#but those two really grew fast on me
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sunshinetomioka · 7 months ago
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having fun for pride by drawing my favourite queer Robin !!
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some close-ups
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I wanted to make Jason a mix of his more regular design (with the hairtyle) while putting what I liked about his design in Gotham Knights, I like when he looks all bulky and has lots of scars <333 Also I think Jason is pansexual but never really understood it until recently ! And I'm a firm believer of Trans Tim (but if i listened to myself i'd make everyone trans so-)
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smollsmule · 4 months ago
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Ok ok but you wanna know the real tea?? I've read several beach fics at this point (which are all awesome btw, y'all are amazing writers) and it's a beloved staple to have Edwin be somehwat scandalised at everyone's beach outfits not to mention all flustered from seeing Charles in swim wear. Which is a Good Trope, don't get me wrong, I love that just as much as the next person
HOWEVER
I think actually it's Charles who should be more shooketh about Edwin in his funky lil edwardian two piece!!
Picture this. The year is 1916. You are 16 year old Edwin Payne with a bunch of repressed gay thoughts. Much unpleasantness happens, you die and get dragged to hell, even more unpleasantness happens, 70 years later you finally manage to claw your way up and suddenly women are allowed to vote. There's been not one but two world wars, several countries you grew up reading about in the news don't exist anymore and mini skirts are a thing now.
All I'm saying is, for all the teasing Edwin gets for "What is a handjob?" and "Crystal's internet", this kid was essentially thrust into a scifi world full of weird shit and gets mostly by via an attitude which can only be paraphrases as "fuck it, this might as well be a thing (maybe ask Charles about it later)". King of adaption, master of radical acceptance.
Charles on the other hand, and I say this with only love in my heart, is at his core a boomer. He was there for every tiny gradual shift from '89 to modern day. Sure, he was dead for most of that time, but that's not really relevant. All I'm saying is, seeing the bbc announce marriage equality was probably a bigger shock to Charles than it was to Edwin. That's a guy who already had to accept he will never fully wrap his head around home television.
Also consider the states of undress they've been exposed to seeing the other in. Edwin was stripped to his underwear in hell and still had his knees and elbows covered. And that was probably a more exposing outfit than he'd ever be comfortable with. His usual casual get up features a sweater vest for crying out loud! Meanwhile you have Charles going full 'ceps out in his undershirt first chance he gets. Edwin either got real cool with a lot of shit real fast or he would have combusted several times over those 30 years.
And yes yes, we've all seen Edwin "Haunted By Gay Thoughts" Payne's mental slideshow of abs n hips close ups after getting one (1) glance at the Cat King's stomach. But to his credit, the man was going through a full blown sexuality crisis at that and has since emerged victorious.
So all I'm saying is. Edwin seeing Charles shirtless at the beach? Probably not even the first time this is happening, a lil flustering for sure but just last week he saw two people making out nasty on the tube so hell if he knows. Charles seeing Edwin's kneecaps and upper arms for the first time? Incredible, show stopping, pride and predjudice 2005 hand flex level of suppressed horniness.
Anyway. I'm writing this fic now and none of y'all can stop me.
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thevillainswhore · 13 days ago
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Dancing With The Devil I
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Pairing: Alternative!Bucky Barnes x Cheerleader!F!Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Summary: You were always a sensible girl — an angel some would say. But how quickly are you willing to shred your wings when the devil himself is so damn tempting?
Or, Bucky Barnes, college’s resident bad boy, upturns your ethics, your morals, your life when you invite him to support the cheer teams’ fundraising kissing booth.
Warnings: College AU, bad boy v. good girl trope, inexperienced!reader, Bucky has tattoos and piercings, pet names, unwanted groping (not from Bucky!!), violence, mention of blood, sexual tension, almost kisses.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d. Divider by @saradika-graphics. Part 1 of 2 — this is a build up to the smut. Hope you enjoy!
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The fundraiser season was upon you — an event your college went a little crazy for every year and as a new member of the cheer squad, it was a main part of your duty to join in with the festivities. 
A proposition of a kissing booth, shyly put forward by yourself had become a hit amongst the rest of the cheerleaders that they instantly approved of — most of them, at least. It was all in good spirit to raise money for charity. 
And so wanting to gather hype around the event — one you had tirelessly worked day and night to put together — you and your best friend, Sharon, volunteered to hand out fliers together. The two of you wandered aimlessly around the courtyard in your team uniform to spread the word. 
“I think this is going to be really good, sweet,” Sharon excitedly spoke over her shoulder as she stapled a flier onto the notice board. “I checked our hashtag on the school's twitter page this morning and we’re already trending.”
Your eyes widened and you spun your head towards her in shock. “Really?” Whipping out your phone from your skirt pocket, you quickly brought up the app and checked the post — already the most anticipated fundraiser of the night. “That was fast!” 
“Mhm,” she mumbled, nodding her head. Slyly, she looked over at you from the corner of her eye. “I bet you’re excited about all those hot and sweaty football players who are gonna be lining up for a kiss.” 
Your head snapped up from your phone with your mouth parted, struggling to scold her. “Sharon!” you squealed. 
“What?” The smirk on her face was all too teasing for your liking. “You know most of them are gonna be desperate for a small piece of you, sweets.” 
Your cheeks grew warm, an embarrassed heat growing up your neck as you stumbled over your words. “N-No I don’t think so—“
“C’mon babe.” Sharon stopped what she was doing and cocked her hip towards you with a raised eyebrow. “You really don’t see the boys practically drooling over you?” 
Honestly, you didn’t see it. Spending most of your time practicing your routines or studying in the library, there was no time to worry about boys and you didn’t have much experience within the relationship department anyway, which made you blind to any advances. 
“Even if they did, they’re not my type.” You shrugged, not giving in to the disbelieving expression on Sharon’s face. “I’m serious! I’m just not into that.” 
“Okay, sure—whatever you say.” Your friend playfully taunted you with a smile until her gaze locked onto something behind you. A small frown appeared on her lips and a not-so-subtle sneer lined her cheeks. “Just so long as it isn’t them, for fucks sake—the last thing you need is an asshole like that.”
Spinning around, you squinted your eyes, looking for whoever Sharon was talking about. A group of students, dressed collectively in hoodies, leather jackets and combat boots were gathered around the bike sheds with a cloud of smoke billowing over their heads. 
“What’s wrong with them?” you asked inquisitively, genuinely stumped for her dismay. 
“Trust me, sweets. You don’t want to get wrapped up with those people. They’ll fucking eat you up and spit you back out,” Sharon replied. 
Leaning on your tiptoes, you spotted a familiar face in the crowd. “Well, what about Wanda? She’s with them and she’s not an asshole.” 
Your friend seemed to struggle to come up with an answer to your question. “That’s different. She’s part of our squad and she’s actually nice.” 
That didn’t appease you, though. “Couldn’t that mean the others are nice, too?”
Sharon was protective, fierce to those she loved and held dear. She had befriended you the day you bumped into each other on the field for practice; when your eyes were holding back tears after Daisy, the second in command cheerleader, made a remark with her friends about how on earth you had managed to be accepted onto the team. 
Since then, the two of you have been glued at the hip — like sisters you dared to think. Her advice was gospel to you and so you took her word seriously. “Sweetie, they’re no good. Just trust me.” 
“Okay,” you sighed as you turned back around. A solemness took over as you remembered that you had been benched to the sidelines for your very own event. “I don’t actually think I’ll be working the booth anyway. Daisy said she only needs me on clean up duty.” 
Sharon’s body suddenly tensed with aggravation.
“Excuse me?” Her eyes were burning with fury as she turned to look at you. “Daisy said what now?”
“T-That I have to clean up?” you offered once again unsure.
Your friend scoffed. “She can’t do that—she has no fucking right to do that. You came up with the idea!” 
The intensity of her anger, even when not directed at you, was overwhelming and your eyes darted down while you mumbled disheartenedly, “I know but what can I do? What she says goes.” 
The fire in Sharon’s eyes was unlike anything else as she went on a tirade of rage — her own dislike for Daisy getting the better of her. 
You zoned out of the conversation, not wanting to dwell on the upset Daisy’s disapproval of you caused. Instead, you counted the rest of your fliers, satisfied to at least have made progress for the day. 
Just as you were about to jump back into the heated conversation, laughter behind you caught your attention. While Sharon was busy brewing in her hatred, you glanced over your shoulder to once again look at the group you had become so intrigued by. 
The colourful paper in your hand, rustling together with the slight breeze drew you to look at them. You only had a few fliers left and you knew Daisy would have something to say if you came back with them. 
A lightbulb dinged in your mind. Your head snapped up; your whole face lit up with the prospect to gain a wider audience for your event. 
