#and sorry for being a femme too. i guess

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

i'd really have to twist myself in a lot of unnatural ways in order to be "sufficiently nonbinary" to a lot of acquaintances it seems

[sparklepoint]

for @loveotomization and the art trade prompt silence/kiss/betrayal :3c

[foccaccia]

does anyone have recommendations for fictional media that has like. actual lesbians in it. not like supergirl Two White Skinny Girls, One Blonde and One Brunette Kiss media, or "its implied lesbianism!!!" but just regular fucking lesbians

[sparklemaia]

Heyyy!!

So I've recently read a lot of your comics about top surgery, and I really resonate with your experience (I haven't had it myself but I'd like to). I've recently been exploring my own gender and realising I might be non binary, but I guess I feel sort of an imposter in that I want to keep my name and pronouns (afab), despite feeling like I never got the memo about what a "woman" is, which I know is fine, but I guess I was wondering how the shift from your agab into realising you were nb felt?

Like, you seem to describe your gender as sort of unknowable and indefinable, and I guess that's sort of how I feel? I just want to be... More me. I guess what I'm really asking is, how would you define/feel about that shift into realising you were nonbinary, do you still feel connected to your agab, how do you reconcile the two?

Sorry for the long ask!

Hi, this is such a good question! I actually DO still feel pretty connected to my agab. I feel like I am a girl but also more than a girl but also not enough of a girl, simultaneously. (Weirdly, I never ever feel like a woman, and definitely not a man, but I do feel like an adult at least some of the time.) Top surgery was 100% the right decision for me; my body feels so much more correct and I am grateful every single day this procedure was accessible to me. (I was on a low dose of T for a year and a half too, and I basically just got biceps and a sliiiightly lower voice out of it. We stan.) I simply don't have strong feelings about how these things do or do not map onto gender identity or other people's perceptions of my gender. I am generally perceived as female, and that's fine! Like, close enough! I often feel somewhere BETWEEN cis and trans, or even between cis and nonbinary, and sometimes I joke that I'm just "nonbinary for insurance purposes." I mostly use she/her pronouns, although won't object to they/them. I like my "feminine" name -- I chose it myself years ago for reasons unrelated to gender and I have no plans to change it again. In terms of gender presentation I'm usually somewhere in the "tomboy femme" zone. Basically, I've been through a medical transition but not a social transition. Which is not very common, or at least I haven't seen much representation of it! (Be the bad trans representation you want to see in the world, i guess??)

Even though the words are often used interchangeably, I feel more alliance to genderqueer as a label than nonbinary, because nonbinary feels too clinical and "third checkbox"y to me, whereas genderqueer feels more expansive and undefinable and dynamic, with space for the ways in which I both am and am not performing girlhood correctly. When pressed to pick a gender word for myself, that one feels the closest. But if I'm filling out a government form or whatever? Yeah sure F is fine.

A lot of where I land with this stuff, though, is just kind of relaxing my grip on language. Top surgery was a relief, it helped me feel present in and connected to my body. Ultimately it doesn't matter much to me how much of that was *gender* dysphoria and how much of it was just... something I wanted, a way to make my body feel more like mine, to align my mental image of myself with the thing I had to stuff into clothes and walk around the city every day. I believe very strongly in bodily autonomy, and in making our lives as easy and comfortable and joyful as we can for ourselves, without needing to have a clean and tidy explanation for our choices. It is very possible to know with reasonable certainty that you want something, that it will be a net positive for your life, without being able to articulate, even to yourself, WHY you want it. It doesn't need to have a bigger meaning than ahh yes, this feels right. At this point in my life, I'm more invested in marveling at the sheer improbability of my own existence than in wedging myself into the taxonomy of known and acceptable gender narratives. I'm just a person, here for the merest twinkle of a moment in cosmic history, making soup and knitting baby hats and admiring bugs and singing off-key and cutting my own hair and doing my gosh darn best to light my tiny patch of night sky with stories so that you (and you, and you) feel less alone on your own journey through the unfurling dark. Gender is just such an inconsequential detail in the narrative of my life, and pretty open to reader interpretation anyway.

Not having to wear bras is pretty great though ngl

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 6 - Nothing's wrong

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Nothing specific, I don’t think? Bucky still being a dick. But what else is new?

I think you guys are going to find this satisfying hehehehe.

You marched back to the bar with your head held high, refusing to allow yourself to look over at Amber and Bucky and tie yourself up in knots any longer. You checked the time on your phone and placed it on the bar shelf behind you, almost closing. You’d finish up, then when you got home you’d think about if you really want to stay in this job.

“Gonna do last call, Tom, then I’ll cash out and if you could start cleaning up”.

“Got it, boss” he replied happily.

You smiled back. You absolutely weren’t his boss, but he was sweet.

You rang the bell for last call and announced it loudly to the bar. A few of the plant guys came rushing over to order their last beers. Tom handled that while you served a couple of other dawdlers.

A tall man in a baseball cap appeared suddenly, grinning as he brandished a $20 bill.

“For you,” he said softly. “For putting up with our annoying, drunk asses all night”.

You chuckled, accepting the tip as you looked at him properly. You’d seen him earlier with the other plant guys but not really paid much attention as your focus was on the obscene number of drinks his friends kept ordering.

He was…kinda cute. A scruff of almost reddish-brown hair under his cap. Big green eyes. A dusting of stubble across his chin and jaw. Not quite as big as Bucky, but broad and sturdy.

“Ah well thank-you so much...you guys kept me busy…and I got a bunch of tips, so I guess I can’t complain,” you told him cheerily as you folded the bill and put it in your pocket. “Plus, you’ve all been well behaved, despite how much you’ve knocked back”.

“Well…this bar has the most bouncers we’ve ever seen,” he joked, thumbing the air in the direction of the MC.

You laughed. “True…that does make my job a little easier”.

“I’m sure being super cute helps too,” he grinned as he leaned in. Then his face immediately crumpled. “Oh…my god. I’m sorry. So, so lame. It sounded so smooth in my head…”

You giggled shyly, charmed by his embarrassment. “No…no it was sweet. Thanks…”

You felt yourself blushing a little, heat rushing to your cheeks as you were caught off guard by this interaction. Your previous anger melting away. You felt lighter suddenly.

“I’m Peter. Peter Quill. Hey”.

You beamed back and offered your own name as you shook the hand he’d extended to you.

You both looked at one another for a moment, your smile stretching as you allowed yourself to bathe in his attention.

“It’s last call man, you orderin’?” came a surly voice from behind Peter.

Bucky suddenly had appeared at the bar, his eyes flitting between you both.

“Uh…no, I’m good for tonight, thanks. Was just tipping your very helpful bartender before I head out”.

You smiled back at him, ignoring the heat of Bucky’s gaze on you.

“Yes…thank-you. Very much appreciated, Peter,” you responded.

You both turned to look at Bucky who seems to blanch as you use Peter’s name, but he makes no effort to move. He looked…pissed off? Riled up? His fists were clenched at his sides, his mouth a thin straight line. You weren’t sure why he was suddenly hanging around here like a bad smell, especially as he had been indisposed all evening.

Wait…is Bucky…?

Peter looked back at you, then awkwardly at Bucky, then back to you again. “Could I…uh…”

Realisation hit you like a freight train.

Oh god. He is…

…He’s jealous.

Bucky is jealous.

Peter looked at Bucky once more who remained still, watching Peter carefully. Peter seemed to accept that he had an awkward audience of one and looked back at you again before clearing his throat.

“Maybe…uh…I could get your number and we could…y’know…go out some time?”

Your face lit up and you ignored the almost imperceptible sound of the puff of air Bucky huffed out of his noise.

 “Uh…sure. Great”.

You grabbed a napkin from the holder on the bar and a pen from your pocket and scribbled down your number, practically nauseous with the dual feeling of getting a date with a cute guy and Bucky bearing witness to it. You smiled at Peter as you pushed the napkin across the bar with your fingers.

He picked it up like it was a precious artefact, holding it close to his face as he inspected it.

“Wow…right amount of numbers and everything,” he joked.

You giggled back bashfully. “Yep…I promise it’s real and not the number of a pizza place or something…”

“Honestly? I’d be impressed you had the the number for the pizza place memorised even if it did mean I was rejected…”

You both laughed and he carefully folded up the napkin and put it in his pocket. At the same time, a bunch of his group had started to down the dregs of their drinks and drift towards the exit. One nudged him on the arm as he passed, mumbling something about ‘Rocket’ being designated driver. Whatever the hell that means.

“Well…better get going. I’ll uh…see ya” he smiled.

You nodded and smiled in return as he turned and headed out. Once he’d left, you kept your eyes down and picked up a washcloth, rhythmically dabbing at the sticky drink residue on the bar surface. You could feel Bucky still looming over you, but he hadn’t said anything. You sprayed some cleaning fluid and continued.

“You’re still on the clock you know,” he muttered.

“Oh...Am I not working right now?” you asked ingenuously as you kept your eyes down on your busywork. You knew your tone was pushing it, but frankly, so was he.

“You are now…but you weren’t…then”.

The emphasis on ‘then’ was loaded and it was clear what 'then' exactly he was referring to.

“Well…I’m sorry you lost those three minutes,” you answered sharply, turning to look at him. You narrowed your eyes at his stoic frown. “How about I stay an extra three minutes after my shift…and we call it even?”

He glared back at you, knowing he didn’t have a leg to stand on and so was unable to say anything back. He'd never been strict about you chatting to customers or taking short breaks before, so he couldn't suddenly start now.

“I need to speak to you anyway,” you continued calmly as you resumed your cleaning. “About this job”.

You looked back up at him and swore you saw a flash of panic in his eyes, but it was gone so fast you couldn’t be sure.

Suddenly Amber bounded up to the bar, oblivious to the strange tension between the two of you. You suppressed an eye roll and went back to your washcloth.

“Bucky…the girls have asked if there’s an after party tonight?” she asked coyly, draping herself over him like a scarf.

Your phone vibrated loudly on the bar shelf behind you, causing both you and Bucky to glance over at it. He couldn’t fully see from his vantage point, but you watched as Wanda’s name flashed up on the screen. She was texting you, not a super keen Peter on his way home.

But Bucky didn’t know that…

“Don’t worry, boss,” you told him sweetly. “I won’t pick that up until I’m off the clock”.

His nose wrinkled and for a split second he looked like a wounded puppy. If he wasn’t such an asshole you might have felt sorry for him.

“James?” Amber whined. “Party?”

You looked at him incredulously, an eyebrow cocked. His real name was James?!

He was the least Jamesy James you’d ever met.

“Nope, not tonight” he sternly replied to her, but his eyes stayed on you.

“Tell Sam you need a ride, Ambs. I gotta do some work stuff”.

And with that, he stormed off to the back office.

Amber pouted as she watched him go, then looked back at you. “What’s up with him?”

You shrugged. “Beats me”.

She sighed and flopped down onto a bar stool, then began rifling through the napkins and straws, causing a small pile of them to spill out onto the bar. Great, thanks Amber. You hadn’t just refilled those or anything.

“He talks about you, you know” she told you softly as she looked down at an errant straw, perfectly manicured fingers wrapping around it.

You nearly spluttered laughing in shock. “Me?” you asked her.

Never in a million years did you expect her to say that.

“Mmm…” she purred as she put the straw in her mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully. Ugh, she really was pretty.

“Like he says you’re good at your job and stuff. But also that you’re funny. And smart. And stuff like that”.

You tilted your head as you looked at her, the wind taken out of your sails from the sheer shock of what she was telling you.

“Huh…” you responded as you try to downplay your sudden interest. “Well…that’s nice of him, I guess”.

“Ya…” she nodded.

“Amber…?” you asked.

She looked up at you and smiled.

“Is he really called James?”

She giggled. “Ya. He’s like...James Buchanan. Buchanan is his middle name. So, they all call him Bucky. He only lets certain people call him James. Special privileges”.

“I see,” you nodded. “Like you, huh?”

She sighed, pouting sadly. “Mmm…but…I dunno how ‘special’ I really am these days”.

Before you could ask what she meant, she changed the subject suddenly.

“Saw you talking to that guy from the plant. He was cute”. She grinned at you.

You found yourself laughing at the sudden tone shift and the excited glee on her face. Maybe she wasn’t so bad.

“Yeah…he is,” you nodded. “I haven’t really been on the dating scene for a while though. Not sure if I remember how…”

You weren’t sure why you told her that…

She just giggled. “Oh…shut up. Look at you. You’re a total hottie. You’ll be great”.

You felt your cheeks flush, but before you could say anything else she stood up from the bar stool and called out across the bar.

“Saaaammy. I need a ride!”

“I got you, baby girl!” he called back.

She grinned at you as she sauntered off. “Well…good luck with cute guy”.

You watched her go, slightly shell shocked by the whole exchange.

Huh. That was…a lot.

*

Steve told you he’d lock up so after cleaning up and cashing out, you bid Tom and the MC farewell and headed out to the parking lot. You hadn’t seen Bucky…James…since his dramatic exit. But you couldn’t help but mull over what Amber had told you. What did she mean, ‘he talks about you’? What does he say exactly? How does he say it? What did she mean when she said she didn’t feel special these days? Did she know about your kiss?

And Bucky was clearly jealous of Peter, right? He wasn’t subtle about it. But he had ignored you all evening until that happened. Maybe it was just territorial bullshit rather than anything deeper.

Speaking of Peter…why were you even thinking about Bucky? You now had this sweet, funny guy on the cards who was upfront about his interest in you…unlike Bucky.

…So why couldn’t you just focus on him?

You sighed. You shouldn’t be getting involved with any man right now. It all had an expiration date anyway. You were here to sort the house and that was that. Granny would tease you for allowing yourself to get distracted, just like always.

