his hand, "I'll even let you talk my ear off about that show you've been watching."

You grinned, taking your crossword in one hand, and his own hand in the other, "Sounds like a dream."

[umlewis]

From the Racetrack To Space: IWC Schaffhausen and the Polaris Program Give Lewis Hamilton Astronaut Flight Training

Schaffhausen/Qatar, 26th November 2024: In a compelling new short movie produced by IWC Schaffhausen, Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team driver Lewis Hamilton embarks on a flight training for astronauts. The same training was used to prepare the crews of the Inspiration 4 and Polaris Dawn commercial human spaceflight missions. During the training day, the seven-time Formula 1 world champion and IWC brand ambassador was accompanied by students from Dibia DREAM, a non-profit organisation fostering STEM education. Their presence is also a reminder of Lewis Hamilton's own incredible career journey spanning more than three decades and sends an inspiring message: you can be anything you want in life – a pilot on the racetrack, in the air or even in space.

One of the most successful racing drivers of all time, Lewis Hamilton is a multifaceted personality whose interests and ambitions extend far beyond his sport. The seven-time Formula 1 world champion is deeply fascinated by space and human space exploration. He has visited renowned space training facilities and repeatedly expressed his desire to take part in a space mission in the future if it serves a purpose and contributes to the betterment of all humanity. IWC Schaffhausen now teamed up with the Polaris Program and its Philanthropy Director and instructor pilot, John "Slick" Baum, to offer Lewis Hamilton an opportunity to experience the flight training that is part of the organization's programme of preparing astronauts for space. The Polaris Program, which is supported by IWC, recently completed the first of three human spaceflight missions. During their five days in orbit, the Polaris Dawn crew wrote history by successfully performing the first commercial spacewalk.

FLIGHT TRAINING IS ESSENTIAL FOR ASTRONAUTS

Fighter jet training has been at the heart of human spaceflight since the beginning. All early astronauts were fighter jet pilots, and experience in piloting a jet was an essential requirement for going to space. Flight training was also a key pillar in the preparation of the Inspiration 4 and Polaris Dawn crews for their missions. While the g-loads experienced in a jet or a rocket cannot be directly compared, as they affect the body in different ways, jet training still offers compelling benefits for astronauts. Most importantly, it allows the crew members to familiarise themselves with operating in a high-risk and high-consequence environment, similar to what they would experience during launch. While they are pressed down into their seats by several times their own body weight, they have to communicate with each other, go through extensive technical checklists, and monitor critical flight parameters – all while being mentally aware of their surroundings and prepared to act in case something unexpected should happen.

A COMPLETE SEQUENCE OF TRAINING MANOEUVRES

Lewis Hamilton's space training kicked off with an extensive briefing and inspection of the L-39 Albatros jet. John "Slick" Baum gave Hamilton a detailed overview of the manoeuvres they would fly and how they simulate different situations an astronaut experiences during a spaceflight. During their subsequent discovery flight lasting almost one hour, Hamilton and his instructor performed a series of manoeuvres. They practiced accelerations and decelerations to experience lateral g-forces, simulating the ascent of a rocket. They also practiced higher g-loads by banking or pitching the aircraft hard. A highlight was flying a parabola figure for a zero-g demonstration, during which Hamilton briefly experienced the feeling of weightlessness. A racing glove, which eventually began to float freely in the cockpit, was used as a zero-g indicator. In flight, the F1 pilot pulled a maximum of 7.5 g, which is more than astronauts typically experience on ascent. Hamilton wore a dedicated race suit featuring a "space mission" patch with his car number 44. He will wear the same suit during this weekend's race at the Lusail International Circuit in Qatar.

DIBIA DREAM STUDENTS SEND A POWERFUL MESSAGE

The training was also attended by a group of students from Dibia DREAM. This nonprofit organisation sparks social change through STEM education and recreational activities for underserved youth and has impacted the lives of 40,000 students across 32 states and twelve countries. The students spent the entire day engaging in a variety of activities related to space exploration. They also got a chance to meet with Hamilton and ask him questions prior to take-off. Their presence served as a powerful reminder of Hamilton's incredible journey, from his humble beginnings in karting at the age of eight to becoming one of the most acclaimed drivers in the history of motorsport. As the students cheered alongside the runway, they sent an uplifting message to youths around the world: you can be anything you want in life – whether it is a racing driver, a pilot, or even an astronaut.