Sharon’s voice became clear then. “I can’t believe she even has the audacity when she’s not even the head cheerleader. Such a stuck up bi—“ 
“We still have fliers left!” you interrupted your friend mid sentence, feigning shock as though you had only just noticed. She stopped talking and frowned while you began to walk backwards. “M-Maybe I should just head over there to hand them out. We do need all the people we can get after all.”
Looking behind you, the direction of your steps, her eyes widened once she saw where you were going. “Sweets—,” she warned, as though she was talking to an animal ready to run. “Come back here, please.” 
But there was no use; you had already spun around and started skipping on over. “Hey—Wait! Get back here you little shit!” 
The pleats of your skirt bounced along with you while you giggled, your shoes scuffing along the pavement until you stopped in front of the large group. With the little confidence you had, you cleared your throat before squeaking your greeting over the loudness. “Hi!” 
Instantly, conversation amongst everyone died down, every single person turning their head to you. A pin drop could be heard over the busy courtyard. 
The amount of beady eyes, all wondering who had interrupted them, caused an overwhelming anxiety to fester in your stomach. Regret soon sank in as what small bout of bravery you once had soon whittled away once you gained their attention. 
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you were sure everyone heard your gulp before you forced yourself to speak.  “I—I um, just wanted to—to hand these out.” Your hands shook as you held the vibrant fliers up — the red and pinks contrasting to the sea of black and greys staring you down like prey. “For our fundraiser cel-celebration.”
The awkwardness dragged on in the silence and your skin crawled with nerves. This was a terrible idea. Sharon was right, you should have never come over and instead listened to her. But you were soon pulled from your inner turmoil. 
A brooklyn drawl, raspy yet smooth cut through the deafening stillness at the same time a tall figure stood up in the crowd, whistling low as he feasted on you. “Well ain’t you the prettiest lil’ thing, hoppin’ on over in your short skirt.” 
It was difficult, even in the daylight, to make out the face of this stranger; long shaggy brown hair, hidden behind a hood. Even partly elusive, you had never seen anyone like him before, but you couldn’t deny the tingles that shot up your arms and made the fine hairs stand on edge. 
His thick-soled boots, covered in buckles that jingled with each step, thudded menacingly along the concrete while he made his way over to you. And as the sun hit his face just right, that’s when you saw his eyes, bright blue and sparkling; giving attention to his silver nose ring.  
You were held to your spot, breathless and squirming. Though you tampered yourself as he drew closer and finally came before you, one step away from touching your toes. “So, what’s this you got planned, sweet thing?”
A gruff blonde with cropped hair and a sleeveless denim jacket snorted behind him, a thick scruffy beard decorating his face. “Go easy on her, punk.” 
The stranger that had you a little starstruck brought himself even closer — within an inch of you — crossing his arms behind his back and squinting curiously to look directly into your eyes, a gleam in his own.
You were intoxicated by the smell of leather and smoke, a combination that should have made you feel sick and yet rendered you dizzy with heat. The spell he bound you with held you in a deep trance. “A kissing booth,” you whispered timidly. 
“Oh?” He grinned wide, a huff of fresh mint from the gum he was chewing combined with his aroma. “A kissing booth, you say?”
“It’s for charity.” You licked your lips with hesitation. “You—um—you pay for a ticket and in return a girl of your choosing from the team can k-kiss you—“ A sudden thought that you had no idea who you were talking to stopped you from continuing and you shook your head apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.” 
The man in front of you smirked, sinister and perverse. His eyes darted between your own while you trembled, close to breaking a sweat. “You can call me Bucky, sweetheart,” he replied, smoothly. 
Murmurs and quiet chatter from the rest of Bucky’s friends picked up while he took you in, his eyes clinging to the bare skin of your thighs, barely covered by your cheer skirt. 
You began to introduce yourself, too. “My name is—“ 
“Oh, I know who you are.” The corner of his lips curled up while he dragged his eyes lazily up your body. “I’ve seen how you move. The twirls and spins and shit, lookin’ all cute.”  
“Y-You have?” you asked in shock, surprised to find he was already familiar with you. 
“Mm, I’ve heard all about you.” He nodded, before cocking his head behind him. To your surprise, you looked and found your squad mate, Wanda, who threw you a sly wink. Your attention was brought back to Bucky, gliding his pierced tongue across his pearly white teeth. “A cute bunny showing off her tricks is kinda hard to miss.” 
His presence was all too intimidating, but one of the sweetest addictions you knew would give you an all time high. You couldn’t keep still, switching your weight between you feet as subtly as you could possibly manage. Opening your mouth, you readied yourself to respond until Bucky’s eyes flicked to your side. 
An all too out of breath Sharon, weary eyed and scary looking stormed towards you. Uncaring for your new friend, she stood in front of him, blocking his view while her hands grasped your upper arms to check you over. “Sweetie! Are you okay?” 
The strenuous effort to tear your eyes away from Bucky was almost impossible. “Mhm,” you mumbled noncommittally, finally able to bring your gaze to Sharon. “I’m okay.”
Leaning to the side, Bucky caught your eyes once again as he asked. “Will you be workin’, sweetheart?”
Confusion fogged up your mind, disorientated as your eyes played tennis between him and your best friend. “I’m sorry?”
“The kissing booth.” He reiterated, standing straight to pluck the cigarette tucked behind his ear. Those damned eyes never left you while he placed it between his lips and grabbed a light from his back jean pocket. “Will you be workin’ it?” 
“Oh!” You shook your head, trying to get out of your daze as he lit his cigarette. “I—um—I don’t know. I don’t think so. Technically?” Nerves made you ramble on. “I’m sort of working—but I won’t be near the booth and—”
Stepping forward, Bucky gently pushed Sharon out the way. “Hey!” she huffed, glaring at him. But he ignored her in favour of closing the distance between the two of you.  
He placed his thumb over your lips, effectively silencing you as he took a drag of his smoke and blew it out to the side of you with a smirk. “You’ll be there, Bunny.” Your eyes fluttered when he chucked your chin and winked. “Make sure of it and you won’t regret it.”
Struggling to come down from floating in the clouds, you almost whined as he teased his finger along your neck when he stepped back — his chilled rings lit your nerves on fire. You stared hopelessly after him as he started to walk backwards away from you to his friends.  
“I’ll bring some of these fuckers too!” he shouted over the growing distance between you, gracing you with one last grin. “Good for business and all.” 
You sighed, a love-sickening one that caused your friend to roll her eyes. Sharon clicked her fingers in your face, snapping you out of your haze. “Sweets!” 
You shook your head and your hooded eyes darted over to her. “Huh?” 
Sharon grabbed your shoulders, a firm scolding ready on her lips. “Listen to me,” she implored. “You need to stay away from him. He’s bad news.” 
You swallowed, unable to help the flicker of your eyes back to Bucky, watching as he threw his head back while he laughed, his full head of long hair framing his face beautifully. 
Sharonl cleared her throat pointedly and you snapped back to her, a guilty expression to your features. “Okay?” she reiterated. 
You begrudgingly nodded, and she sighed, seemingly appeased for now. Looping her arms through yours, she pulled you away and began to speak about your fundraiser once more. 
When once, incessant talk and arrangement of the kissing booth would have spilled from your lips, you held quiet; basking in whatever the hell had just happened. 
It was impossible to stop yourself from looking over your shoulder once more. To catch a final peek of Bucky, and your heart jumped as you caught his steel eyes already focused on you. Glancing back to Sharon, she was in her own world, already deep into discussion about decorations. 
Discreetly, you turned around, happy to find Bucky’s gaze still reciprocated and so you waved, small enough to not catch your friend’s attention. You held back a squeal, fighting to stave off the bubble in your throat that was desperate to escape when he brought his inked hand up to his mouth and blew you a kiss. 
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It was a couple of days later while you were grabbing your books for your next class when you next saw Bucky. Earlier than expected but not at all in the way you imagined. 
You were at your locker, reaching to the back for that one annoying book that always seemed to hide from you. Your back was turned to the busy corridors, other students passing by as your fingertips ghosted along the textbook you needed when the feel of someone’s hand groping your ass caused you to jump in fright. 
Spinning around in shock, you came face to face with an all too pleased Tony Stark — the school’s rich playboy. “Hey, sweet cheeks.” 
The sleazy grin he donned made you feel queasy, but to avoid confrontation, you instead laughed nervously, hiding your discomfort. “Um, h-hi, Tony.”
He leaned his arm over your head against the lockers, trapping you in with no way to escape. “How haven’t I noticed you before, hm? Nothing better than some fresh meat on the cheerleading team.” 
Beginning to squirm, you shifted away as best as you could with hardly any distance between you — the unease you felt clear from your expression. “Excuse me—I’m sorry—you’re just—a little too close—“ 
“Let me take you out tonight,” he interrupted, careless to your lack of comfortability. “I’ll show you a real good time.” 
Alarm bells started to ring in your head. The fact that he had touched you without permission in such a crowded place and continued to ignore your requests unsettled you deeply. 