As you approached your car, you nearly jumped out of your skin as you realised there was a dark figure leaning against the bonnet.

“Bucky! Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” you scolded as you placed a hand on your chest. “You scared the shit out of me”.

He stopped leaning, standing back up to his full height.

“We need to talk, Sugar” he said bluntly.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

I love the Gravity Falls fandom because, like, you can headcanon any character as trans in any direction with like. Three exceptions.

Uh, headcanons below cut I guess

Dipper? We can make a good case for trans masc and trans femme. I tend towards trans masc because he's a little guy and just like me fr fr, but like, I like her, too, I find her cute in the punt-that-small-child-(affectionate) way.

Stan and Ford? Well, they're identical and I've seen a lot of them both being transmasc which I love and trans femme Stan and Ford actually make me feral. I need to do some things with transfemme Stan and Ford actually, I've seen them floating around and they're so cute and wholesome. Old trans sisters to me.

Side headcanon, Stan and Ford are extremely accepting even if they're cishet. Like Stan to me knew queer people in New York who died in the AIDS crisis. Like he can name people on the AIDS quilt to me and the only reason he wasn't hit by it and didn't die to it is he had to move to Gravity Falls. And Ford has a weird conception of gender that's shockingly progressive because multiverse.

Soos, okay, well, I haven't seen trans Soos around but like. First of all, super neglected character (I say as I do nothing with him). And second of all we are SLEEPING on trans Soos. A couple of the reasons for transfemme Dipper hold up here, mostly being the going-only-by-a-nickname thing. But also like, Soos's abuelita seems like just the most tolerant person ever and would so just go "Oh. I have a grandson/daughter now." and move on with her life. And also can someone draw transfemme Soos because I have a vision and if you saw it you'd agree because I can't get over her but like I can't even describe it it's just. Transfemme Soos in a corset. Transfemme Soos putting on a skirt for the first time. You feel me? Oh, and nonbinary Soos, too, just like. Soos went from very cis to the most gender human being ever to me very fast.

The three exceptions to me are Wendy, Mabel, and Pacifica (and it's up for debate whether Pacifica's even an exception).

Mabel is always transfemme. She can't for the life of me be a guy and I can't explain why. She's either transfemme or cis. Sorry, that's a girl to me and she always will be.

Wendy is either a cis woman or a trans man, and probably honestly falls on either extremely-masculine-man or tomboy-cis-woman for me. I can't really see her as transfemme.

And Pacifica is trans masc to me. I don't even see him as cis, he's just a guy. A man. Alternatively, the reason he's one of the execptions is because I was working on Divine Falls stuff and I went "what if he's genderfluid lol" and then "oh wait that's actually cool" so he's either a trans man or genderfluid to me, but like. He's genderfluid in the "getting my tits cut off and taking hormones does not make my gender one thing, I am unknowable and my gender is whatever pisses you off the most" sorta way. (Unrelated I think genderfluid Pacifica would do great on Tumblr)

[moonflowerdamie]

rating yellowjackets ships (lowest to highest!) because i am bored and also because i want people to know just how insane i am for some of the pairings in this show‼️ LETSGOOOOO

•travnat—3/10•

they’re…ok i guess? like. i don’t actively hate them, but i really don’t ship them. and yeah i get that they clung to each other and bonded over dad trauma and stuff, but a) i don’t like travis (PLS DONT ATTACK ME HE’S JUST NOT FOR ME AND I COULDNT GET OVER THE MISOGYNY) and b) i fully believe natalie scatorccio is AT LEAST bisexual and deserves a lady lover!!! so yeah. not for me.

•mistynat—4/10•

ok. OK. hear me out PLEASE bc i know some people are gonna be mad i’ve put them this low. i just don’t really see it? like i fully believe that it’s possible misty had a crush on nat in the teen timeline and i’m pretty convinced adult misty was definitely infatuated/obsessed with adult nat BUT i don’t think nat ever reciprocated? and i can’t see her ever feeling that way about misty IM SORRY. i don’t hate the ship by any means, it’s just not my favourite!!!

•jackielot—5/10•

they’re both pretty femme lesbians and i think maybe they should smooch (and then smooch ME MY GAWD PLS ONE CHANCE😫🙏🏻). that’s all i have to say about that.

•shaunanat—5/10•

i just know the rivalry in s3 is gonna HIT and maybe they should kiss and make up about it (AND THEN KISS ME TOO MY FUCKING LORD I NEED THEM BOTH SO BAD🫦). but fr i mean like a cute idea in another world yk? they would SO bully the shit out of each other and then fuck nasty about it🤝.

•crystal x misty (crusty😭)—6/10•

they were cute!!! they matched each other’s freak🥹 until misty freaked a little too hard 😔 no but actually they could’ve been cute musical theatre gfs and i would’ve been here for it!!!

•taishauna—6/10•

i LOVE their friendship in both timelines and i do prefer them platonically BUT i see the potential. i think they soften each other, and allow the other to process and feel their emotions, and also help to rationalise them. LOVE the friendship and if i didn’t prefer their other ships i could defo see myself getting into them!

•lottielee—7/10•

the disciple and the prophet??? uhhh YEAH. i mean laura lee literally haunts lottie for 25 YEARS. that bitch NEVER got over what they had. are they my favourite ship? no. do i wish they’d kissed in that lake? YES YES YES YES YES. the yearning, the religious symbolism/guilt, the TENDERNESS. i am IN.

•lottieshauna—8/10•

BRRSKLLAKSKS just yes. YES. THE PROPHET AND HER BUTCHER😫. their relationship is so complicated and beautiful but i think they could be very special, specifically in the teen timeline. they’re so fiercely protective of each other but would never admit it. they hate each other. they admire each other. they resent each other. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. i wholeheartedly believe lottie was shauna’s bi awakening when they were like 13 and shauna never really stopped thinking lottie was gorgeous. just. THEM.

•jackienat—8/10•

i am a SUCKER for the popular x loser trope and even more so when they’re LESBIANS😁 like lottie was shauna’s awakening, nat was jackie’s. ONE MILLION PERCENT they were childhood besties and one day they kissed ‘to practice’ when they were like 11 and jackie was like ‘OH😨’ and knew then and THERE she was a lesbian. i love them your honour. like shaunanat, i think they’d bully each other, but i also think they’d be so soft with each other. OH and nat would SO tease jackie for being popular and rich and preppy and call her ‘princess’ in jest but would for real treat her like a princess and would beat up anyone who said a bad word about her. yes PLEASEEEEE.

•taivan—10/10•

THEEE IT COUPLE! they are just *mwah* chef’s kiss. especially in the teen timeline! they just balance each other so perfectly, like they were LITCHRALLY made for each other🥹. van is goofy and silly and a dreamer, tai is serious, intense; a realist. they just so clearly love each other so so much and i ADORE THEM. ‘happy wife happy life’ YYYYEEEAHHHHH. i’m gonna be so devastated when they eventually break up in the teen timeline and DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED on if/when van dies in the adult timeline☹️. not even thinking about it actually. just them and their soft tender gay love🤗.

•lottienat—1000000/10•

i genuinely will start tweaking if i think about these two for too long. they just make me so ASKSHSLSLSJSJ😫. i don’t even think i can articulate how much i love them. the rich girl and the burnout. the hunter and the prophet. THEY ARE SO PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER. the bath scene????? DIED DEAD ON THE FLOOR. ‘is that what we are’ GONE REQUIRING CPR. lottie kissing nat’s hands for so long after giving up her leadership, the last thing she had left? SIX FEET FUCKING UNDER😨. nah but fr, i NEEEED them to kiss. they would be so good for each other. the potential is…UNFUCKINGLIMITED (i am choosing to ignore the fact that nat’s dead thank you xoxo). just…the tenderness. the pining. they’re narrative foils. they’re enemies. they’re friends. they’re something more. YELLOWJACKETS…DROP A LOTTIENAT KISS IN S3 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS🙏🏻.

and finally…my fucking roman empire…

•jackieshauna—9999999999999/10•

there is a hole in my heart in the shape of these two. they’re…EVERYTHING. god they just loved each other so much but life and the wilderness and jeff and their own self-destruction got in the way. jackie loved shauna so much it killed her. shauna loved jackie so much she ATE her. they were completely undefinable—best friends, rivals, soulmates. entirely devoted. i just ache when i think about what they could have had. the tragedy of them is life-altering. shauna will miss jackie for longer than she knew her and that fact makes me want TO OFF MYSELF. they are intertwined forever, not knowing where one ends and the other begins. i wholeheartedly believe they were in love with each other but didn’t know how to say it. because of jeff, because it was 1996, because love couldn’t even possibly cover what it was they felt for each other. in my head, they’re together. in my head, they ran away together and lived a long and happy life. and it kills me to know that’s not what happened. they actually make me fucking insane and i’ll never get over them.

now have some memes bc i’m silly like that🤭

[meanbossart]

Spicy Asks: The Sequel is here. I'm so, so sorry.

Oh he's a very passive guy, he likes being manhandled around and not having to do much of the work (a bit of a pillow princess one might say). As far as fetishes go, he does have fantasies about group sex and of being roughed up, but I think if put in a situation where he could practice it in a controlled environment he'd be like "EHHHH nevermind actually" and go home very quickly LOL

DU drow would have 100% banged Lae'zel if he hadn't killed her. He couldn't stand her personality but they would have gotten on like two peas in a pod in the sack.

He does find Shadowheart very pretty, but they struck up a friendship so quickly that I don't think he could see her in that way 🤷 but that's still a smash, technically speaking.

Jaheira. Ohhhh Jaheira. As far as general dynamics go she would have been the best choice after Astarion, probably - though there is no way in hell or high heavens that she would have ever let him touch her LOL regardless, DU drow finds her looks and personality to be very attractive.

He's pretty much utterly indifferent to anyone else. Wyll is too idealistic, Gale is Gale, Karlach isn't his type, Halsin gets on his nerves - oh, he WOULD have banged Mizora if he hadn't been heads over heels for Astarion by that point.

The man just likes his femmes I guess LOL

HMMMMMMM yes, but since it's not really a porn fic expect any scenes like that to be in line with what we've had so far, where there's more of a focus on developing character dynamics rather than gratuitousness (I hope I've gotten that across, at least LOL).

LOL, It's ok, it's a ridiculous not-name and I'm so sorry for all the people I have made confused and will continue to confuse because of it.

As for your question, definitely not! I personally like big-bottom/smaller-top scenarios so that's why I focus on it, and I do think character-wise those are the roles they fall into most naturally - but they switch around every so often when the mood strikes and it isn't really a big deal.

Oh are you kidding me? The guy LOVES being cared after in an intimate setting. Being doted on, groomed, checked up on, having his hair played with and clothes fixed up - he doesn't express it outwardly much, but these are all things that make his murderous little heart skip a beat. He was the same way pre-tadpole but it was mostly servants and Sceleritas doing it, so he didn't get much out of the exchange; and Orin didn't entertain this at all, or, if she ever did, it was very, very, very rarely and really just a crumb of intimate affection that he most likely misread anyways.

I'm not sure what to say to this one LOL the penis is full of blood already man I don't think a vampire needs to make it any more tempting to themselves to chomp down.

I wrote a thing about that not too long ago :D ! The answer is complicated but, mostly yes.

Alright you joke, but, if you don't think DU drow hasn't spent a little too long lingering over Astarion's feet and ankles then I got amazing news for you.

I touched on what they generally like on the previous edition of Wine Fuelled Spicy Asks, but as for what they like to do as a couple, it's probably a lot of body worship and some playful denial on both ends. Du drow thinks Astarion is the most elegant and limber thing he's ever seen (and he loves how he smells), and Astarion thinks DU drow's body is an expertly put together murder machine. They have a great time being mutually enamored with each other's (and their own) appearances.

I think they also venture into some blood-play and vapid threats of violence in the future, as a treat, but takes a while for them to trust themselves and each other enough to indulge in that kind of thing.

Needs a little direction, plus you gotta learn to enjoy a bit of teeth and a very slobbery time - also I think he distracts easily, It's nice to have a man who's willing to venture the whole perimeter with his mouth but sometimes you do just want him to stay on the prick. But generally speaking - yes, DU drow gives good head. Fun head, even!

What do you people want from me? Do you want schematics? Diagrams? Do you want me to compare their holes to famous people holes? Do you want me to take out my measuring tape and give you numbers, tell you which kind of produce each of them can fit in there???

One is pink, the other one is brown. One of them just looks normal and the other looks and feels a little like it been around the block a few times. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW.

[merajsblog]

Can you do Blue Lock Rin x female reader x Sae? The reader is a very sweet and kind girl. The Itoshi brothers are fighting for her love.

authors note: hi!! :) my first ask! i will absolutely try my best to do this for sure. obviously the reader is femme, and is in a love triangle. no set relationships yet! just some itoshi brothers pining for a girl :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

you had known the itoshi family for some time now. you couldn’t say you were particularly close to them, but you were closer with their kids, rin itoshi and sae itoshi.

rin had a particular aura around him, one that differed from his older brother, sae, in a lot of ways. they shared some similar traits like their cold, calculating stares, but rin was a little more passionate than sae was. not to say sae wasn’t a passionate person, it just wasn’t something your noticed off the bat like with rin. they both devoted themselves to soccer.

rin was devoted to the challenge. he didn’t like half baked stuff. he wanted something that challenged his norm, and looked beyond the threshold. he was cold and calculating, much like his older brother. he liked horror, and yoga. his soccer seemed almost rooted in desperation.

sae on the other hand, was a little older. he had lived in spain, and he kept wanting to go back. he was calculating and manipulative at times. he was straightforward and honest. his soccer was rooted in searching.

it was a cold day, winter at its finest. you had gone to see your family friends, and especially the itoshi brothers. your relationship with them was…interesting. you were polar opposites, while being polite and kind instead of calculating and cold. there was something about this opposition that attracted both of them to you. maybe it was your sweetness that drugged both of them to lust for you, even though they dreaded feeling that way towards someone out of their control. they had control of everything, at least on the field, but this was way out of their league.