You looked around frantically, trying to silently scream for help. But no one batted an eyelid to your situation.
“Tony,” you quietly said, not wanting to cause a scene. “I’m not interested and I’ve really got to go—“
“Don’t be a prude, babe.” A lump tightened in your throat as Tony pawed at your waist, his clammy fingers digging into you harshly. “It’s not a good look on you.” 
Fear clouded your ability to shout out. Sharon wasn’t there to be your knight in shining armor like usual and you clawed down your cries as best as you could. To your dismay, tears began to gather over your waterline. “Please. Just—just move back and we can talk—“ 
“It’s okay,” he whispered against your neck. “Just say yes and I’ll take care of you.” 
Closing your eyes tight, you willed for him to leave you alone, your fingernails digging into your palms so hard they created indents into your skin. His breath against your neck made you desperately want to crawl out of your skin, his unwanted touch and proximity more of a burden than a compliment. 
You were rendered useless, weak. His heavy weight pinned you down to the lockers and left you unmoving. Overwhelmed, your breathing started to become erratic, panicked and just as you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, Tony’s presence disappeared and the air rushed back to your lungs. 
A loud commotion sounded on the other side of the hallway, but the blur of it all was disabling. It took you a while to gather the courage to squint your eyes open and once your vision became clear, you gasped at the sight of Bucky slamming Tony against the other side of the lockers, holding him up by his shirt with an unparalleled fury in his darkened eyes. 
“B-Barnes!” Tony squeaked in shock. “Heyy there, take it easy big guy—“ 
Bucky jolted him brutally another time. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’ to her?” he growled, venom in his voice and a tone that held no room for humour. 
Tony laughed, apprehensively. “C’mon man, we were just having some fun.”
Disgust was clearly visible on Bucky’s face as he reeled back, only serving to make him angrier. “Fun?” he scoffed. “You think it’s fun bein’ a fuckin’ creep? She told you no.” 
Soon enough, a mob of students had gathered around the commotion, filming with their phones and whispering amongst themselves in anticipation for a fight. 
You watched as Tony’s cheeks flared red, the embarrassment of being so easily overpowered by Bucky in front of the whole school paralysing him when his eyes suddenly shot to you, a vein bulging from his forehead. 
You cowered back as much as possible, covering your body with your arms while he spat, “Are you fucking kidding me? She—she wants it! Look at her! The bitch is practically begging for it in that skirt.” 
There was a stilted pause, a deathly quiet over the hallway before a chilling laugh echoed from Bucky. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that.” 
A flock of shouts and cheers bounced off the lockers as Bucky threw Tony to the ground. Without remorse, he grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt before he tried to desperately crawl away and pummeled him to the floor with a single punch, the silver rings on his fingers cutting the skin of Tony’s cheek and smothering blood over his face. 
You winced as you heard Tony’s pleas for mercy as Bucky continued to lay into him. The sight should have worried you — Sharon’s previous warnings clear as day in your head — but your thighs rubbed together instead, an ache between them leaving you equal parts aroused and concerned.
The one sided fight seemed to be over within seconds. Bucky stopped, letting Tony flop to the floor, gifted with an instantaneous black eye and most likely broken nose. 
Stepping over his body, Bucky squatted down, a grave warning grunted as his chest rose and fell with adrenaline. “If you ever talk about Bunny like that again, or even look at her.” He paused, laughing sadistically. “Who am I fuckin’ kiddin’? If you dare breathe the same air as her again, I won’t be so fuckin’ kind next time.” The humour died from his tone within seconds. “Are we clear?” 
When he didn’t hear a response from Tony, he forcefully kicked his boot into the side of his ribs. “I said, are we clear?”
“Y-Yes! Yes—please—we’re clear!” Tony coughed out a quick reply, the pain in his voice evident. 
Satisfied, Bucky swept his long hair back from his face and stood up. He caught his breath for a moment, hands on his hips as the students watched on, just as mesmerised as you. 
But he paid them no attention as he suddenly brought his gaze over to your direction. He had no trouble finding you as he towered over the crowd and they immediately parted the way for him while he strode towards you. 
You held your breath when he reached you and immediately cradled your face with his hands — his delicacy while he handled you compared to Tony stunned you. He wiped the remaining tears away with his thumbs as he looked at you with concern. “Angel, are you okay?”
It took you a while to respond, still reeling from the previous events. “I—I think so,” you stuttered, though not from fear of Tony anymore. 
Bucky’s hands gently fell down to your waist, the cutout of your uniform allowing him to touch your bare skin. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure he—“
As he lightly squeezed your hips, you inhaled sharply, a shoot of pain radiating through your body. 
Bucky instantly stopped in his tracks and quickly lifted his hands, only to find bruises in the shape of fingertips staining your skin. A dark cloud fell over his cerulean eyes. “That fucker,” he growled, turning to shoot daggers at Tony’s form still crouched on the floor. “I’m gonna kill him.” 
Before Bucky could lunge back at him, you grabbed at his arms, a desperate need to keep him close. “No!” you cried, waiting until he whipped his head back round to you as you pleaded, “Please stay with me.”
His gaze flicked back to your bruise, confliction locking up his muscles. “Bunny, he fuckin’ marked you. No way am I lettin’ him get away with that shit—“
You grabbed his hand and began dragging him along, away from everyone still lingering and staring at the two of you. “Please, Bucky?” 
The fury dissolved from his features, your sweet request too difficult to ignore. “Okay,” he sighed, following you blindly as you led him into an empty storage closet. 
Locking the door behind you, you turned the light switch on. There was limited proximity between you in the tight space, but Bucky seemed to have no qualms being so close to you. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, diverting your eyes away from him and fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. 
You didn’t see the confusion on Bucky’s face, how perplexed he was for your apology. “Bunny,” he called for you, waiting until you looked at him. “What in the fuck have you got to be sorry for?” 
Your breaths started to come in heavy, lips trembling as you tried to hold your tears back. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—to cause a fight,” you sniffled. “I shouldn’t have been wearing my uniform and—“ 
“Hey,” Bucky cut you off, stern and resolute. His fingers sweeped your hair out of your face gently. “You did absolutely nothin’ wrong, you hear me?”
Your eyes darted down, however he was quick to catch your chin with his forefinger and thumb. “Look at me.”
With glassy eyes, you did just that, reluctant but submissive to his order. 
Bucky wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, his thumb running back and forth soothingly, “Don’t you ever apologise for that shit.” His blue eyes bore into your soul. “I beat the shit out of that fucker because he deserved it. No one talks to you like that and gets away with it. You understand, baby?” 
Timidly, you nodded your head. “Mhm.”
“I mean it.” He reiterated, determined to make you see sense. 
You weren’t convinced, Bucky could tell. Delicately, he smoothed his free hand over your waist. “Besides,” he shrugged his shoulders, a teasing smile crawling onto his face. “My Bunny looks fuckin’ hot in her uniform.” 
Heat began to creep up your neck and a nervous giggle escaped from your lips. The anxious knot that had built in your stomach slowly began to unravel in Bucky’s presence. 
“There she is.” He stroked your bottom lip with his thumb. “C’mon, sweetheart you’ve gotta know how fuckin’ good you look in that outfit, waving your pom poms and puttin’ on a show.”
“You’ve watched me?” Your breathing picked up. 
“Course I fuckin’ have. Knew you were somethin’ special when Wanda mentioned you.” 
You relaxed into his hold, melting from his touch. However, from the corner of your eye, a flicker of dark red running down from his hand down to his wrist caught your attention. 
You gasped, grabbing his hand and turning it to get a better look at the damage to his knuckles. “Bucky! You’re bleeding!” 
He raised his eyebrows, a little surprised to see he was in fact bleeding. Laughing it off, he tried to ease your worries. “Ah sweetheart—it’s nothin’. Don’t even worry about it—“
“Like hell I won’t!” The unexpected fire in your voice stunned Bucky as his eyebrows rose in shock. Thinking on your toes, you spun around towards the shelves. “Let me find something.” 
While you were busy rummaging through storage boxes, you missed the heated glint in his eyes and the subtle squeeze of his own dick through his denim pants. 
You searched until you found an unopened pack of bandages along with some ointment cream. Softly, you took his hand over to the old sink in the corner and began washing the dried up blood staining his skin. 
Bucky watched intently while you gently cleaned him up, your tongue stuck out between your lips as you wrapped the bandage around his knuckles in concentration. 
“There. Good as new.” You smiled happily with your work and without thinking, you carefully lifted his damaged hand up to your lips to kiss over the bandage. 
The realisation of how bold your action was finally caught up to you. With caution, your eyes flitted up expecting the worst. However, your mouth slightly dropped open as you noticed the wicked glint in his eyes while he stared you down like a wolf. “You’re just precious, ain’t you, angel?” 