“oh please y/n, come inside its freezing out there!!” says mrs. itoshi. you stepped inside, finally seeking refuge from the storm outside. it was time for your yearly visit to see the family.

you grinned kindly at the older woman for letting you in, doing your respectful bow.

“oh hello y/n” a familiar voice says to you from the stair case. you look upwards, batting your eyelashes at rin itoshi. his hair was swooped forward a bit, and dark teal. his eyes were mesmerizing, a vibrant teal color. you could see from where you were standing his long lashes fluttering as he walked down the stairs with his strong demeanor. he was donned in a button up and slacks, your guess was it was his mom who coerced him to dress nicely. his button up wasn’t fully buttoned, leaving one open button at the top. you smiled, “hello rin! how have you been?” you asked, taking off your shoes slowly.

“i’ve been good.” he says curtly. he’s avoiding eye contact. you let out a soft huff, “is that all? tell me about this soccer thing you’ve been at! i’ve heard all about it from school.” you say, looking up at him from the entry way.

“oh, yea it’s been pretty cool we actually just-“

he gets cut off, pulling your arm towards him, almost into his chest, as the door behind you unlocks and opens again. sae is standing in the door way, the tip of his nose is red. he must’ve been standing outside for a while…

“oh, y/n, i didn’t know you were gonna be here yet. sorry for the intrusion, i was just throwing the trash out.” sae says, donning a crooked smile looking at you. he’s also wearing a button up, except the top few buttons aren’t done, revealing much more than you thought you’d see.

you stifle out a laugh. “it’s nice to see you too sae.” you say, smiling as you politely angle your head down in a casual bow. he takes this opportunity to ruffle the top of your head as he passes by, ignoring rin. you turn around, heat spreading in your cheeks.

“i can take your coat if you want..” rin mumbles out. you grab your coat and give it to him, before walking into the kitchen of the house. there’s food everywhere, in nice plates, and sae is pouring himself a glass of something to drink. his red coral hair is smooth in the ambient light, his back to you. he has the same beautiful teal eyes as his younger brother.

“i was just telling her about the recent game we had.” rin says, leaning against the door way, right next to you. you can smell his expensive cologne.

sae snickers. “the game i lost in?”

“yes that game.” rin says sharply.

you’re looking at the two of them, as they talk. you couldn’t tell if this was banter or something worse.

“just know that i wasn’t really trying at the beginning, i was just testing out shidou. i didn’t even break a sweat the entire time.” sae says, focusing on his drink, smiling at himself.

the air feels tense. rin opens his mouth to retort, when you hear the door open once more. you all turn to look, seeing more family friends pour in the hallway. you’re tapping on rins arm now,

“rin where is the restroom again?” you ask making direct eye contact. it’s like lightning striking through you when you make contact like this. it’s sharp and hard to ignore. he’s opening his mouth, and moving his arm almost as if to take your hand to lead you over, when sae speaks right next to you.

“i can show you. i want to grab something from my room anyways. come with me.” he says, handing his drink to rin before softly grabbing your forearm.

“she asked me you know.” rin says, eyes boring into saes skull. he is clenching the drink. you put your hand on his arm, “it’s fine, we’ll be back soon okay? then i can catch you up on school.” you say, smiling softly. you and rin shared the same grade, while sae was a little above you guys.

sae is already ushering you towards the area where the bathroom is and up the stairs.

“i got you a little gift actually..you can use my bathroom too.” sae says, still walking ahead of you. you can’t see his expression at all. he’s always been a little harder to read than rin. rin always shared the same peachy cheek, puppy eyed look with you, but with sae you had no idea what was going on in his head.

it’s not long before you’re in his room. it’s rather empty, but it makes sense since he doesn’t really live here anymore. he hands you a box, a small bracelet with a gem on it.

“it’s your birthstone actually…” he says scratching the back of his head. he also isn’t making eye contact with you. the bracelet is adorable and when he puts it on your wrist, it seems almost like it fits perfectly.

“thank you sae, this was really sweet of you, but i didn’t get you anything besides the family gifts…” you say starting to pout. maybe your family sized chocolates you brought wasn’t good enough this time..

he lets out a small smile, “no you’re fine i just felt like giving you this something special. oh! the bathroom is right there by the way, i’ll be out in the hallway if you need anything.” he says, starting to walk away. you head in, fixing your appearance in the mirror. you could swear you hear talking outside saes room in the hallway.

you’re about to step out after opening the door, when you hear the booming echo of all the guests in the living room. it’s almost overwhelming for a second. here you are, in a house that isn’t entirely familiar, struggling between two angsty boys. you’re frozen in the middle of the hallway.

“are you okay?” you hear someone ask behind you. whipping around, you see rin looming there behind you.

“oh, yea no i’m fine it was just..a little loud for a minute there…i swear there wasn’t THAT many people before…” you said nervously chuckling.

“yea they kinda all just appeared..i went to my room for a minute but then i saw you just standing here like an npc…” he says, seriously.

you can’t help but laugh a little at that.

“do you want to head down with me? or do you want to take a minute up here?” he says, cocking his head a little. “everyone will love you down there, trust me. how could anyone not like someone like you.” he mutters.

“we can head down, thanks for coming with me.” you said, now it was your turn to look away. the blush was looming over your face. he was standing awfully close. his cologne was intoxicating. you turn around slowly, heading towards the stairs. there is swarms of people crawling around downstairs. you stop at the crest of the top of the stairs case. a warm hand is placed on your lower back. his touch is like a spark as your goosebumps go up.

“i can go first, just follow close behind me, okay?” rin whispers in your ear, moving seamlessly around you. he’s headed down the stairs case, stepping a few steps, before turning around, beckoning you to come. you follow not long after. you two step down the staircase, while sae is sitting at the bottom. he seems preoccupied with a conversation, probably what you were hearing while in the bathroom.

he’s staring now, his eyes boring into yours.

as you two reach the bottom of the stairs, sae immediately starts speaking to you.

“sorry about that, i got pulled away, i was gonna head back up there to see if you were doing okay.” he said, ignoring his old conversation.

rin scoffs before starting to head past sae.

“do you like the bracelet i bought for you?” sae questions, stopping rin in his tracks. rin usually notices anything new about you. how could he not? he noticed your new shoes, and how your mascara was sitting on your pretty eyelashes. your eyes seemed lighter due to the season change. how often you furrowed your brows when anxious.

“i love it, it is really beautiful sae. and thank you rin for coming down with me.” you say, trying to please both of them.

“how sweet of you to say that.” sae cooes, particularly in jab to rin. they’re both standing at the bottom of the stair case, looking up at you. what in the world was going on with them tonight. it felt almost like…a competition.

it couldn’t be that they were both pining for your attention, could it be?

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Sometime Dreamers (crossover fic)

Summary: Doctor Who/Sandman crossover, 2nd person femme/female reader (though it's very vague through most of the story)

A/N: Launching this monstrosity as part of the Winter Solstice Writing Event even though I spent the morning puking and wrestling with a piece of toast. The Sandman elements will integrate in upcoming installments, I swear. *Eyebrow waggles* Interactions help me shout down my depression and get bits out faster! Love you all, and thank you for your support!

1.

The extraordinary finds you on an ordinary walk.

The sky’s all grey clouds and rainy breezes, even when the forecasters insist it’s blue. Half of the year’s leaves crunch underfoot. Half still give you a reason to look up and marvel.

Really, everything’s fine, even if you’re tired, too tired, worryingly tired, and you’re too wrapped up with thoughts of the House to pay attention to your feet, and you should get back to your latest assignment, or maybe –

“Ooof.”

Brown fabric in your face, your sneakers tangling with his – a full-on collision in front of god and everyone. The man’s so skinny you could’ve dodged fifty ways around him. Instead, you’re wrapped around each other in a bid against gravity.

You look up into brown eyes full of questions. Pretty. And sad. And distracting. You’re still touching, and it’s time you did something about that.

“I am so sorry.” You sort out your feet first, reclaiming your balance before abashedly releasing the fistful of trench coat you’d snared. Then you catch yourself trying to smooth away the wrinkles. Shit. Well. Too late to keep your hands to yourself, but you fold them behind your back anyway, smiling to convince the stranger you’re entirely harmless and definitely weren’t coming on to him, and damn you’re spiraling again. Time for more caffeine. Past time. The walk’s left you tired. You’d hoped it would finally energize you past the malaise hanging over the House. No such luck.

“Oh, no. My fault entirely.” He smiles with his teeth, and it’s definitely a lie, but at least he’s being nice about it. “I never watch where I’m going. But if you wouldn’t happen to – Are you feeling alright?” His whole face wrinkles around the thought, sharpening to pierce your thoughts. He looks in one of your eyes, then swings to the next, mumbling as he reaches in his coat.

“I’m fine. No harm done. You?”

He pulls out a whining device and shines its blue light in your face. “No, that’s not what I mean at all. You look awful.”

After months of obsessive dreams and a lethargy you can’t shake, yeah, of course you look awful. You have a mirror. You had a first-row seat to watch the shadows grow under your eyes. It isn’t even something your roommates dare bring up, because they have their own bruises and drooping smiles. Trust the pretty stranger to be an asshole, though.

Using the side of your hand to guide the buzzing light away, you clear your throat and ask, “I wouldn’t happen to what?”

“What?” He returns the light to his pocket, fishes out a pair of glasses, and squints at you again.

“You were going to ask me something.”

“Oh, right. Yes. Well. I guess you would happen to. You sort of already have, or do, not sure yet. Nice to meet you, by the way.” He thrusts out his hand and grins again, trying to wipe the slate clean and yank the wool over your eyes, like this was a perfectly normal introduction. “I’m the Doctor.”

You accept the handshake but only offer your first name. He repeats it, beaming and glancing around like your name might appear in print on the side of a building.

“Live around here, then?”

Ah, nah. Too far, too fast. He’s not pretty enough to die for. Even though you don’t live alone, common sense screams against telling a strange man where you live.

“I’m just out for a walk.”

Nodding, slipping his hands into his pockets, he accepts the refusal. “Nice place for a walk.”

Thank all fuck. He has tact if not manners. “Very. And it was nice bumping into you, but I’d better continue on mine.” You pass, spin on our heel, and take a few steps backwards. Maybe he was going to ask you for directions, and you don’t want to leave on a sour note, because the poor man might just be awkward. “There’s a lake if you keep going that way. And if you cut through the empty lot there’s a little woods. Or just follow the road and you’ll find some pubs and shops and things. If you’re lost or thirsty, I mean.”

“Oh,” he smiles, “I love a little woods.”

Strange, definitely strange, but fun. So long as he doesn’t follow you home and murder your in your sleep, you’ll work a story around those deep, sad eyes. You’ll dream up fabulous, new worlds for those well-worn Converse to wander. “Good to meet you. Sorry I was a bit of a road hazard.”

“Mutual. The hazard was mutual. Enjoy your walk.”

You face away and continue in the opposite direction. When you reach a good corner you peek over your shoulder, but he’s gone. It’s a relief, if a little sad. The end of an odd little tale, and the end of the story is always the worst part, even when it’s happy.

It’s another two miles back to the House. Your feet carried you far away, but your mind is still in your room, turning over fragments of inescapable scenes.

Mind and body meet on the doorstep. You come back to yourself, vaguely aware of how shaky your legs feel as you put your key in the lock and push through into the entry way.

Art crawls over the walls, growing across the ceiling. Decades of creatives moving through have left their mark in every imaginable way, and the lot you live with are busy adding their own. Jeremy’s painted a starling over the hallway mirror, and Blithe Sharpied her band’s logo at the foot of the stairs months ago.

Despite the chaos of the House’s interior design, it’s dead quiet. Where is everyone? In bed, probably. Asleep or wishing they were. They’re all under the weather, too, and if they have the energy to get up and be productive, they can only work quietly.

Blithe’s guitar hasn’t serenaded anyone in the wee hours of the morning for weeks, and you’re sure she’s missing rehearsals. Trevor hasn’t been to an audition in just as long. And Jeremy, well, he was always a bit quiet. He liked to keep his headphones on while he painted, and the biggest racket he ever made was when he knocked over the tray with his palette and brushes.

But none of them had ever been so lifeless. Jeremy made the old house’s creaking boards sing in the odd hours as he went from the attic to the kitchen for tea or biscuits. Trevor should be laughing on the phone with someone. Blithe should be composing new music to transcribe on the walls. No one seems like themselves, and all the doctors could do was mumble about stress and lifestyle choices.

But at least you’re home.

You’re tired.

You’ll just have a little nap before you put the coffee on.

You make it as far as the couch.

Then the fatigue swallows you, and thought unstitches from reality as you fall into the ratty floral print. Loose threads of memory follow you down, the rhythm of your walk echoing in your feet, and you find green grass sprouting from your imagination. The dream smells like summer, and droning rattles in your ears.

It’s another story. The same one you keep slipping into when you sleep. Growth, and death, and the thing that sits between lurking underground.

A hill.

A door where there is no door.

Old magic pulling bits of you inside, tattering the edges of your fingers as they steady you against an oak. Skin, fingernails, and tendon shred away like burnt paper, pulled towards the point of entry that doesn’t exist.