You didn’t have the chance to respond as Bucky spun you around and cornered you against the wall. You should have felt as vulnerable as you did with Tony, but you only whimpered with curious delight as tingles shot down your spine. 
Your noses bumped together when Bucky moved in even closer, lips so close to touching. “This okay, Bunny?” 
Fighting off a shudder, you quickly nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”
He chuckled breathily. “I haven’t stopped fuckin’ thinking about you.” 
Common sense seemed so far from reality as you closed your eyes and rested your head back against the wall. His scent dizzied you, his whole presence threw you for a loop. How the hell had he gotten into your system in such a short span of time? 
“You know I’d kill anyone who tried to touch you like that don’t you, baby?” Your fingers tangled into the lapels of Bucky’s leather jacket while his soft lips teased yours. “No one else can have you. You were mine since I laid eyes on you.” 
“Oh—Bucky.” Just as wrecked as you, he began to lean in and you closed your eyes in anticipation for his kiss. All he had to do was push forward, connect the remaining distance and claim you. 
But to your luck, the school bell for the beginning of class rang loud through the hallway. Sense came back to you then. Opening your eyes, you quickly untangled yourself out of Bucky’s hold. 
You half-expected him to be annoyed, but instead he had the biggest grin on his face, almost predatory. 
Skittishly you started to walk backwards towards the exit of the storage closet. “I—um,” you began. “I need to go—go to my class.” 
Bucky smirked even wider while he combed his ringed fingers through his messy hair and then slid his hands into his pockets. “Mhm,” he mumbled devilishly. 
“I’ll s-see you around?” You offered, lamely while you fumbled with the handle of the door. Your nerves built even higher when he started to stalk towards you and the simple task of opening the door seemed impossible. 
“You sure will, Bunny.” Bucky gained closer, a couple of steps away from you when you finally managed to swing the door open with urgency.
Hurriedly, you excited the closet, breathing heavily. But you shrieked as you collided into another person. Turning around to apologise, your words died on your tongue when you found the person you had bumped into was none other than Sharon. 
“Sweets?” she asked, instantly concerned at your flustered state. “What’s wrong? Did something happen—“ 
Then, her eyes glanced behind you, a scowl appearing on her face while a disheveled Bucky exited the same closet you just stumbled out of. 
You gulped as her fierce gaze shot to you. “I can explain.” 
“We’re having a serious talk.” Once again, Sharon dragged you away from Bucky and you fought to keep up to pace with her. 
You felt like a child being pulled away from their favourite toy. Bucky was trouble, that much you knew. But of course, you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder — a common occurrence it seemed — and you also couldn’t help the grin that crept onto your face as you watched him wiggle his fingers at you in goodbye with a wink. 
Trouble had never looked better — with horns and a tail that could make heaven’s most loyal angel want to sin. 
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kquil · 2 months ago
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SIRIUS BLACK | BIKER BOY
sum. : no one messes with a biker boy's biker girl
tags. : fluff ; modern day au ; muggle au ; bikerboy!sirius ; bikergirl!reader ; childhood friends to lovers ; sirius being a flirt ; boyfriend material sirius ; unrequited love? not really ; protective sirius ; angry sirius ; book-lover reader ; you balance each other out ; which is why you're the perfect match! ; Sirius swears a lot when he’s angry

length : 1.8k
navi. | more sirius black
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Growing up as Sirius’ childhood best friend had its ups and downs. The main down was that he was easy to fall in love with and be loved by, even if it remained platonic all this time. However, he came with many ups that kept you close despite the unrequited ache in your heart. His spritely, adventurous and charming nature brings out a balanced playfulness in you, pulling you away from your books so you can enjoy other things life has to offer. 
Naturally, as you grew older, the influence you had on one another’s decisions also grew and he had been able to convince you to join him in becoming a biker. He didn’t want to be alone in learning how to ride, getting a license and eventually purchasing a motorcycle so he had to bring you along for the ‘ride’ too. 
You’ve doubted your choice many times but the freedom it brought to go riding was addictive. Whenever you were angry or sad, all you had to do was hop on your motorbike and leave all those negative feelings behind to finally feel better again. The journey also led to many wonderful memories together, mainly out at 2 am with hardly any other vehicles around, so you had most of the roads to yourselves, giggling at each other through your earpieces and sometimes breaking into song just to fill the silence. All late-night outings also ended in him treating you to your craving for fast food that night.
“My treat, dollface,” it was always his treat; he made sure you never had to pay for a single meal. And even when you try to sneakily pay for items by withholding your order or pretending that you’re not hungry, he’s already memorised your preferred meals from every fast food place, so it’s futile. 
“It’s only courtesy that I ask what you want to order, you know that, right? Because I already know your orders by heart, so there’s no stopping me pretty girl.” you remember the once over he gives you, his smug smirk only growing when he finally meets your eyes again, “It is pretty cute, though, seeing you try so hard to defy me,” — how can he be so infuriating but so charming at the same time?!
On the road, Sirius tends to be the more reckless one while you remain more responsible. It’s the same dynamic you two built growing up, you need each other for balance and you’ve both realised this a long time ago. Since you know how fitting you are to have in one another’s lives, it’s no wonder you’ve stayed with each other for so long. 
To accommodate his reckless behaviour on the roads, you keep a lookout and sometimes go ahead of him to see if there are any patrolling policemen around so he can do a wheelie. However, It’s not a bulletproof strategy and he eventually gets himself a ticket for his reckless behaviour. And, though you felt guilty for not being a better lookout, he doesn’t blame you. He got caught by an undercover cop so you couldn’t have seen it coming anyway. After being ticketed, Sirius hears your whimpered apologies coming through his earpiece and rushes forward to hold you close and comfort you when it should have been you comforting him for receiving a ticket. 
“It’s because I was an idiot and roped you into my shenanigans,” he scoffs angrily at himself, holding you tighter. There’s a pause and when he hears your quiet sniffles, he softens his voice to an almost-whisper, “Please don’t cry, love
 you’re too pretty to cry,” 
You stay at the side of the road, hugging each other for a long time, even when the policeman has been long gone and Sirius has never asked you to keep watch for his stunts ever again. 
To accommodate your bookish and goody-two-shoes behaviour, Sirius makes sure to always stop by your favourite bookshop so you can indulge in your favourite book-browsing activity. Even when you protest and tell him you don’t need to go inside or browse any books, he always insists and when you end up taking a book or two to the counter, he always pays. You fall for it every time!
“You don’t have to pay for my books, Siri
”
“I don’t think you realise that I can more than afford it and that I don’t care what you think because it was my idea to stop here in the first place,” you hug him from behind around the waist as he pays for your books and asks that they provide a bag. 
“I’m gonna become a spoiled brat because of you,” you huff with pursed lips but he only pats your hand, where it’s placed on his front. 
“That’s the mission, doll. I bet you’ll just become even cuter,” you can imagine his smiling lips and winking eyes through his helmet and you have no words to say. 
Ugh! There’s no winning with this man!
It was impossible to not fall for a man like Sirius Black. It was sweet torture being his childhood best friend but you’ll get what you can take

Tonight was yet another night where Sirius invited you out for a late evening ride. It’s pitch black outside but you know that makes it perfect because there will hardly be any other cars on the road. So you quickly gear up and pull out with your bike and park by the pavement, ready to leave upon Sirius’ arrival. The man soon arrives and gives a wave before aligning his bike beside yours. Coming to a full stop, he leans over, tilts your helmet up from beneath its front point and leans down to touch the front of his helmet with yours in a kissing gesture.
“Good evening, beautiful girl,” He greets smoothly and stares longingly at you from beneath his visor as he makes a show of holding his head up with the palm of his hand as his elbow rests on the front tank of his bike. The infuriating git has gotten into this flirtatious habit recently and you don’t know what to do with yourself whenever he does it. The only thing you can do is urge him to hurry up and not waste time as he’s blocked you in with his bike and you can’t escape the situation.
“Hurry up Siri, or else it’ll be morning by the time we finally head out. And you were the one to invite me for a ride in the first place,” you disguise your flustered state with a semi-angry huff. 
His smooth chuckle filters through your earpiece like a seductive song and shoots a shiver down your spine, “Doesn’t matter, as long as you’re there with me, who cares? We can watch the sunrise together~” The two of you start to pull away from where you’re parked and head down your usual route. Tonight’s indulgent meal would either be at McDonalds or Five Guys. 
“Stop flirting with me, loverboy, you don’t stand a chance!” you tease. 
“Never!” he shouts and laughs when you tell him off for being too loud. 
It’s a fun ride for a while; it always is when there are hardly any cars around but, even with cars around, there usually aren’t any problems. Tonight, however, you think you’ve encountered the worst kind on the road: a pissy, drunk driver on the road.
“Whoa! Watch out! Dollface!” Sirius shouts in panic. 
“Oh my god!” you shriek and sharply turn away from a car that suddenly appears at your side on the dual carriageway. The car appeared out of nowhere and, if it weren’t for your fast reaction time, you would have collided and crashed. 
“Doll?!” Sirius calls out, his anger overlaid by worry. He’s seen what happened from where he was behind you and the drunk driver after almost getting hit himself. 
“I-I’m okay
” Looking through the window, you raise your hand, palm-side up as if to ask what’s wrong but the driver only flips you the bird. This was someone you didn’t want to continue any interactions with so you pulled away to the other lane and maintained a safe distance. It was no use, however, as the driver taunted you by pushing into your lane again. “He’s crazy
” you comment and pull back to ride beside Sirius instead.
But Sirius had other plans. He makes sure you stay back while he charges forward and hits hard against the driver’s window until you see the driver pull it down. Through the earpiece, you hear only Sirius’ side of the altercation as your heart races and drums against your ears. 
“WHAT THE HELL’S WRONG WITH YOU?! HUH?! FUCKFACE?!” there's a pause where you believe the driver gives a piss-poor excuse and Sirius wasn’t having any of it, “SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH! YOU COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY HURT MY GIRL AND THAT’S FUCKING UNACCEPTABLE! YOU HEAR ME?!” you pretend him calling you his girl didn’t make your stomach flip, “NO! A— I SAID SHUT. UP! YOU THINK I’M NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?! WATCH ME!” Sirius’ threat must have done something because you see the car begin to speed up but Sirius quickly follows and angrily punches the man’s side mirror so hard the mirror cracks and snaps where it’s attached to the car’s body. With his cracked wing mirror dangling pathetically at the side, the car finally speeds away and you hear nothing but Sirius’s heavy breathing in your ears. 
“S-Siri?...” He doesn’t say anything but motions for you to follow him off the motorway and leads you to the parking lot of the McDonalds you usually stop at. Once there, Sirius takes off his helmet and waits for you to pull up and follow suit. Hurrying off your bike, you also remove your helmet and are cut off by a hug just as you ask if he is okay. 
“I’m not okay
no
” he voices into your hair as you squeeze him tight, “I don’t know what I’d do if you’d gotten hurt, doll,” a sour expression crosses Sirius’ features, one that he buries into your neck where he kisses at your pulse point and you pretend your face isn’t heating up because of it, ”that pigheaded prick deserves to die for even attempting anything,”
“I-It’s alri—”
“I’ve memorised his number plate. I’ll track him down and make his life a living hell, I swear to god
 How. Dare. He? Stupid fuck, trying to hurt my girl. He deserves worse than prison. Give him the bloody guillotine, chop off his legs and arms, cut him in half and finally chop off his head
no that’s not good enough. I should round up the boys, give him the beating of his miserable, worthless life—” You’re sure Sirius would have gone on for longer if you didn’t jump at kissing him for calling you his girl for the second time that night. 
All thoughts of torturing the disgusting pig who dared play with your life were wiped from Sirius’ thoughts instantly. Now
all he can think of is how soft your lips are
how sweet and delicious you taste, and how he can easily kiss you all night long. 
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navi. | more sirius black
a/n : i'm dedicating this to a wonderful friend of mine @thebestofoneshots i just want to remind her that she deserves so much good for her big heart and endless kindness, and i hope she can find some comfort in this short imagine as a fellow motorcycle and Sirius Black lover. i promise you she's one of the kindness people you'll ever meet and I think she's in need of some extra loving right now so if you could show her some love and support by checking out her writing and leaving her a kind message, it would mean the world to me and her. I LOVE YOU LILLY!
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size0forhollywood · 2 months ago
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Taste of the Forbidden Fruit
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Content Warning: 21+, SMUT, NSFW, No Plot, oneshot, Caleb, ‘Taboo’ Romance.
A/N: Look
 I have a problem hahah. I ain’t a Caleb girly but I can’t help but feel with the latest story update that we’ll be seeing him again very soon. Also, I got this pic off Pinterest so credit to the OG artist! @/搉棫牛牛栥
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“Ah..Nngh..god..” your whispered moans fill the room, blissfully melding together with Caleb’s soft groans and grunts.
His mouth and tongue work up and down your neck, tasting your salty sweet skin.
“Shh, Pipsqueak
 you’ll wake Gramma
” His voice was strained as he was desperately fighting back the urge to say fuck it and pound into you like there was no tomorrow.
As much as you wanted him to fuck hard and fast, you know you couldn’t indulge those desires, couldn’t risk Josephine finding out. You know she would be disgusted with this relationship. After all, you and Caleb grew up together, she raised you two together like siblings. Honestly, all that did was further increase the attraction between you two.
You watched him grow into this incredible handsome man and your perverted feelings for him grew along with him. Now he was here, in your bed fucking you and lavishing you, returning that burning passion he has always felt for you too.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his lower back, forcing him to be closer to you.
“Ah.. Caleb.. I want more
” you whimpered into his ear.
Caleb shuddered. God he loved seeing you like this. He’s wanted this for as long as he can remember. Hearing you beg for him almost made him come undone right then and there. His restraint fraying at an alarming speed.
His hands went to your ass cheeks and gripped the plump flesh tightly. Lifting you up and tilting your hips. He started pistoning his thick cock faster and harder.
“F-fuck.. you’re gonna be the death of me
” He groaned into the crook of your neck.
Your hands fly up to his shoulders, your fingernails marking up his soft skin. Staking your claim on his body.
“Yes..yes..fuck yes
” This new angle he found was heaven, hitting your g-spot with every stroke.
Your head falls back into the pillows as your moans leave your lips like a prayer. The coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Threatening to snap any second.
Caleb bit down on your neck, sweat beading his forehead. He was really, desperately trying to hold back his release but the way your pussy walls were starting to flutter and clench his cock was making it an impossible mission.
“Fuck
” he groaned. “I.. need you to cum first..pipsqueak..”
Caleb suddenly pulled out, untangling your legs from around him. His big palms find your inner thighs and he spreads your legs wider. He takes a second to appreciate the sight of your well fucked hole before burying his face in your sweet cunt.
Your body responds pleasantly to him, back arching off the bed, grinding your cunt against his face as he feasts on you like a man who was stranded in the desert and found a water source.
“C-Caleb! Please! I need you inside me..”
Caleb responds by sucking on your clit, one of his hands holding your legs open makes its way to your dripping cunt and he starts to finger you. Two fingers, knuckle deep feeling your hot wet walls. Searching for the sweet spot that’ll make you scream.
“Not yet baby
” he swirls his tongue. “Not until you cum on my face.” And there he goes again.
His fingers and tongue pleasuring you until your body starts to tremble. Your fingers gripping the bed sheets until your knuckles turn white.
“Oh fuck oh fuck!” You grab a pillow and press it against your face. Trying to muffle the sounds of your moans.
You were close again. The coil on the precipice of snapping. Caleb finds your g-spot and stars burst behind your eyelids, your toes curl as an intense orgasm rips through you. You scream into your pillow, muffling the cries of pleasure.
Caleb laps up your release making sure no drop goes to waste. He could eat your sweet cream all fucking night if he had the chance. His cock was throbbing now, aching to be buried back inside your hot cunt.
He lifts his head up, his purple eyes darkened with lust. “Fuck you taste incredible.”
You collapse back onto the bed, your body still shuddering from the intense orgasm.
Not giving you any chance to recover he flips you onto your stomach and puts you on your knees.
“Fuck you’re so beautiful like this,” Caleb lines up the head of his cock to your drenched entrance.
He sheaths himself inside you to the hilt. Groaning as your pussy swallows each delicious inch of him. “God! You were made for me.” He gasps before starting to rut into you.
Your hands death grip the bed sheets and you bite your pillow to hide your cries of pleasure. Fuck he felt so deep behind you like this. Each thrust making the familiar ache in your lower belly build.
Why does something that can be seen as taboo feel so fucking right?! The way he makes you feel, perhaps you were made for him like this? To be fucked and loved by this man. Your childhood friend, your ‘big brother’. You never saw him as a brother though, no. Sisters don’t feel this way about their brothers.
“Ah..mmpf..Caleb!” The pillow swallows your sounds of ecstasy. The sound of your coupling echoes in the bedroom.
Caleb’s thrusting starts to lose its rhythm as he feels himself on the verge of release.
“God
 I’m gonna cum..” He groans through gritted teeth. Not wanting this moment to end. The feel of your warmth wrapped around him, clenching, sucking him in deeper. It’s all too much.
Suddenly he flips you back onto your back. He hooks your legs over his elbows and crashes his lips onto yours. Swallowing your loud moans as he fucks you deeper than before.
“D-don’t stop..” you moan against his lips.
“Fuccckk..!” Caleb’s resolve is almost at shattering point. He can feel you on the verge of another orgasm.