Under your palm, the wood groans and flexes, breathing, or pulsing, alive in ways you’ve always suspected trees are but can’t articulate. It’s all impressions here, and it’s pulling you in. The tree has more life than you do. You’re feeding the green, green grass and the hill beneath without growing into it, and that must mean you’re –

Awake.

Consciousness physically jerks you out of the dream, and a muscle seizes in your neck.

“Fuck.”

What’s happening? Did you jump scare yourself? As you try to rub the angry spot over your shoulder, the sound that roused you comes again.

A knock at the door.

Rolling your head to pop the bastard muscle back into compliance, you get your feet on the floor.

But the dream. You need to write it all down.

There must be a scrap of paper around here somewhere. A stubby pencil on the end table and an out-of-date band flyer come to hand. They’ll do. But as you scratch down words to shape the sensory madness of your wandering dream, the knock comes again, and you swear, stumbling to your feet.

“Damn it.”

You abandon your work and make your way to the door, pulling it open without checking who’s waiting on the other side. It creaks open as you glance down to make sure your feet are clear, and you look up to find the storied brown eyes from your walk.

“Hello again!”

He shoots the same, big grin, like this is not at all strange and really you should all remain calm while he stops in for a cup of tea.

[hornytome]

Hello everyone!! Finally time for an update. I’ve put it off because of nerves too long.

So, basically: I’m not a butch lesbian (anymore)! I’m actually bi and transmasc.

Shockingly, my girlfriend is no longer a femme lesbian either! She’s also bisexual. Still a girly girl though.

We both went through a parallel simultaneous journey of discovering we’re bi.

It’s as upsetting as it sounds!! Will not lie!

She calls me her boyfriend now and our sex revolves around penetrative sex. We have a realistic cock and I’m trying constantly to find a new more realistic one.

We haven’t actually slept with a man quite yet, though. We may never, to be honest.

There was… A guy… We both struggled immensely with our attraction to him, and our OCD played a large part in that. We both got over it and realized we definitely have a crush on him. That’s… simmering away right now. No idea where it’s going to go. He’s a good guy.

This has fundamentally changed our view of monogamy. We’re still prescribing to the concept of monogamy, and I suppose our rule is that if we’re both interested in the same person, then we don’t mind too much.

So, I guess I should explain why I was dragging my feet. Hornytome took off way more than I ever expected it to. I gained a massive wlw and lesbian following, and I’m so proud of who’ve I’ve brought together and modeled healthy love for.

For a long time, I identified as a lesbian, and that felt like my authentic self. I wasn’t lying to anyone, or misconstruing truths. In making this blog, I wished to explore my lesbianism. In living and growing beside this blog, I discovered a lot more.

So, to be very clear, I’m bisexual, transmasc, and a lot happier than when I started this blog. My attraction to women is gay, and my attraction to men is ALSO gay. Beat that!

That leaves me with a conundrum then. What to do with my blog? I’d love to keep posting, but a vast number of you are wlw. Perhaps I could stick to talking about Edith and I on this blog?

No matter what happens, this is no longer specifically a lesbian blog. And I’m sorry if that disappoints some of you. I really, really am. But being dishonest to myself helps no one. You haven’t lost a comrade, you gained one!

So. That’s why I’ve been gone! 6+ months of processing a major life change. I want to get back into stories. Maybe shoot me some ideas 🌝

Anyways! I’m going to be tagging this with old and new tags, just to reach as far as possible.

Edit: Also: stories will not revolve exclusively around men!! I like fucking my girlfriend a whole lot!

[sukunasweetheart]

Headcanons for sukuna as a volleyball player - idk if i wanted this to be set during highschool or not so i guess it'll be kinda generic or all over the place haha,, dedicated to @luvkun4 my love, who likes haikyuu and sukuna so its a perfect combo for her

warnings; NSFW, throat fucking, rough and angry sex, degradation, femme reader, youre kinda his pocket pu$$y but also his sweet gf, minor angst but with happy end -- this wouldve been a good fic but i dont have the energy for a fully written fic nowadays, im alr working on a billion rn

edit; THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LENGTHYY sorry, i wanted to add in the drama

right.. idk from where i should unpack this

we all know... sukuna would be competitive as fuck.

i know for a fact that he hates losing so much

which is what makes him such a good player tbh, the balls not gonna touch the ground as long as hes around

he’s a wing spiker, and definitely the ace (cough, totally not inspired by this gorgeous fanart)

hes so mean and arrogant but is willing to demonstrate teamwork in order to win and so theres obvious respect between him and his teammates

uraume is the manager, tho its clear that they favour sukuna the most pff

sukunas such a powerful player, no one can beat him one on one and hes so sexy when hes playing seriously

volleyball sukuna and his fuckin horse cock, u bet u wanna get wrecked by his shii

problem is, i cant find a creative way of how yall first met 

idk, probably through mutual friends, out in a big group at a restaurant ?? maybe you hooked up with him afterwards and you both caught feelings for each other

yeah something along those lines

anyway ofc seggs after matches are a regular thing haha

its almost an expectation that you come to see his games now

here comes the smut smut smut

vb sukuna would totally drag you into the unisex bathrooms so you can “help him relax” right before the game starts...

nothing like cumming down your throat to get him all warmed up

and youre such a whore for him, you can never say no bc YOU DONT WANT TOOO <3

even tho you make a fuss about the icky floor pfft, he grunts and lays a bunch of toilet paper for u to kneel on, what a gentleman

his soft groans as he lodges his thick cock into your warm mouth, and then pushing your head down to go even deeper

the pleasures just too great, the thrilling mixture of being in a public toilet right before a big match, fucking your tight throat raw

and your teary eyes, fluttering your lashes up at him with a mouthful of dick, he could laugh from how adorable you look

after hes done spurting stringy thick ropes of his seed down your esophagus hes just: “thanks babe... you sucked the nerves right outta me.”

and you know its bullshit bc hes smirking in that sarcastic way, and its a fact that sukuna doesnt know what it feels to be nervous!!!

lucky for you, he treats you better than anyone else - he wipes your mouth and kisses you before parting ways with you

likes to give you another smirk once he finds you amongst the audience

its crazy how much energy he still has after games

on the rare occasions when his team loses... oh boy

100% takes his frustration out using sex

just thinking abt the simmering anger...practically throws you onto his bed

pins your body down and slamming into you with his whole body weight

ruins you so bad, bruises and bites literally everywhere

but like... you’re into that shit

butterflies in stomach whenever the other team ends up winning

“ugh...fuckin’ squeezing me like that... you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“maybe you like it when i lose a game. what a whore.”

“sukuna...sukuna, too bi-big..”

“oh? and you’d think this cunt would be pretty used to it by now,” he responds cockily. it turns you on when he uses such vulgar language.

spills so many loads into you, youre like a cream filled donut by the end

spanks you too, handprints on your ass and all - omg imagine the strength as a vb player

the aftercare is nice, usually he brings you to the bath immediately and check you out if you need ointment applied to your skin or vice versa

but it wouldnt be surprising if he got lazy with it on some days, especially after an exhausting game, having sex on top of that is gotta be tough

also he spends a lot of time training and practicing, which adds to your loneliness

sometimes you overthink it and feel like youre just being used, but instead of communicating it, you just act more sensitively around him

and vb sukuna sucks at picking up the small cues, so he just thinks youre being unreasonable

the two of you get into a pretty heated argument which ends with you storming off one time

theres a bit of silent treatment going on, but then afterwards you start talking with him “normally” again

theres an obvious distance growing between you and him, and your attitude is colder than it used to be. sukuna thinks its something thatll pass sooner or later

but then you text him, saying that you wont be able to come and see his game

thats not right. hes had a few fights with you before, but you’ve never skipped out on coming to watch him like this, ever.

but being a prideful tsundere he is, he just replies with a “do whatever you want” before chucking his phone off to the side (which he checks later again, to see if you said anything more after that. you didnt.)

on the day of the match, hes constantly checking the crowd if youre there

its not like *glance* he cares *glance* about you coming *glance* or anything *glance*

his mates raise eyebrows and tell him to focus properly and hes never looked scarier lmao

they won in the end, but the taste of victory isnt the same

the group wants to celebrate and go to some restaurant to eat but he skips out and goes home alone

and when he opens his door to an empty and dark living room, he cant shake off the feeling of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach

totally doesnt google search “signs of an incoming breakup”

feels worse afterwards

eats a nice and nutritious meal he cooked for himself, but it tastes kinda like cardboard

i said previously that sukuna doesnt know what feeling nervous is, but now he does, hes terrified youre gonna pull the breakup card on him, he wont know how to deal with that

he has a feeling that if he doesnt do something about this now, he will lose his chance forever

sukuna calls you but you dont pick up

he finds his way to your front door and rings the bell, and you call out from the other side asking him what he wants from you

“why didnt you pick up any of my calls? i want to talk.”

he hates how whiny he sounds.

you crack open the door ever so slightly, so only one of your eyes are visible to him

“about what?”

“about... this. about us.”

“...you’ve been crying. let me in.”

he gently pushes open your door and you stand out of the way, letting him

...and he starts with an apology. about saying mean things to you during the argument, about acting like he doesnt care when he does (he cares so much abt you that it drives him mad), pretending not to notice how upset you were

you watch him sternly, but end up bursting into tears bc youre so relieved he came out and admitted to his faults, and that theres hope for this relationship

youre bawling as he pulls you into his arms, and you confess that not going to see him and treating him coldly was the hardest thing youve ever done in your life

sukunas so relieved you still feel deeply for him, and simultaneously upset bc youre upset

you reveal that youve been feeling neglected, feeling like he only liked you for your body, and you too, apologise for not communicating that and acting sensitively instead

hes appalled, calls you an idiot but then retracts that statement and denies ever having thought in that way

the two of you snuggle up so close together in your bed, communicating and chatting and catching up for hours while he occasionally eyes the mountain of used tear-filled tissues in your room, rather concerned

for a while, he doesnt initiate sexual activity unless you specifically want it bc he wants to prove he likes spending quality time with you just as much <3

and when sex does eventually happen, he makes it very romantic and meaningful, with proper aftercare, continuously whispering “i love you,” throughout

and he shall do anything to have you keep loving him back.

some general stuff with vb sukuna:

mad tall. i wont give an exact number but anywhere between 195 - 200cm tall :>

mad horny. hes like an animal

hes such a big eater,, i mean, i see sukuna as a big eater in any au but this one in particular bc hes an athlete haha

u probably make protein shakes for him and stuff, but hes not rly on a strict diet or anything, he just eats anything and everything

has a lotta fangirls >:( but he ignores them now, after he met you >:) but before, he probably played around a lot and hooked up with some >:( he never liked any of them to stick around, tho >:) except you >:)

goes on morning runs, at like 6am and gives u a kiss on the cheek beforehand

is so fucking touchy clingy, always needs you on his lap, hands under your skirt or shirt

the last guy who tried to hit on you got a nosebleed, getting hit with a volleyball (its so funny, he changed his aim mid-spike during a practice match)

haha he was sent to the bench for that one (everyone was chuckling behind their hands)

the headband was given to him by you, bc he once complained abt having to gel his hair every morning + gel doesnt keep his hair in shape when hes sweating excessively

thats all for today <3 thanks for reading

Masterlist

tagging; @yuujispinkhair @moonchild-artemisdaughter @skunaskitten

[collegetennisoriginstory]

Interesting question re: the f! versus m! versions of the LIs. This is just personal taste, I don't think any of them are more or less loveable based on gender!, but I do think f!Rayyan is more attractive to me than her male counterpart, while for G & Sam it's the opposite - I exclusively romance their male counterparts. Tobin is the same for me in both versions, but I still prefer f!Tobin simply because I prefer playing as a woman hehe. For context, I am a bisexual woman leaning more towards women, buuut I'm really into gnc women and I guess G and Sam both just feel like they fall outside a category I am attracted to :'o f!G feels more femme fatale as a woman, and f!Sam is very cute.

This is supremely intriguing, thank you so much for answering!! I absolutely live for interactions like this!

My answer became a goddamn ESSAY (holy shit I'm sorry) but I'd definitely love to hear more of you guy's thoughts on this, cause this is super interesting to me!

For G, I totally agree. I feel the pivotal traits that shape them (cynicism, stoicism about life and what life throws at them, adapting to circumstance, instead of stubbornly sticking to 'what they want', their parents' divorce, being caught between worlds and used to living in multiple places at once—Canadian-French from their mom and French-French from their dad, their intense commitment to their belief that things don't last, and you can't expect them to) feel more... attractive to me in a woman than a man (because lord knows we have enough flaky non-committal men in this world), but I think that's probably a subjective opinion.

For Tobin, I think it's inevitable that their softness/gentleness AND their queerness is influenced by their gender, and I love that idea, and I hope to explore more of that later on. For M!Tobin, I feel like they've always had to deal with the fact that they're a little "too" soft for what the world expects from them (a black american in the ultimately super-machismo world of sports), and they've always at least "fit in" with the rest of their team because of their athletic prowess AND how much attention they get from the ladies. Now, exploring their sexuality, having to come to terms with the fact that they are attracted to men as well (and what to do with that information)... I think it adds an extra layer of vulnerability.

As for F!Tobin, I think there's similar tensions—but in different ways. E.g. maybe they're the way they are, so gentle and considerate and kind because, in some ways, they're compensating (subconsciously or consciously) with the stereotype that black women athletes are "too powerful", "too fierce", and they've only ever wanted to be accepted, respected, loved, hence they've always been softer than they have to be, kinder than they have to be, more considerate etc. etc. But then they met MC, and perhaps they're learning to put that all away, and just... be. Without fear of being "too much"—with MC reassuring them that they're OK just the way they are, and that their strength and courage does not need to be tempered for anyone else's benefit.