“Let’s cum together baby!” He angles his hips, finding your sweet spot and suddenly you’re lost in a daze of intense pleasure again. Your orgasm ripples through you, your pussy clamping down hard on his pistoning cock.
“Caleb!” You cry out.
The feel of your pussy clenching him tightly is Caleb’s undoing. He buries himself to the hilt as he cums deep inside you. Thick, hot spurts of his semen coat your insides and you love it. There’s so much of it, it’s leaking out of your pussy.
As you collapse back onto the mattress, spent and sated, he collapses on top of you. His body still shuddering from aftershocks of his intense orgasm.
You’re both out of breath, Caleb buries his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and the smell of your sex.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him close to you as you both linger in the afterglow of your combined orgasms.
“Welcome back Caleb
” you finally murmur after what feels like hours of cuddling.
Caleb chuckles and starts peppering kisses up your neck and jaw.
“Thanks Pipsqueak.” He gives you a soft lingering kiss on your lips, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth. When he finally pulls away, taking in a deep breath. He look into your eyes, his pupils blown out so much you can only see a sliver of purple.
You just know he’s already thinking about going for another round.
“I’m glad to be back.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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dixonsstinkysock · 2 months ago
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It’s Temporary
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AN: This was going to be a random blurb but I’m too into this and he’s such a dork. Guys don’t tell anyone but I kinda wanna write smut, I’m not going to because I’m scared but y’know.
(Heavily inspired by a bot on C.AI, pretty sure the user is @/zetali_09 so if you see this i love you.)
Warnings: Swearing, mention of an apartment blowing up
.suggestive???
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Set during Season 1, before the timeskip

The cold, Upper city, night air chilled you to the core. The dark streets only illuminated by the few street lights scattered here and there. You wrap your cloak around you a little tighter as you made your way to the meeting spot. Making a sharp turn down a dark alleyway, you narrowly miss a couple of enforcers doing their nightly rounds.
Leaning against the cool, damp, brick wall. Enjoying the noises of the city, letting time pass by as you wait for your companion. Around a half an hour later, you hear heavy footsteps and the soft click of the high-cost, well made shoes echoing throughout the alley. You recognized those steps, he saved up for a long time to purchase those shoes, no way could you forget them. You open your eyes, turning towards the culprit of the noise. “Took you long enough, thought I was gonna rot out here.” You smiled at the shadowed man, stepping into the moonlight.
“Sorry, had a few things to finish up with my work. Left later than I expected
”
You walk up to him, trapping him into one if your famous bear hugs. An unfamiliar scent wafts from him, its sweet
it’s expensive. Definitely not his signature cologne smell—no, something different. You both stay there for a moment, enjoying the new company. Everything seems to fade away when your with him, it’s like he’s the cure to your disease.
“Been a while since we last talked—“
“Yeah, I
” You pull back, looking Jayce in the eyes. “I’m sorry. There’s been alot going on.”
His hands come up to your face, gently caressing it. He’s always gentle with you, a contrast from the rough, dangerous streets you grew up in.
“Hey
What’s going on?” His voice is soft and smooth, with the occasional voice crack, it’s not fair. His looks already make him desirable, but hearing him talk to you with that tone? Drooling.
“It’s my siblings, they’ve been getting into more and more trouble.” You fully pull away from him, turning towards the lit up entrance of the alleyway. “It’s like Vi doesn’t even realize how bad things can really get.”
“Hey—“ He takes a step foward, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you to him. “I’m here. I’m here to help—with anything. We’ll figure this out okay?”
A bittersweet smile graces your lips, you close your hand over his placed on your shoulder.
“You don’t know the Undercity, Jayce. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help me on this one
”
The two of you stood there, unspeaking. You can practically hear the gears burning inside Jayce’s head. You can almost smell the smoke coming from them, It’s obvious he’s thinking of ways to try and help you and your family. After a moment, you rest your head onto his chest, defeated, and looking for comfort.
“I can’t let you risk you life for this. You have too much ahead of you.”
You feel his arms wrap around you, bringing you closer. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in your scent.
“There is nothing ahead of me without you.” You lock your arms around him, holding back a few tears. Jayce feels you taking fast, deep breaths, attempting to keep your composure. It’s all been alot, apparently your kid siblings were being nosy—blew up some guys apartment. Now every enforcer in Piltover is searching for them. You take a deep breath, leaning up straight to face him again.
“I won’t let you risk your life for me
risk your future—”
“I’m not some idiot throwing himself into danger for fun! I’m protecting someone I love.”
That. That catches you off guard. Yes, you two have been messing around every other night, cuddling after, speaking soft sweet words to each other
but love? He didn’t really love you did he? You’re from the Undercity. The scum of the scum. He’s from the top, he’s perfect. No way he actually means this
does he?
“I’m choosing to do this because I care about you, I care about your family. You aren’t alone in this, no matter how much you think you are.”
Time stops for what feels like hours, you gaze into his eyes, trying to find some kind of sign to tell you he isn’t being true. You can’t. His caramel eyes look gold from the street lights, determined and dead set on aiding you. You let your head fall onto his chest again, giving him your unspoken permission to help with your situation.
“I just realized I didn’t ask about how you’ve been.”
His arms tighten around your body, gently rocking you both back and forth. “Ha
” Jayce lets out a breathy chuckle, preparing himself to recount the most recent and life changing events. “It’s been different
Some guys blew up my apartment.”
You freeze. There’s no way they did that. It can’t be the same apartment right? How many apartments blow up in Piltover? Oh my god. My siblings blew up his fucking apartment. “Uh
” You can’t even form a sentence, still shocked at the new information. What are you going to tell him—
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah—are you okay? You’re fucking apartment blew up!” You pull back from him, facing him again. Your hands find their place on his waist, trying to ground yourself after what you were just told.
“My back’s still a little sore but I’m fine.”
“How much did you lose?” His mood darkened, eyes darting to the ground. “Alot.” You take a deep breath, This shouldn’t have happened. He is a good man, maybe a little crazy sometimes but—good. This whole thing is a mess. Jayce doesn’t know your sisters are the ones who blew up his apartment, you can’t go and get onto them for this because they don’t know you’re with him. You’re stuck, with no one to go to, maybe Vander but
he’d get upset that you’re up here with a topsider. Just so happens, he’s the same topsider your sisters were targeting.
This is fucking stupid.
After giving him your apologies, you realize it’s getting light. You should start heading back home, hopefully without Vander noticing you were gone.
“Jayce, It’s getting early. I gotta start heading back
”
“So soon..?” He smiles, he’s clearly up to something as he brings his hands up to your jaw. The sun is slowly rising, changing the sky into beautiful hues of orange and blue.
“Have to get back before Vander wakes up, I do not wanna hear that lecture.”
“Do you have to? Maybe you could
stay with me?”
“Stay
Topside. With you.”
“Yeah, I mean we could spend the day together. Go and do something
” He takes your hands into his own, engulfing them. You take a moment to think about his request. It’d be fun spending time with him, you’d be able to really enjoy his company. Not waiting for something or someone to come out of the shadows, trying to rob you or worse.
“Okay
What did you have in mind?” A smug look slowly plagues his face as he takes your hands into his, leading you out of the alley and in the direction of his temporary home.
“Trust me?”
You grip his hands tighter, letting him lure you into whatever devious plan he’s set up.
“Maybe
”
Two shadows danced against the stone road, slowly disappearing as the sun rose higher into the sky. One by one, doors open, carriages roll by, and the occasional stray kid runs in front of you two. None of that matters, not when his callused, warm hands are handling you so gently. When he looks at you like you’re his world
like he can’t live without you.
It definitely doesn’t matter when he pulls you into his hotel, hands roaming each others clothed figures as he closes the door behind you.
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Guys
Part 2?? What y’all think 😈
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 4 months ago
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bloody hands. l Joel Miller
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Summary:  he didn't expect to find you in such a state
Warnings:  angst, but with a lot of sad moments, guns, knife and blood, two dead bodies, allusion to rape, nervous breakdown
A/N: I had a certain scene in mind and I really wanted to create something around it. something like this came out. scribbles. but I hope you'll be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. đŸ–€ sorry for all the mistakes
and once I wrote that, the thought grew in me to give these two something more... and now i'm unsure what to do with it next. help?
short stories from life. [masterlist]
The sound of the shot echoed through the building and Joel felt a shiver run through his body. He sped up and quickly climbed the next stairs, then headed down the corridor where he could hear the sounds of scuffling and Ellie's screams. Fingers tightened around the handle of the rifle, he pushed the door with his shoe and for a moment he didn't know what was happening.
Ellie was sitting against the wall with terror in her eyes. The body of one of the men was lying on the floor, and the other...
"Shit!" Joel hissed, lowering the barrel of the rifle.
You were breathing heavily, trying to fill your lungs with oxygen. You were still holding the knife in your clenched, bloody hand, sitting astride the body of the other man. Thick blood flooded the floor beneath him, his clothes were soaked in it.