And finally, for Rayyan, again, I absolutely agree—there's something about F!Rayyan and how, coming from a conservative immigrant Muslim family (e.g. there was that scene with a brief mention of how their dad never even thought they should be serious about turning pro, becoming a professional athlete especially because she's a girl), she's probably had to fight for absolutely everything she's wanted in this world, and that's why she's so steely on the outside, why she's so unapologetic about pursuing the things she wants because god knows the amount of sacrifice she's already put in. There's still that dimension in M!Rayyan, being an immigrant, threading that line between wanting to do their family proud, wanting to pursue their own dreams, ambition—so much ambition—but also fierce loyalty, and uncompromising, unyielding courage.

Sam feels the most... unchanged whether or not I imagine them as female or male, the experiences that made them the way they are (and how they interact with MC) are the same (e.g. being in love with your best friend, being extremely open about experimenting with literally any type of human romantically except the ONE person they actually love and trust with all their heart, scattered loveable goofball tennis nerd that they are).

[valentinoappreciator]

hello everybody did anyone ask for trans!staticmoth? no? well, too bad because i have spent ALL DAY on that!

Media: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Valentino (as well as very minor Valentino x Angel Dust)

Rating: E for explicit

Word count: 7.6k

Warnings: none apply (although, I guess, referenced / mentioned past (non-graphic) rape?)

Additional tags: trans!Vox (masc-presenting), trans!Valentino (femme-presenting), panic attacks, one mention of Val wearing a collar, multiple orgasms, (light) overstimulation, mentioning / referencing / talking about past rape (non graphic), Heaven and the Angels are FUCKED, side dish of ValAngel (im sorry)... i think that's about it. no slurs are mentioned directly, but they're referenced, if you read between the lines.

Where else to read: AO3. Username: TheWeirdDane. Title: From Rags To Riches

Author's notes: trans!voxval wont leave me alone. I'm so deeply sorry. I tried to use my own experiences in my gender journey for this, but I still apologize if anything was insensitive or done poorly. I am also still learning 😅

Also: minors, do not interact, please!

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

Valentino, as he so often did, had gone clubbing. The music was loud, and the bass louder still; it was so aggressive that it made his entire being vibrate across the sticky dance floor. The lights blinding and shiny, he occasionally went into an almost trance-like state, just staring into the lights, as if that wouldn’t cause irreparable damage to his already dogshit eyesight. But, well, that was nothing a new glasses prescription couldn’t fix. 

He swayed his hips, bouncing up and down as the music dictated, swinging his arms with the carefully contained wildness of someone who’s entirely used to having four arms, and knows exactly what to do with them at all times. 

Valentino knew he looked like a million bucks, in his figure-hugging, sparkling, diamond-studded bodystocking, his thigh-high, shiny latex boots, and the padded collar cinched tight around his throat. 

He also knew that if someone were to come up to him and ask for a dance, he would deck them. This was his night out. His reprieve. His chance to relax and let loose, without having someone breathing down his neck. 

Accidentally bounding into someone, Valentino’s mouth was halfway through performing an apology - because everything about Valentino was a performance; or, so one would be inclined to think - when he saw who he had bumped into, and his jaw went slack. 

It wasn’t someone he knew, but he knew instantly that it was someone he would die to get to know. 

“Look where you’re dancing, lanky bitch!” the other demon grumbled, only hanging on to their balance because Valentino grabbed the sleeves of their button-up shirt. He had a TV screen for a head, and was dressed in a suit so pressed and straight that Valentino could not take it seriously. 

“I’m deeply sorry, sir,” Valentino purred, and relaxed his vocal cords to let their natural pitch shine through. “It wasn’t my intention. But, you know how it can be. Having four arms and everything.”

The other demon looked him up and down. A smug smile appeared on his screen. Crossing his arms across his chest, his suit creased slightly. 

“I would not know, but I’m sure you could tell me all about it.”

“I’d be delighted to,” Valentino said smoothly, gesturing to the nearby booths. The demon raised a digital eyebrow, but nonetheless followed Valentino when he sauntered towards the red leather. He sat down, produced a cigarette holder from somewhere on his person, and put a cigarette in it. 

Valentino dug between his breasts with one hand, pulling out a shiny, red lighter that he used to light the cigarette. 

“Do you smoke?” he asked the other demon, holding out a pack of fine cigarettes. He waved a hand in a polite pass. “Do you at least drink?” 

“Never pass up an opportunity.”

Valentino grinned, dug between his breasts once more, and pulled out a shiny golden credit card. Stretching it out towards the other demon, he quickly pulled it out of reach. 

“Introductions first, baby, what do you take me for? A fucking reprobate? Name’s Valentino. And yours is...?” 

“Vox,” the other demon said politely, before snatching the credit card out of Valentino’s hand with a speed that Valentino had not expected. He stared at Vox, unable to deny the faint blush on his cheeks. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Val,” Vox then purred, got up, and sauntered towards the bar in such an alluring gait that Valentino was compelled to watch him. His hips were divine, and oh, that ass...!

Valentino smoked his cigarettes and watched the crowd until Vox returned with not one but two martini glasses full of a clear liquid. He raised an eyebrow when one was placed in front of him, then looked at Vox quizzically. 

“Excuse me? What the fuck is this?”

“Well, I thought, since you’re buying, it’s only fair you bought yourself something,” Vox grinned. He put the credit card on the table between them and slid it back to Valentino, who snatched it up with a hand. “You do like martinis, right? Fancy girl such as yourself?” 

Something in Valentino bristled. He was no girl...! But, he would have to admit to himself, that with the way he was dressed tonight, it was only natural that that is what others would assume. The bodystocking that really showed off his figure and pushed up his breasts, the makeup to put any makeup artist to shame, the high-heeled boots. 

He scoffed. 

“Don’t assume things about me based on my appearances,” he huffed, taking a sip of his martini. He hated that he actually liked it. Vox shrugged, mirroring the motion. 

“Right, sorry,” he said over the thin rim of his glass, but with all the attitude of someone who didn’t really mean it, and someone who didn’t care that others knew it wasn’t genuine. 

There was a short pause in the incredibly stimulating conversation where they both just watched sinners go amok on the dance floor. Hopping, dancing, writhing figures blurred into a giant blob of colors for Valentino the longer he stared. 

Eventually, feeling almost dizzy, he looked back to Vox, finding him staring intently at him. 

“What?” he asked gruffly and took another sip of his drink. 

“You’re most curious,” Vox replied. Valentino snickered, cocking an eyebrow himself while lifting his cigarette holder to his lips. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“You strut like a woman. You’re dressed like a woman. You have a figure like a goddamn fucking model. Yet you swear like a hardened sailor, of whom we both know the sex.”

That got Valentino to tense. Well, it was no secret that he yearned for a more... masculine form. Okay, it was a little bit of a secret. Only known to those closest to him. An amount of people he could count on one hand. He couldn’t have just anybody know he was a---- well, that he wasn’t comfortable with his current... configuration. 

“If you have something to say, just say it.”

Vox shrugged again, sipping his drink. 

“Are you happy in your current body, Val?” 

Valentino’s mouth tightened into a thin line. He took a deep drag of his cigarette holder and blew the smoke into Vox’s screen. 

“What’s it to ya, Voxxy? Think you can fuck me into liking my body better, is that it?”

“Oh, I think a lot of things, Val, none of which would be fit for a woman’s delicate head.”

Valentino nearly bit the end of his cigarette holder in two, his sharp teeth gritting against each other. 

“Well, if you’re so terribly clever, Voxxy, pray tell, please, what you could offer me that would make me like my... this body better.”

Vox’s mouth split into a wide grin, and he leaned forward conspiratorially. 

“Well, Val, I think it’s fair to say you haven’t had a real man treat you like you need to be treated.”

“And what kind of treatment would that be, oh mighty one? You think you are up to the task? Ha. Hell, you don’t look like much. I doubt you’re packing anything noteworthy.” 

At that, Vox finally seemed to feel something other than that infuriatingly smug self-confidence. He scoffed, and rolled his eyes almost aggressively. 

“But,” Valentino continued and put a hand delicately on Vox’s shoulder, another holding his cigarette holder by his lips, “if you’re so sure you can, forgive the expression, fuck me right, then why don’t we go home to my place?” 

Vox’s screen flickered slightly. He looked to the side. Squirmed a bit. Valentino grinned widely. 

Oh, now who is the uncomfortable one, bitch? he thought to himself, triumphantly. 

“Now, Val, I didn’t---”

“Oh, what, are you suddenly a coward, Voxxy? Afraid I might discard you like all the others? That you’re not up to snuff? That your pathetic, little cock won’t satisfy me?”

Vox’s expression hardened. He grabbed Valentino’s hand and yanked him down so they were face to face. 

“Fine,” he snarled, got up, and unceremoniously pulled Valentino up from the booth as well. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

Valentino all but stumbled after him. He might’ve talked the talk, but he wasn’t sure he could walk the walk, when it came down to it. 

Once back in his apartment, Valentino looked expectantly at Vox. He crossed all four arms over his chest, tapping his shiny boot against the equally pristine floor. He hated the way his heart beat in his chest, and the way he actually looked forward to whatever Vox was going to show, and do to, him. He was no common whore, and yet... and yet...! 

Vox just stood there, like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck barrelling towards him. 

“Well, Voxxy, I am eagerly waiting for your massive cock and your incredible stamina,” he snickered and crowded Vox against the wall, two hands on either side of his screen. He noticed how Vox’s gaze flickered down to his breasts, and laughed mockingly. 

“Unless that was all talk?” he continued in a more sultry tone, putting one hand on Vox’s screen while another draped itself across his shoulders, a third positioning his cigarette holder close to his lips, and a fourth pushing against Vox’s chest. 

That fourth one gradually crept south, down over Vox’s crisp suit and his flat stomach. 

“V-Val, don’t,” he stuttered, and weakly tried to push Valentino away. 

Valentino kept going. 

“Oh, so it was all talk, was it, huh, baby?” he purred, stroking his hand down over Vox’s hip before going to cup his crotch. 

Just as he did so, Vox’s screen glitched, and he hissed loudly. 

Valentino stared down at him. Blinked once. Then twice. Then a third time, just for good measure. 

“You’re not even hard?” he asked, incredulously. “I should’ve thought you were eager to get with me. You certainly talked like you were!”

“Val,” Vox groaned, looking away when Valentino leaned into his screen. 

“What, I’m not up to snuff? I’m not good enough? Fucking Hell, Vox, I thought---”

But then, in his search to find Vox’s cock, he fondled the demon’s crotch harder, and found his suit pants to be... damp.  

“What, you pissed yourself, too?” he snarled, his temper quickly showing itself. “Are you that much of such a little baby that you can’t handle someone like me?”

Suddenly, Val was pushed backwards, an arch of electricity sparking between Vox’s antennas. His left eye was suddenly pulsing and spinning eerily. 

“Fuck off, Val! Don’t you get it?” he snapped. 

“Clearly not!” Valentino snapped back, pressing his hand harder into Vox’s crotch. “So, why don’t you tell this woman’s delicate head what the fuck I’m not getting?” 

Vox growled, and the claws on his hands suddenly crackled with electricity. 

“Because clearly, I’m not getting cock tonight!” Valentino continued in a harsh snarl, and used a hand to keep Vox pinned against the wall. “Either because you have the smallest fucking cock imaginable to sinners, or because you simply don’thave a----”

Valentino cut himself short when realization hit him. It hit harder than any alcohol ever had, dead or alive. He stared down at Vox, who, for all intents and purposes, looked like he would rather die all over again than be the one to say what Valentino was thinking. 

“You don’t have a cock, do you?” Valentino then asked, bewildered. 

It all pieced itself together in his head. 

Vox was just like him. 

He frowned. Lightly at first, but the more seconds ticked by, the deeper his brows furrowed. 

“You’re... you’re like me.” 

Vox threw Valentino’s hands away from himself. 

“I am nothing like you!” he spat, as if the words, as if the very idea, was poison to him. 

“Come on, Vox,” Valentino said, his voice so gentle it surprised even him. It also seemed to surprise Vox, because immediately, all the anger and frustration drained from his screen. He looked up at Valentino with big eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, shoulders sagging and eyes cast downward. 

Valentino regarded him quietly for a moment. Eyes narrow. Mouth a tight line. 

Then... 

“Cigarette?”

Vox snorted. 

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

Valentino pulled out his cigarette pack and plucked one for Vox. He lit it, too, watching with rapt attention as Vox inhaled deeply, immediately choking on the smoke. He coughed and banged a fist on his chest repeatedly. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t smoke, huh?”

“Why would I?” Vox croaked when he had gotten his breathing under control. Valentino scoffed, amusement tinging the sound. 

“Well, I guess I can respect you for not lying about that.”

Vox let out a snort, stubbornly taking another drag of the cigarette. His eyes closed, and then he slowly slid down the wall. Valentino stared down at him, somewhere between bewildered and enraged. He had been looking forward to Vox fucking him into the mattress. 

With a deep sigh, Valentino slumped back against and slid down the wall, following Vox’s example. 

They smoked quietly for a few minutes. The silence was close to deafening. 

“We can still have fun, y’know.”

Vox snorted and rolled his eyes. 

“You never give up, do you?” 

Valentino snickered, shrugged with one shoulder. 

“What can I say? I’m a hedonist by nature. For better or for worse.”

Now it was Vox’s turn to regard Valentino. He did so with an expression that Valentino couldn’t quite figure out. Was it admiration? Or was it an attempt at hiding how crazy he found Valentino? 

“Pray tell. Fun how?” Vox then asked, prompting Valentino to smirk. 

“You have a cunt. I have one. I’m sure we could... figure something out.”

Vox rolled his eyes, accompanied by an amused sound. 

“What’s something you’ve always wanted to try, Voxxy? I think I have an idea. If, of course, you’re up for it.”

“A hedonist and a mind reader?” Vox chuckled, then sighed deeply with pleasure when he got the smoking down pat, and he felt the nicotine enter his system. His eyes closed. He leaned his screen back against the wall. Valentino put a hand on his thigh, another busy with his cigarette holder. 

He exhaled a plume of red smoke that hung around their heads. 

“It’s something I have always been interested in,” he then admitted, quietly, like it was a deeply depraved fantasy that would earn him a one-way ticket to an even deeper part of Hell. “And, like I said, you’re like me. We’re two sides of the same coin, Vox.”

“What is it? This idea.”

Valentino sent him a long, sideways glance. 

“Take off your clothes. I’ll show ya.”

Vox’s eyebrows lifted. 

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Maybe. But I can almost guarantee that it’ll feel good. If you’ll just allow me to show you.”

“Only almost? Sounds like a weak promise to me, Valentino.” 

Valentino rolled his eyes, but snickered nonetheless. 

“Well, if you don’t want to feel good...” he drawled, starting to withdraw his hand. Vox hesitated half a second to grab it. 

“Show me, then, oh master of sex.” 

Valentino’s lips twitched into a full grin. 

“That’s what I like to hear.” 

Together, they got Vox out of his clothes in record time, and Valentino splayed him out on the ground beneath him. He saw that the reason he hadn’t noticed Vox’s breasts at first was because he had tied them in. Binding, as it were called. He knew of the term, of the practice, of course he did, but he had never had an issue with his own breasts. Well, not in the same way and to the degree that Vox did, it would seem. 

He sent him a curious glance. Vox shook his head, averting his eyes. 

“Don’t... pay attention to them. Please.”

Valentino nodded, and paid attention to other parts of Vox’s body that he hoped would feel better to him. 

“Tell me if... if I’m out of line.”

Vox didn’t respond. He was tense, Valentino could feel that much. 

“Relax,” he said softly, and stroked two hands up and down his sides. He had a slim body that, at another time, Valentino would have loved to throw around and mark. As it were, however, he was gentle. He was tender. He was slow. He was everything he had been denied. 

As the seconds ticked by, reaching to become minutes, Vox gradually relaxed the more Valentino touched him. Valentino kept his word; he avoided the entire chest region, making sure to massage his arms and his thighs instead. Slowly, as the minutes morphed into half an hour, then to an hour, Vox became completely pliant under Valentino’s practiced hands. 

After that, Valentino decided to free style it. He had made sure not to touch Vox’s crotch, but he could smell that Vox was feeling a... certain way right now. He glanced up at his screen; his eyes were closed, his mouth slightly ajar, revealing a bright, neon-blue tongue. 

“How you feeling, baby?” 

“Good,” he rasped, trembling vaguely. 

“Do you want to feel even better?”

“Please.”

“I will need to touch you for that.”

“Please,” came the almost urgent plea. 

Valentino smiled - a seldom, gentle one - and wasted no time in stroking his claws through Vox’s folds, his focus entirely on his face. Vox furrowed his brows in a deep frown, and his mouth inhaled sharply, while his body jerked hard to the side. Valentino immediately pinned him to the ground with his remaining three hands. 

The cigarette holder had been discarded a while ago, now laying forgotten on the floor behind him. A frail wisp of smoke rose from the smoldering tip. 

“Just relax,” he purred, carefully stroking Vox’s folds and paying especially good attention to his clit. “Just relax, let me show you what I can do.” 

“Yes,” Vox whispered, a hoarse, grating sound. He sagged back against the floor again, but one of his hands came up to grab one of Valentino’s. Valentino permitted it. 

Valentino circled his clit. He stroked it gently. He slid his fingers between Vox’s folds, teasing his entrance. Just teasing. It was enough that it had Vox trembling hard. 

“Val,” he croaked suddenly, and Valentino, who had been busy admiring his beautiful anatomy, snapped his attention back to his face. 

“Yes, baby?”

“I feel... weird.” His hand clenched Valentino’s tighter. 

“Weird how, baby? Talk to me.”

“I’m... warm. Inside. It’s like... like electricity through my chords, but... liquid.”

“Yeah?” Valentino urged him on, feeling quite warm himself. It couldn’t be that Vox was a virgin, now could it...? That would just be too good. 

Vox nodded. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Valentino frowned slightly, cocking his head a bit to the side. 

“Does it feel good, though?”

At that, Vox nodded immediately, and quite eagerly. 

“It feels... really good, Val.”

“Okay, good. Thank you for telling me, baby,” he crooned, and continued sliding his fingers up and down Vox’s folds, before focusing on his clit. 

The second his claws made contact with the warm, slightly throbbing bud, Vox inhaled sharply, and jerked so hard he almost bucked Valentino off. 

“Feels that good, huh?” he asked, trying to keep his teasing to a minimum. “Don’t worry, baby, I ain’t even halfway done showing you my magic tricks.” 

Vox bit back a whimper that nonetheless spilled between his sharp teeth when Valentino didn’t relent. He kept stroking and rubbing his clit. Slowly, carefully, not wanting to end the show prematurely. He let his claws tap gently against the incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves, and relished the way Vox’s entire body shuddered. He might have moaned himself, but he would be double-damned and double-dead before he would admit that.

“Now, I’m going to try something,” he warned Vox, who immediately lifted his head to look at Valentino. His eyes were wide open, almost panicked. 

“I’ll keep it to this area, don’t worry, sweetheart, yeah?” he quickly promised. Fuck, why did it matter so much what this dude thought?! Was he growing soft or something?! Pathetic! 

Vox nodded slowly. 

“Lay back down for me, then. There we go. Good boy.” 

Slowly, so slowly that Valentino thought he was going to explode, he laid down between Vox’s legs. He kissed the inside of Vox’s thighs with unending tenderness. The closer he got to Vox’s core, the sharper and quicker Vox’s breathing became. 

“Breathe, baby. Can’t have ya passing out on me,” he joked. Vox whimpered loudly, and put both hands on his screen. Valentino might not be the greatest at reading - and listening to - people, but even he could recognize the way Vox’s breathing spiraled out of control. 

He started hyperventilating, and his legs immediately closed. Alarmed, Valentino lifted his head to look up at him. 

Vox was trembling. Hard. Not to mention, he sounded like he couldn’t breathe, but would die trying. 

“Voxxy?” Valentino said with a frown, moving up to stare directly into the comforting, blue light. “Voxxy, hey hey hey, what’s up, baby?” 

Vox didn’t answer verbally, but he did utter a miserable whimper. 

Familiar enough with panic attacks that he knew what they were, Valentino had never experienced one himself. Not related to sex, anyway. Bewildered, and clueless as to what he was supposed to do, Valentino clutched both Vox’s hands in all four of his own. 

“Hey, Vox, listen to me, babe, okay?” he said. 

Vox shuddered so hard it was near a convulsion. 

Valentino grit his teeth, feeling panic well up within himself, but wanting to quell it before that, too, got out of control. 

“Vox, look, I can’t help ya if you don’t tell me what to do, okay? I’m here, but you gotta walk me through it.”

Vox lifted his trembling hands. Valentino let go, and Vox wrapped his arms around Valentino’s neck. Before he knew it, Valentino found himself wrapped in a loose embrace. Vox’s teeth chattered loudly against his cheek. 

“Okay,” Valentino said softly, bringing his own arms around Vox’s quivering body. “Okay. It’s okay. I got you.” 

“H-H-Hold m-me. Tight. P-Please.”

“Okay, baby, okay,” he whispered, tightening his grip on Vox’s body until he feared he was actively strangling him. However, the tight, warm pressure seemed to be just what Vox needed. It took a while, but eventually, he stopped trembling. He stopped hyperventilating. Instead, he started sniffling. 

Valentino forced himself not to roll his eyes, even though Vox would not be able to see it if he had. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, without letting go. “I’m right here.”

“I’m... s-s-sorry,” Vox stuttered weakly. 

“Naahh, baby, don’t give me that shit. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

He practically heard Vox swallow before he detangled himself from the tight grasp of Valentino’s many arms. Valentino allowed him to, but only to the point he could still plant a firm hand on his knee. 

Vox sat back on his ass on the floor. His eyes unfocused before they focused on Valentino’s hand. He swallowed again, took a deep breath. 

“Uh,” he started, rubbing his eyes. Valentino briefly wondered how he cried if he was all digital. Then that concern was shoved to the background. Vox. Focus on Vox. 

“I... I guess it’s no use trying to play off as nothing serious, huh?” he joked weakly, glancing up at Valentino. 

“Nu-uh, sugar. Tell me what happened, and who to kill.” 

The last part came out without him having even thought about it, surprising both himself and Vox. The blue light of Vox’s screen seemed to become brighter for a second. Valentino cleared his throat, before he retrieved his discarded cigarette holder and sat across from Vox. 

“Go on.”

“I... don’t know who they were,” Vox started, slowly, as if he needed time to get his thoughts in order. “But it was... one night. I was asleep, as one is at that time of the day, when I heard noise and commotion in the living room. Someone whispering to someone. Man voices. They weren’t keeping quiet.”

Valentino’s red eyes narrowed behind their iconic shades. He knew of rape when he heard it, and already, before he had heard any details, his blood was starting to boil. 

“They talked about what kind of goods they could get from ‘a place like this.’ One of them said it wasn’t about the goods, it was about the principle. That sinners needed to start being more afraid.”

“Afraid?” Valentino interrupted. 

Vox shrugged with one shoulder. 

“I don’t know. They went on to talk about how they couldn’t... wait until Extermination Day. To show sinners that they should be afraid of Heaven, actually.” 

Valentino’s eyes narrowed further, until they were nothing but tight slits. He didn’t know of any regular sinner who didn’t fear Heaven and the Angels. 

“They came into my bedroom.” Vox’s voice cracked. Valentino pretended not to hear, and he certainly didn’t comment on it. “I... pretended to be asleep. That didn’t... stop them. Though,” he said and laughed; a hollow sound devoid of joy, “I guess my shaking like a leaf was a clear indicator I wasn’t actually asleep.” 

Valentino grit his teeth so hard he nearly bit his cigarette holder into two pieces. Again. 

“Not like they cared, anyway. They...”

He swallowed heavily, and Valentino felt a twinge where his heart should be. He squeezed Vox’s knee. 

“It’s okay, baby. I get the picture,” he said softly. 

“They touched me,” Vox said quietly, continuing his detailing. “Laughed at me. Poked and prodded. Called me... names. They said that someone ‘like me’,” here, Vox made sharp and malicious air quotes, “could never cross the pearly gates, so why bother trying? Why should they bother letting me live? Why not... put me out of my misery already?”

Valentino’s hand tightened on Vox’s knee. Vox didn’t seem to notice. 

“I don’t know if they were Angels, or just someone wanting to frame them, or whatever. What I do know is that they didn’t hold back.”

“How many?” asked Valentino through gritted teeth, preparing to do the mental gymnastics on how to kill one Angel, and how to do it however many times necessary. 

“I don’t know,” Vox answered in a dull voice. “Four? Five? There were... many different voices. They all... felt different, too.”

Valentino’s stomach lurched. Warmth raised into his chest. He realized he was seething. And for what? Some skinny twink he didn’t even know? 

You know why, the abyss of his brain whispered. It takes a miserable story to know a miserable story. 

He let out a low snarl and removed the cigarette holder to blow the smoke out and upwards. 

“I’m going to fucking kill them,” he hissed. “Angels or not.”

Vox chuckled hollowly, before moving so that he could slump against Valentino. 

“Like you could. No one knows how to.”

“I’ll find a way,” Valentino promised and brought two arms around Vox. “They have terrorized us long enough. It’s time that someone should take a stance.”

“But, Val,” Vox said, “what can we do? We’re simple sinners. We’re not Overlords.”

“Maybe not yet,” Valentino replied almost immediately. Vox noticeably shivered. His blue light intensified as he looked at Valentino. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t become Overlords.”

“‘We’?”

Valentino grinned down at him.

“We, baby. I’m taking you with me on the way there. We’re going to be the baddest motherfuckers down here. Everyone will wish they were us. Everyone will scrabble for a touch of us, of what we can do.”

Vox’s eyes shone. Then he did something Valentino had not seen coming; he threw himself at Valentino, straddling his thighs, and kissed him. It was hard, and sloppy, and not at all as graceful as Valentino was used to, but he happily accepted it all the same. 

He brought all four arms around Vox, pulling him flush against his tall, lanky body. Vox’s tongue was thick, long, and prehensile, and it quickly invaded Valentino’s mouth. Valentino snickered breathlessly and allowed it, if only for the few seconds it took for him to push Vox on his back again. 

“Someone is eager again,” he purred. Vox rolled his eyes with a dark snicker. 

“You talk about killing my rapists, and every single one of those sons of bitch-ass 'divine' Angels. Of course I’m eager.”

Valentino laughed loudly, and kissed him again, this time allowing himself to be not so gentle with Vox. He stroked his folds and clit harder and faster than he had before, even going as far as dipping his claws slightly inside Vox. Still being careful with that, though; Vox had just opened up about trauma, and Valentino did have claws. He didn’t want to shred Vox’s insides. 

Well, okay, he did, but not yet. There would come a time for that. 

“Saying horny shit is not all this mouth does,” he grinned, and let his tongue slowly wind out of his mouth. More and more. Vox watched it with wide eyes as it just kept going. 