"Hey, it's me."
Terrified eyes found Joel's face, you tried to brush your hair away from your face, but you stained it even more with the man's blood. It seemed that you weren't hurt so Miller quickly looked towards the girl squeezed against the wall.
"Are you okay?"
Ellie nodded and stood up "Those pricks tried to..."
She didn't have to finish. Joel quickly noticed the mess your clothes were in, the unfastened belt buckle on your pants - he knew what could have happened and a shiver ran down his spine again.
"It's over." he choked out and held out his hand to help you up "Let's get out of here."
Despite the daze you were in, you stood up efficiently and quickly gathered your things. You all wanted to leave this cursed place as soon as possible and return to Jackson. A few days of travel separated you from your destination, but at that moment everything seemed to be even further away.
It was already getting dark outside when you managed to find an empty small house near a stream. Joel checked the place out before sinking into the dusty couch with relief. Every muscle in his body ached, and his stomach was increasingly demanding food.
Ellie's footsteps echoed silently across the floor as she visited empty rooms. Joel noticed you after a moment when you brought a bucket of water into the house.
"I want to wash this off myself." You said quietly, seeing his questioning look. Your hands and face were still smeared with dried blood.
"Do you need help? We will eat something soon." he said, but you just shook your head.
"I'm not hungry, thank you." and you quietly closed the bathroom door behind you.
This evening was different, he could clearly feel it. You joined them only after some time, still saying that you weren't hungry, you sat on the couch, pulling your legs up and wrapping yourself in an old blanket. There were no evening conversations between you and Ellie, although the girl tried to pull you in, you were strangely absent.
Joel saw it all, he knew you so well. You had walked together not only many miles, but also many dangerous situations. This time, however, everything was different, and that worried him.
He didn't know what had woken him up in the night and only after a short while did he realize that it was the splash of water and... crying. 
He looked around the dark room, Ellie was fast asleep on the couch, but your place was empty. Joel threw off the blanket and quietly made his way towards the bathroom, the door was ajar. 
The night was cloudless and the moonlight reflected off the once white tiles, dimly illuminating the interior. First he saw your clothes thrown somewhere on the floor, and after a moment...
"Sweet Jesus." he whispered, slipping inside and closing the door behind him.
You were sitting naked in a bathtub half filled with water. The water was freezing cold, because Joel could clearly see how you were shaking, but it could also have been intensified by the crying.
"What are you doing here, sweetie?" he whispered, crouching by the edge and placing his hand on your back, "Fuck, you're so cold. Get out of here."
Your arms were wrapped around your knees, your damp hair was sticking to your face, and you were still sobbing quietly.
"I can't wash it off, Joel..." you groaned, your throat hurting so much that you could barely say the next words, "My hands... I can still see it..."
He took your icy hands in his warm ones, "They're clean, look. How long have you been sitting here? You shouldn't
 Come on, I'll help you."
"But my hands..."
"Sweetie, everything's fine. You're fine. C'mon." He grabbed you carefully by the waist, noticing with despair how cold you were, you must have been sitting in the water for a long time.
He noticed an old towel on the floor and quickly wrapped it around you. Your body was shaking, but you didn't seem to feel it. All of this made Joel feel even more afraid for you. He didn't expect this, he didn't expect you to snap at such a moment. But maybe it awaits everyone sooner or later?
This was surprising to him. You were always tough, you didn't lose your cool quickly and Joel was sure that when you said "I've got your back." you always did it right. Now, however, he held in his arms such a fragile version of you that his heart broke with each of your quickened breaths.
This wasn't something you deserved, certainly not you. You grounded him, helped him not to go crazy. He probably never told you how important you were to him, how your presence soothed his heart and mind. How much he liked it when you fell asleep and your head fell lightly on his shoulder, how he felt more confident when you grabbed his hand. You always did it at the perfect moment, when fear began to take control of his body. Your fingers would intertwine tightly with his and then you would take control.
"You're shaking all over." he mumbled as he sat down on the floor with you, his hands rubbing your shoulders hard. "Why did you come here?"
Doe eyes found him, your eyelids were red from crying. "I couldn't sleep." you whispered. "I could still feel him on me. His breath, his hands, and then his blood... I was so scared."
"I know, I know..."
"I wasn't afraid for myself, but for Ellie." Joel swallowed hard. "I couldn't... She didn't deserve this. She shouldn't have seen this."
Strong hands grabbed your face tenderly. "You saved her. You did what you had to."
"I slaughtered them like pigs, Joel..." you groaned, your voice breaking. "What kind of person am I? I'm no different from them. I didn't expect something like this to be inside me... I'm scared, Joel."
He knew exactly what you were talking about. It was something he had been pushing out of his head for years, and in the meantime you had cracked. You were made from different, better clay.
"Listen to me." he finally spoke, his thumbs tenderly stroking your cheeks. "You're a good person, but sometimes you have to do bad things to save the ones you love, right? Don't blame yourself for this, you had no other choice. If it weren't for you, you'd both be dead by now." you closed your eyes as if his words were soothing you "We've been through so much together. I know what you're like, you're definitely not a bad person. You're good...and gentle...caring... and sensitive...understanding...patient..."
"Please..."
“I wish I could meet you in better times." he added quietly "I'd gladly take you to a cozy restaurant, or to the cinema to see some terrible movie."
You quietly burst out laughing, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. He wasn't lying.
Joel had long imagined how it all could have looked if nothing bad had happened, if your paths had crossed at a different moment and time. These dreams, however, were pushed far to the fringes of his mind, because they gave him nothing more than a sense of injustice and helplessness.
"I can't imagine you in a place like that." You said quietly.
"I definitely wouldn't take a gun there, you know." He snorted, and you smiled. "But everything else... I think I could surprise you."
"You think so?" His hands slid down, one of them now lying loosely on your thigh, stroking it lightly, the other brushing wet strands of hair away from your face. "I think I like the idea. It seems so...safe."
"I'll do anything to keep you safe. You know that, right?"
You nodded. "I guess I should get dressed. If Ellie woke up and found us like this..."
"Right, right." You both stood up from the floor, and you reached for your clothes. "If you need help..."
"Thank you, Joel. You've done a lot already."
A weak smile appeared on your face, but he knew it was costing you a lot. So he left, letting you get dressed in peace.
A strange feeling filled his heart the moment he lay back down, in his already cold spot. He felt a small spark of happiness and hope when he held you in his arms, but at the same time anger and sadness that you could only dream of such nice moments together. The world had taken everything you could have had together, and you could only dream of it on the cold tiles of a dirty bathroom in a house in the middle of nowhere. It was so unfair.
Quiet footsteps announced that you had returned to the room, and after a moment you laid down next to Joel.
"Feeling better?" he asked in a whisper, you nodded "If you need anything..."
"Can you hug me? Just for a moment, please..."
It wasn't a request, just a plea. Joel mumbled a quiet "C'mere." and after a while he felt your body next to his. He clung to your back, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist. But your hand found his again, your fingers intertwined and you brought it closer to your face, kissing the top of it.
"Thank you, Joel. For everything." You whispered.
And he buried his face in your hair, squeezing his eyes shut. He kissed your head and deep in his heart he regretted that this was all he could give you. And you deserved so much more.
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
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gguk-n · 19 days ago
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What? How? (Max Verstappen x Reader)
Based off this request. I had put up a poll to decide the driver with a part 1 and thought this would be part 2 but I think that's like the preview/introduction and this is the main part!
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Everyone grew up hearing about soulmate; from their family or friends or relatives. Most people looked forward to meeting their soulmate, some people wanted to defy fate and some people never got to meet their soulmate.
Max grew up believing that he wasn't deserving of love and thought he'd never meet his soulmate. But a small part of him hoped that, someone would come along and fall for him and be his person. He found himself dreaming of her. The mark on his wrist was a reminder of the soulmate he was yet to find. His sister had found her's and spoke in detail about what it was like to meet your soulmate. He would always end up talking to Victoria about the time she met her's and what it was like, something Max was embarrassed to admit.
In the time that Max had been at RedBull, he had never had issues with anyone. He did his best and gave the team the result he could. Him and his race engineer meshed well, bringing a lot of synergy to their collaboration until he got a new team mate, which some how also meant a new race engineer for said team mate. He saw Y/N for the first time at the start of his fourth year in Formula One. She was cheerful and bubbly and always wore a smile on her face. She spoke kindly to everyone and a part of Max would always gravitate towards her. He had silently hoped they would be friends since they were both perfectionist but it never happened. Y/N always kept to her work; she was assigned his team mate's garage.