“Are you going to---” he began, but didn’t get a chance to finish his question before Valentino laid flat on his chest and stomach between Vox’s legs again. Realization hit Vox like a freight train, and he shuddered when his eyes met Valentino’s. 

“Oh, you actually are,” he croaked. 

Valentino snickered mischievously, and let his tongue lap against Vox’s soaked folds over and over again. Vox let out a very undignified noise, and hurriedly slapped a hand over his mouth. 

“None of that shit, baby,” Valentino purred, reaching up to pull Vox’s hand away. “Lemme hear ya.”

Vox shuddered, and his back arched slightly when Valentino put his tongue on him again. With all the eagerness of a dog greeting its owner for the first time in a long while, Valentino licked and sucked on Vox’s already drenched core. He snaked his tongue around the desperately throbbing clit, and closed his mouth over it while flicking the tip of his tongue against it at the same time. 

“Fuck!” Vox shouted. His hands came down on top of Valentino’s head, holding him firmly in place while his hips bucked hard upwards. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, Val, how do you--- how do you even know how to do that with your tongue?”

Valentino took it as a rhetorical question and thus didn’t stop the merciless fondling of Vox’s clit. Nonetheless, he was flattered. If there was one thing he prides himself in, it was his ability to bring people to their knees. Well, metaphorically speaking. 

Vox’s legs trembled fiercely on either side of his face. When they tried to close around him, Valentino used two hands to force them open, and Vox was done for. 

“Val, I’m---” he whimpered. 

Valentino knew, so of course he didn’t stop. He licked and sucked Vox’s clit as if that was his ticket to Overlord status, and even brought down a hand to tease his entrance just as Vox hit his climax. 

It was loud, and it was messy, but Valentino wasn’t about to start caring about that now. His tongue flicked and rubbed his pulsing clit until Vox jerked away from him and pushed against his forehead. 

“No--- no more,” he said breathlessly, followed by a weak laugh. Valentino looked at him. He didn’t stop. Vox gasped sharply when Valentino’s tongue continued teasing him. 

“N-No, Val, I’m---- ahnn, I’m serious!”

“Are ya though?” Valentino purred and suckled lightly on his clit. Vox doubled over, grasping the back of Valentino’s head tightly. 

“Please, I can’t--- take anymore!” Vox gasped. 

“Tell me ‘red’. Then I’ll stop.”

Vox panted and whimpered, but he didn’t say ‘red’, so... Valentino simply kept going.

Vox managed to come three more times in rapid succession before he safe-worded. And, much to his credit, Valentino pulled back immediately after. He cuddled up next to a vaguely spasming Vox. He looked around his apartment. The lights were still on. 

“Not good enough to cause a total black out, I see,” he joked with a wide grin. His face was wet and sticky, and he was desperate for a shower, but he wasn’t going to just abandon Vox. 

Vox weakly hit him in the chest, an even weaker laugh bubbling out of his open mouth. 

“Shut... shut up.”

“Gotta up my game,” Valentino continued, pulling Vox close in a tight embrace. He immediately leaned into it. 

“If you up your game any further, I will cause a city-wide black out. Is that what you want?”

“Yeah. Would be fun to see everybody panic.”

“You’re an ass,” Vox laughed. Valentino snickered. 

“Yeah, well, you’re the one stuck with me now, baby.”

“Woe be upon me.”

They cuddled for a few minutes, something that was exceptionally foreign to Valentino. His clients were usually all about the pump and dump. They never cared for aftercare, or reassurance on Valentino’s behalf. No, rather, Valentino was used to being the whore that everybody wanted for the night, but nobody wanted for the long term. 

Maybe... maybe here was someone different...?

He dared let a flicker of hope burn inside him. 

Then he pushed it away. Yeah, right. He was a whore, not a partner. 

“Baby, do you mind if I take a shower?” he asked Vox while stroking his upper back. Vox quickly detangled himself from Valentino, and somehow, despite that having been what Valentino wanted, that answer filled him with dread. 

“No, no, of course not, go right ahead,” he mumbled sheepishly. Valentino sent him a flirtatious smirk before getting up from the floor. 

Sauntering towards his massive bathroom, he let the act down once he was alone inside. Once alone inside, he knuckled the sink so tight he almost broke it clean off the counter. Staring into the mirror, he grit his teeth harshly. 

“You can’t go around catching feelings for every stupid fucking twink with a tragic backstory you see,” he hissed to his reflection. It was silent, simply scowled back at him. 

He pushed away from the counter forcefully and got out of his clothes before stepping into the shower cabin. Turning on the hot water, he sighed deeply when it cascaded down over his body. Fuck, that was the good stuff... 

Valentino was halfway through his shower, and the bathroom completely enveloped in dense steam, when he heard the clack-clack-clack-clack of expensive, Italian shoes stepping over the white marble. 

“Val?” came Vox’s nervous voice from the door. 

“What is it, baby?” Val answered, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Someone is calling you. The display says... Angel Dust?” 

Valentino groaned at length and turned off the water. 

“I didn’t mean to look, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, baby, don’t worry about it. Gimme my phone.”

Vox did. 

“Angel, honey,” Valentino said sweetly, pouring honey over his voice, “I’m busy right now. Can this wait until tomorrow?” 

“Please, Val, I just--- I just need you. Just for two minutes. That’s all. Promise.”  

Valentino glanced at Vox through the mist. 

“Angel, baby, I said, I’m busy. I’m gonna call you back tomor---”

“I miss you. I feel like I barely see you anymore these days, Val. What’s going on?” 

Valentino rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Angel,” he said, and a stern edge replaced the sweet honey in his voice, “I will. Call you back. Tomorrow. Got it?”

There was a long pause. He heard a sniffle through the phone. 

“S-Sure. Sure thing, Val. Talk tomorrow.”  

“Good boy.” 

Valentino hung up and then groaned at length again. 

“Who are they?” Vox asked, sitting on the toilet cover. Valentino could hear the struggle in his voice; he was trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Aww, jealous, baby?” Valentino snickered and stepped out of the shower cabin, grabbing a fresh towel. 

“N-No,” Vox answered way too fast. Valentino started drying himself off, his back to the other demon, but was interrupted by two sets of sharp claws on his bony hips. Then there was the warm weight of Vox’s screen on his upper back, just as the claws snuck around his narrow waist and locked together. 

“Don’t lie,” Valentino purred. “It ain’t a good look on ya, Voxxy.” 

“So, don’t lie to me, either,” Vox mumbled. “Who is that... Angel Dust?”

Valentino sighed. 

“I guess you could call him my boyfriend. At least, that’s what he wants us to be.”

“And you?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you want you guys to be?”

Valentino shrugged and tried to pry himself out of Vox’s embrace. But Vox was surprisingly strong and determined. 

“Aaww, what’s it to ya, baby, hmm? You want to be my new boyfriend, huh, is that it?”

Vox went still, and Valentino knew he had hit the nail on the head. 

“Baby,” he purred, stroking Vox’s hands and arms slowly. “I can’t just throw him to the curb, now can I? Just because I found you? I need to have some principles.” That last part was mostly a lie, though. 

Vox was quiet. Probably pouting, too. Valentino rolled his eyes, not caring if the steam had dissipated enough that Vox could see it in the mirrors lining the wall. 

“Threesome?” he then suggested. Vox scoffed. “He’s amazing in bed, I promise.” Vox scoffed louder, clung tighter to Valentino. 

“Voxxy, baby, please---”

“I want to eat you out, too!” Vox suddenly blurted out. 

This gave Valentino pause. Instantly, excitement coursed through his veins. He had never allowed anyone to eat him out. Not that anyone had had much interest in that, anyway. For most clients, they just wanted to dip their cock in him. 

“Ask me nicely,” he then purred. 

“What? It’s supposed to be the other way aro---”

“Ask me. Nicely. And then maybe I’ll give you the honor.”

Vox groaned. 

“Fuck’s sake, Val, just let me do this for you? Please? You treated me so well, it’s only fair I return the favor. Please.”

Valentino turned around in the embrace, looking down at Vox with a wide grin. 

“I like hearing you beg, actually. It’s a good sound on ya. Alright, fine. You can eat me out.”

“You could sound more enthusiastic about it.” 

Valentino huffed. 

“Do you wanna do it or not, baby?”

“Yes!” 

“Then get to it.” 

Valentino sat back on the small step in the shower cabin. He spread his legs wide and looked up at Vox, not without a sizable knot in his chest, and trying to ignore the way his breathing was already getting faster. 

“You can take a towel to kneel on if you wanna.”

“So generous,” Vox snickered and grabbed Valentino’s damp towel. He folded it a few times before kneeling in front of Valentino. Then he seemed to hesitate. He peered up at him. 

“I have... never done this.”

“Congratulations, that makes two of us.” 

Vox frowned. Valentino cursed on the inside. 

“You have eaten out before. Val, you can’t lie to me about that.”

“I meant, dumbass, that I have never allowed anyone to do that to me,” Valentino growled. “Now, get to it or get lost.”

Vox took that quite literally, and dove between Valentino’s spread legs to get to work. His tongue was immediately on his folds; lapping, licking, and sucking. 

Valentino had not expected it to feel that good.  

Sure, his female clients always went insane for cunnilingus, and he had always kind of just assumed that they exaggerated their pleasure so he felt better about himself. Because surely, nothing could be that good, right?

Not. 

This was that good. Sure, Vox’s tongue was sloppy and uncertain, but the pleasure coursing through Valentino was very much that good. It hit him hard and heavy and made him moan loudly. His wings even fluttered. Just briefly, but still. 

“What the fuck, Vox,” he growled and pressed up into Vox’s mouth. Vox grunted and planted his hands on the inside of Valentino’s slim thighs, keeping them spread. His claws dug into the purple flesh, and while Vox was worried about piercing the skin, Valentino seemed to not worry about that. 

Valentino normally prided himself in his stamina. He could last for hours without getting tired or needing a break. But this? Right here, right now, Vox working him like that? He suddenly couldn’t think straight. 

“Fuck,” he cursed and banged his head back against the shower stall, clutching Vox’s screen tightly. His remaining three hands tried to busy themselves with whatever else was in here. Which wasn’t a whole lot. One hand slammed against the glass of the stall as Valentino moaned loudly. Vox didn’t jump, much to his credit. 

He was warm and giddy throughout his entire body, and he felt as though all his arousal was flowing south, forming a tight knot in his lower stomach. It was too good, actually.  

“Fuck, Vox , Vox Vox Vox,” he panted and thrust his cunt against Vox’s screen. His tongue went from licking his folds to instead flick against his clit, and Valentino had to bite one fist to keep quiet. 

“It feels good, huh?” Vox sounded way too smug.

“If you’ve got the energy to make comments, you’re not focusing enough,” Valentino growled, but he was breathless already. He needed... just a little bit more...

“Fuck, Vox, finger me!”

Vox faltered. 

“Val, my claws, they will---”

Valentino growled and grabbed one of Vox’s hands, roughly and rather clumsily placing it by his entrance, bumping against Vox’s face. 

“This is about me, not you, Vox. I said, finger me.” 

He felt Vox shudder between his legs, and, credit where credit is due, Vox began fingering Valentino while also continuing to suck on his clit. Valentino let go of his hand and used his own to hold his legs open.

Vox’s claws did hurt as they scraped against his insides, but for Valentino, that was part of the fun. The pain was delicious, and complemented the pleasure quite nicely. All of it burnt through his veins, threatening to sear his nerve endings, fry him, make him go up in smoke. 

He pointed his toes and gasped loudly when Vox tilted his screen just so, hitting so good a spot that Valentino began babbling inanely.

“Fuck, Vox, that’s it, that’s the fucking spot!” 

Vox groaned and pressed himself harder against Valentino’s cunt. If he was just acting as if he wanted to please Valentino, he was a fucking fantastic actor.  

“Do not fucking stop, you hear me? If you stop, I am shutting you down for go--- ohh fuck!”  

Vox twisted his wrist and sped up his fingers as they thrust relentlessly into Valentino, his tongue running merciless circles around his clit. 

It was, really, inevitable. The pleasure was bound to break, to crescendo. But Valentino was not ready for the sheer intensity of it. Fireworks went off inside his brain and behind his closed eyes. In a way, it was a bit like how he remembered celebrating the Fourth of July back in his living life. Fireworks and an endless supply of drugs and booze. 

Only, this high was better than anything chemical he had tried. 

“Vox,” he choked out, trying to pry the demon off of him. For all his shameless talk and wanton desires, the idea of coming in Vox’s mouth was filthy.  

“Vox, fucking hell, I’m going to come!”

Vox seemed to take this to mean that he should super glue himself to Valentino’s cunt, because he licked him faster and harder, while at the same time curling his claws repeatedly in a ‘come hither’ motion inside him. 

Valentino’s vision exploded in a cascade of colors, and the bathroom was suddenly filled with a cacophony of sounds that he, later on, would flat-out refuse ever having made. The tight knot unfurled and seeped out of him, while he had a hard time breathing. Two hands clutched Vox’s screen tightly, a third was plastered against the glass, and a fourth against the wall of the shower cabin. 

“Vox, Vox, Vox,” he panted, forcing his name past his lips despite barely having enough air in his lungs to sustain himself. 

But, like any other high, the crash set in way sooner than he would have liked. He was still buzzing pleasantly when he let go of Vox’s screen, and Vox sputtered and coughed for air himself, pulling back from Valentino. 

Valentino’s eyes were closed, until he felt Vox’s soothing claws against his inner thighs. He winced slightly when he pulled them out of him, letting them caress his other thigh. 

“You did good, Val,” he purred. 

"Shut up,” Valentino muttered, breathless, and verging on laughing. 

“Naahh. I think I’ll have this looming over you for the rest of eternity, actually,” Vox said smugly. “Unless you become my partner.”

“Business or pleasure?”

“Why not both?”

Valentino considered it for a second. 

“What of Angel?”

Vox shrugged. 

“He’s not my problem.”

Valentino laughed and put a hand on his forehead. 

“God, you’re hot when you don’t give a shit, Voxxy. Fuck it, fine. We’re business partners first, fuck buddies second. Got it?”

“Got it,” Vox grinned and got up. His knees creaked. “What will you say to Angel Dust?”

Valentino shrugged, getting up as well. His ass ached from having sat on the hard perch for so long. Nothing he wasn’t used to, though. 

“Let me deal with him. Hell, maybe we can all have some fun at some point. His dick game is simply unmatched, I tell ya.”

“It better be if you keep him around.”

“Ohh, jealous, Voxxy?” 

Vox squeezed Valentino’s plump rear before giving it a firm slap. Valentino giggled and spun around in a flurry of wings and fur. 

“Well. Don’t worry your pretty TV screen head... thing... about it. Maybe, when you and I are Overlords, we can have him working for us. What ya think about that, baby?”

Vox pondered it for a moment, then grinned maliciously. 

“I like the sound of that. Now, get dried off. We have business to do, don’t we, Val? Some Angels need slaying.”

[punkeropercyjackson]

Literally cannot put into words how much i hate bisexual Percy Jackson hcs.It NEVER uses guys who're actually good enough for Percy and just narrows in on the ones she hates instead and rightfully so on her part seeing as she's only 18 and they were all grown from the start of the saga and as a young adult too,she shouldn't be dating anyone over 23 with her current age,much less someone who she hasn't actually interacted with when grown as she is now and sorry to have to break it to you but all 'evidence' you use to say she's 'canonically super into men' is taken out of context deliberately

Her describing Ares as 'handsome,i guess' was a backhanded compliment about how he fits so much into male attractiveness standards she finds him offputting and she says 'but wicked' afterwards and 'cruelest,most brutal face she'd ever seen' beforehand which confirms this.Her calling Zeus' expression 'proud and handsome and grim' is a common familial thing said about older family members.She straight up said Mr D is 'not that handsome' and that Hermes nose 'isn't that big' that implies she thinks it makes him ugly.She uses the 'handsome,i guess' line a second time about Annabeth's dad followed by 'for an older guy' so it's canon she dosen't find older men hot.This applies to Apollo too since she never calls his conventional hotness a good thing and instead uses it to emphasize what a loser she thinks he is and that he creeps her out.And for Luke,y'all's 'defitinive proof':The only instence of her implying he's attractive to her is 'not at all handsome' when he betrayed her so any potential crush was lost on her part after the whole college aged man beating on an extremely lonely 12 year old he'd groomed into trusting him incident

The only instance of her showing legit textual attraction to boys is her best friendship with Jason and the most standout example is her being in a dreamy dazed state as she compares him to Superman.I know you guys hyperfixate on the blonde part but the truth is anyone with reading comprehension can tell you his positive and healthy masculinity a la Superman's is what actually made her flustered and there's a reason she never compares him to Luke or Annabeth throught their many interactions,it being Percy dosen't have an actual type unless we count people who treat her well and saying 'she has a thing for blondes' is factually incorrect because her loving Rachel was canon but no blonde crushes except Annabeth were.Another thing that IS canon is that Percy considers Luke's treatment of her to be traumatizing and further proof that adults ain't shit and what inspired her to be better to troubled kids like she used to be than them as we see with Nico and Hazel and her being their punk mentor and pseudo-mom instead of a fascist and pedophile

You're wondering why i used she/her for Percy?Because she's extremely femme trans woman-coded and THAT is a queer Percy you can say is canon since unlike the bi one,official material never referred to her as 'tragically cisgender' so it's free game and more in-character and better writing than using her as a prop to prove how good your faves because look,the objectively best character in the series was drooling over him,you HAVE to love him too!!!Percy's attracted to men but only the ones who actually deserve her,always has been,always will be.Maybe you should stick to Harry Potter and Marauder's Era if you don't like it

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 9 - Say goodnight

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Some smut…insecurities in reader

I’m back! I’ve been a bit caught up with work and parenting so things have been a little crazy. Hoping I should have more time coming up to dedicate to this! Apologies in advance…this is a little smut/fluff to warm us up before we get into the angst next chapter (I’m sorry) As always, your reblogs and comments mean the world – it’s lovely to see people engaging with his story!

You slugged him hard on the shoulder, something you seemed to be doing a lot lately.

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” you scolded, still slightly breathless.

Annoyed, you tensed up and began pushing against his chest to prise yourself off him. You saw the slight look of fear on his face as he wrapped his arms around you in what was essentially a bear hug – keeping himself inside of you.

“Hey, whoa! It was a joke. I’m sorry…I guess that was all kinda intense and I didn’t really know what to say,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I meant to lighten the mood, not piss you off, believe it or not. That’s the last thing I want, okay?”

You softened a little as he kissed you again. It was true, despite his charm he was often clumsy with his words and misread the room. He didn’t seem to do it on purpose…so you let it go. This time, anyway.

“Alright…fine,” you relented as your muscles relaxed again. “But you don’t always have to…fill the silence, y’know? Sometimes…you can just be”.

He nodded. “I know, I’m trying,” he said gently as he moved a strand of hair from your face. “But look…that was…amazing. Just…wow”.

He laughed and you laughed too. “Wow is much better,” you giggled. “I can work with wow…”

*

The two of you continued to ‘wow’ one another over the upcoming weeks. Your place. His place. Once or twice in the back office at the bar (dangerously close to being caught when Peter knocked that second time…and Bucky angrily told him he was too busy doing the books when actually you were on your knees in front of him…)

His touch was addictive. You didn’t think you’d ever get enough. Even little things like him subtly brushing a finger over your lower back as he passed, or leaning over and pressing himself into you as he went to grab a drink from the bar, seemed to get you going. He knew exactly what he was doing too, shooting you a little wink or smirk each time. He liked to keep you on edge.

Neither of you had raised if you were going to go ‘public’ with your little arrangement. You didn’t want to bring it up, not wanting to appear needy or to want a ‘what are we?’ type conversation. You did tell Wanda and Vis, there were your only real friends here outside of the MC and you didn’t like the idea of lying to them about how you were spending your evenings. They had been surprised, and Wanda had warned you to be careful – she told you Bucky’s reputation was based on two things – whatever sketchy shit he had going on behind the front of his businesses, and the copious amounts of women he landed. Neither of which was a shock to you, but you were grateful for her cautioning.

If you were honest, the secret nature of your relationship with Bucky was welcomed by you. Part of you felt a little self-conscious – like the MC would all think ‘oh, there goes another one…’ or view you differently because of it. Another silly girl getting entangled with Bucky…What else is new? Keeping things quiet meant you wouldn’t embarrass yourself when it unavoidably started to go wrong…

Plus, you didn’t really want to have to deal with any other women who had him on their radar, particularly Amber…

…Who wasn’t really around as much. Her friends still came by the bar, and she did too sometimes. But less and less so. Bucky hadn’t mentioned her, you weren’t sure if he had spoken to her or if she’d just moved on elsewhere. You didn’t think he would’ve brought you up with her, but maybe she sensed he was either pulling away or spending time with another girl.

You’d hoped she had just met a nice guy and had moved on from the MC…but there was a moment one evening where you were pouring a beer at the bar and Bucky had leaned over under the guise of picking up a box at your feet, only to whisper something salacious in your ear as he passed. You’d giggled and grinned, elbowing him away playfully, and as you looked back up you had locked eyes with Amber from across the room. You’d given her a small smile, but she just stared right back. You felt oddly under fire, as if caught out, despite the fact anyone watching the same interaction most likely wouldn’t have batted an eyelid. It was as if Amber was in tune with Bucky in a way the others weren’t, especially when a rival was concerned, and she saw through your bullshit immediately.

You’d barely seen her since that night, but maybe that was for the best. You weren’t interested in beefing with another woman over a man, especially not that woman. And that man…

Aside from Amber, the only other person you wondered who might not be fooled was Steve. He and Bucky were best friends, after all. More like brothers, as Bucky had explained to you. They had grown up together. Steve had been with Bucky through it all, been dutifully by his side when he recovered from losing his arm, ran the MC with him and stuck with him no matter what.

Even if Bucky hadn’t told Steve about you, he seemed to be more aware than some of the others. His stoic silence often was down to him surveying the scene, taking everything in. A mouse couldn’t fart in the bar without Steve knowing about it. He was the eyes and ears of the MC. He had never said anything directly to you, but there had been a few looks he gave you and Bucky that seemed pointed. His sky blue eyes said much more than he did. But maybe you were just projecting…

Thankfully, everyone else was as oblivious as you needed them to be.

Once, as you sat with a few club members to wind down after closing, Bucky had brazenly dragged his hand over your bare thigh under the table. It had been a warm and stuffy night, so you’d done your shift in a pair of denim shorts and a t-shirt. You’d discreetly raised an eyebrow at him, which quickly evolved into an expression of controlled panic as he trailed his finger across your skin before casually unzipping your fly and making his way in, moving past your underwear. You’d bitten your lip to stay quiet as he found your clit and began working you over, all the while chatting away to Bruce like nothing was happening. You tried to bat him away, but he kept coming back, and you soon caught on that people would notice if you tried any harder and made a scene as a result. You quickly understood he was counting on using your embarrassment to silence you.

And, well, damn him - it did feel good…

He didn’t look over at you once as he continued, but his fingers didn’t let up as you began to feel the familiar heat build within. You hated to admit to yourself how much it excited you. You knew how wet you were, how close you were. He knew it too, based on how he began to adjust his pace and pressure. Your entire body tensed as you realised to your horror, that in spite your discomfort, your body was about to betray you and give you a very public orgasm. As the feeling bloomed and the heat swelled, you took a large sip of your water and glanced downwards in an attempt to cover up any potential facial expressions that might give you away. You choked on the mouthful, spitting a little out down your chin as your climax hit, your shoulders shuddering.

“You okay?” Sam asked from across the table as he looked at you with concern.

You nodded bashfully, “Uh, yeah, sorry,” you croaked – still dazed and a little out of it, “Choked on my water”.

“You gotta go easy, doll,” Bucky chimed in smugly as he withdrew his hand and subtly zipped up your shorts.

You glared at him with an expressionless face, but your eyes told him all he needed to know as he defiantly smirked back at you. He then retained eye contact as he appeared to ‘absent-mindedly’ suck on the tip of his finger and pretended to listen to Nat’s conversation with Sam. You managed to suppress a squeak as you felt the warmth rush to your cheeks.

Later, to pay him back for his little stunt, you angrily rode him back at his place and edged him until he was a whiny mess begging for release. Which you gladly gave him (eventually). Then you were even. It wasn’t often you took charge with him, but you knew he enjoyed it when you did. Just as much as he enjoyed when you were the babbling wreck.

That seemed to be a large part of your dynamic, always trying to one-up each other and ‘win’. It was thrilling, exciting. It probably wasn’t healthy…but you didn’t care. This wasn’t serious anyway. It was just fun. Someone to spend the time with in-between sorting through Granny’s boxes and painting her walls. Someone to make you laugh and give you orgasms and kill time with at your bar job. Someone whose initial rule that you didn’t sleepover had lapsed when you both passed out after a particularly vigorous session. Someone whose arms you awoke in the following morning, who didn’t rag on you for sleeping over but instead kissed your crown and didn’t speak. Someone who laid with you and held you so tenderly that it silenced you, famously a smart mouth, you, too. Someone who you began to sleep with most nights, even when you weren’t working. Whose absence you felt when he wasn’t there, someone who you realised you slept better with alongside. Dreamless, deep sleep that actually felt restorative and restful and allowed you to wake feeling refreshed and ready for the day. Someone who in the early light of day would smile sleepily at you and kiss you, morning breath be damned, and pull you into him like you hadn’t just been sleeping in his arms for all those hours before.

Someone not serious.

Another time, late one night, he took you out on his bike. The feeling of the wind in your hair, the exhilaration of the speed, the warmth of his leather as you wrapped your arms around his waist…it helped you to understand why Bucky loved all of this so much. There was something very freeing about rocketing down the roads at top speeds, not shrouded in a box as you were in a car, just out in the air – free and uninhibited.

He drove you both to a hillside on the edge of town where you could see everything below. You’d sat on the grassy verge together and silently watched the lights of the buildings beneath you, thinking about all those people in their homes…going about their lives. Were they happy? Is this what they imagined their life would be?

Is this how you’d imagined yours?

Maybe.

He moved his hand over your own and kept it there, not speaking. You didn’t really need to speak when it came to Bucky. You did talk, sometimes late into the night – about your past, your passions, your disappointments and fears. He was easy to talk to, he didn’t always say the right thing but he listened intently. He remembered details and brought them up later. Being with him was just…easy. In silence or in noise.

You both sat there, hand in hand, time lost as you watched the lights below and the stars above. One by one the houses would go dark, the residents retiring to their beds as their home slept along with them. Unknowingly watched over by the two of you as you continued your silent observation. You could see Granny’s home in the distance, the porch lights on for your ease when you got home later. You wondered if Granny had ever been up here, if she’d seen her home the way you saw it now.

Bucky turned to you and smiled, leaning in and kissing you softly. Taking his time as his nose brushed against yours and the strands of his hair slipped out from behind his ears. If you’d dropped dead at that second, you knew you would be at peace.

Your stomach curled as you realised what this all meant. The inevitable fact you’d been hiding from yourself for some time.

You were in love with Bucky Barnes.