It was in 2021, when Y/N got the bump up and became a race engineer for Sergio Perez, his new teammate. Max never knew he could argue with someone as much as he argued with Y/N. They were always at odds because somehow whatever she did was against him, it felt. The team could see daggers flying from across the hospitality at each race but let it go since they never did anything. Until those fights started escalating, from bickering to arguing to full on screaming matches in the hospitality, audible to anyone who could hear. Horner and Marko had tried to get them to resolve their issues but to no avail, it only made things worse.
Y/N thought she was a part of the soulmate less crew, "I'll register you with soulmatch" her mother told her. Soulmatch was an agency, a app or a website, which ever one you chose to help two soulmate less individuals get together and find companionship in each other. Her mother wanted her to start looking, Y/N couldn't careless since her job kept her busy and she was barely at home anyways. Y/N was a race engineer in Formula One; a job she worked tirelessly to achieve. It barely gave her any time to wonder where her soulmate was. She got to work with some of the most talented and smart people to make machinery that made the car go really fast. But now she was working with her driver, Sergio Perez to make sure the race went as smoothly as possible with the best result as possible; sometimes at the cost of the other driver. "Are you listening to me?" her mother's voice broke through her thoughts. "Yeah" she replied. "I'll let you know once you match with people" her mother stated before cutting the call.
Her parents were late bloomers themselves; having met each other in their late 20's and early 30's so she didn't understand the fuss her mother was making. She was in her prime and a soulmate would come along when he wanted to. Y/N travelled the world; if a soulmate existed, she would run into him eventually.
There were a lot of times you would wish someone was your soulmate and there were a lot of times you wished someone wasn't. For Y/N, it was Max Verstappen. She hated his guts; ever since she had become a race engineer, he had been a pain in the ass for as long as she could remember. He would start fights with her if she prioritised her driver, and honestly, who else would she prioritise. She had good strategies that would work in her driver's favour sometimes and he couldn't tolerate it. Starting fights and unnecessary arguments. The team was done with them, the paddock was done with them and the DTS crew always had so much fun.
At the start of 2022 season, the whole paddock and the world knew about Y/N and Max. The fans would laugh and joke about them being soulmates and the other drivers took the piss out of Max for having an engineer as an enemy. But, everyone knew about them. Everyone knew how much the pair hated each other and wouldn't even look at each other, if not to fight.
It was the Monaco weekend, the two of them had been at odds since FP1. Y/N tried to be calm and mature about it; she didn't want to cause issues for the team. Hence, she ignored any thing and everything he said. It was getting on his nerve; she was ignoring him and behaving extremely rudely to him. It all came to a head when the team finished P1 and P3 with Y/N's driver winning the race, street circuits were his thing and Y/N played to his advantage. You can already see the resentment and anger brewing as Max got out of the car. "Who does she think she is?" Max almost screamed at GP. "Calm down Max" GP tried to reason. But Max wasn't hearing anything.
During the post race interview, there were jabs being thrown but it was during On The Sofa; when Max said something, which he later realised he shouldn't have. But it was too late; Y/N was already there and a fight broke out. A lot of commotion, the media having a field day, Sergio and Carlos trying to get them to stop, their team trying to stop them and PR having a crisis. The crowd went silent as Y/N pulled her sleeve up to reveal her soulmate mark which matched Max's soulmate mark exactly; now visible due to the scuffle. A loud whisper broke out in the crowd, Y/N looking at him and then his mark as the pair tried to process what was happening. Over whelmed with emotions, Y/N stormed off, leaving the crowd but most of all her soulmate stunned.
Max walked out off the stage, shocked from the revelation. He found him self in his driver's room with no recollection of what had happened. He kept playing back to the moment when he saw Y/N's mark and wondered if things would be different. He wondered if she hated him because he was her soulmate. He wondered what it would be like to liked by his soulmate since the one he got hated his guts.
Y/N was reeling from the revelation; the man who was supposed to be her soulmate was also the man she hated the most, or did she dislike him? All of these thoughts and emotions swirled inside her as she wondered what just happened and how she had gone this long before finding out. Did he know? Did he hate her because he knew? What was going on and what was she supposed to do? She felt her world crash and her phone wouldn't stop ringing. She looked at the caller and it was her mum. "Congratulations darling" she bellowed. Y/N was confused, "I saw you found your soulmate" her mum said when she got no reply. "How did you find out?" she asked. "It's on the news, sweetheart" her mother stated. While Y/N was still reeling from the revelation, F1's social media accounts had already posted about the two sworn enemies actually being soulmates and how it was straight out of a fairytale. Y/N wanted to disappear. Why was this happening now? she wondered, exhausted from the events of the day.
Max was informed by his father that F1 had posted about the moment when Max and Y/N realised they were soulmates. Max was exasperated. He ran a hand through his hair, ready to rip a new one into the admin. As soon as he opened the door he found Y/N standing there. "Did you see?" she asked. Max just nodded shocked to see her. Y/N made her way into the room, trying to find a place to sit when Max gestured towards the sofa. Y/N sat down, "It's an invasion of privacy" she stated. Before Max could say anything, Horner burst into the room. "So happy to find the lovely pair" he bellowed and hugged Max. "You two will make the best couple" he smiled, clapping his hands. Y/N tried to get up to protest, "I've already asked the PR team to start on the media day and social media stuff. You two have to post and we'll start making new content" he stated. "No" Y/N objected. "I'm the one who pays your bills" Horner said before he turned around. "The PR team will email you two the schedule soon" he said exiting the room. Y/N's shoulder's slumped as she walked towards the door. "See you around" Max's voice came out, weakly.
The PR team had decided to make the two appear in pictures and tiktok challenges together, to show them being lovey dovey. The two of them treated it like a task, they would show up, film it and leave. Max could feel his heart ache, hoping Y/N would look at him with anything but disdain.
Y/N found herself questioning herself, if she even hated Max. She found herself staring at him during debriefs and interviews. She found herself learning his driving style. Max was going to win his second championship too and RedBull had planned for a huge spectacle. When Max won Suzuka; he got out of the car, happy even elated and ran to his team and GP. Y/N was stood there by RedBull's plan. Max hugged her first, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her neck. Max felt tears prickle his eyes, he hadn't hugged her ever; her arms wrapped around him. When he pulled away, he saw tears in her eyes. "I like you Max. I'm so proud of you" she said. Max was shocked, this wasn't in the plan. "What?" he asked. "I like you Max Emilian Verstappen" she stated with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I...I like you too" he stated. "Let's talk after" he said pecking her cheek before being whisked away by their team.
After all the celebration, Max and Y/N were finally able to sit down and talk about the other day. "When?" Max asked. "I guess watching you" she muttered. "You?" she asked. "I don't think I ever didn't like you" Max stated. "I thought you hated me?" Y/N asked. "I didn't. I just thought you hated me" he replied, sheepishly. Y/N broke into a laugh. "We're so dumb" she continued laughing.
As time went on, the two of them grew closer with time. Max was able to stop RedBull from capitalising on their relationship. Y/N was still his team mate's Engineer and they still fought but Max would always kiss her to make everything better.
After the dominance in 2023, 2024 was tough on Max and Y/N too. They found them selves at an odd with the team, never themselves. Y/N would always reassure Max that he could do it, a fourth title was in his cards. "Schat, you are too optimistic" Max mumbled while cuddling her. "I'm realistic. I know Max Verstappen" she said. "Do you?" he smirked. She hummed tracing her fingers across his bare torso up to his chest, cupping his cheeks. "I'll marry you the day you win your fourth title" she said pressing their lips together. "No take backs" Max proposed pulling her on top of him. "Aren't you supposed to propose?" she giggled. "You wear the pants in this relationship" he said kissing her again.
As if Max got all the motivation he needed, he won his fourth title in Vegas. After the emotional team radio, "Y/N I hope you bought your dress because I'm marrying you in the next 2 hours" Y/N found herself smiling; there was chaos in the garage, their families were staring at her. "I told him I'd marry him the day he won his fourth title" she shrugged. Horner and Marko were trying to process the situation. But as soon as Max was done with all the formalities, Max staggered towards Y/N. "Never thought I'd marry you drunk" she laughed. "I'd marry you any way" he giggled.
They said their vows at a chapel in Las Vegas in front of their families and the other drivers. Y/N's parents were crying watching their daughter. Some how Max had planned it all, he had their family present, he flew her friends out; it was madness but in the best way possible.
At the end of the night, the two of them lay next to each other in their honeymoon suite. "I can't believe we got married in Vegas" Y/N said looking at Max. "I can't believe I married my enemy" he laughed. Y/N hit his chest playfully. "I love you Y/N" Max said now facing her. "I love you too Maxie" she replied. "You're stuck with me" he stated. "I've been stuck with you since I joined the team" she laughed.
Maybe the fact that your soulmate used to be your enemy doesn't seem so bad. Maybe enemies to lovers wasn't just reserved for YA novels. Maybe Y/N was happy, Max was her soulmate.
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mionemymind · 9 months ago
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Chapter 1: Second to You
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My Rival Series
Summary: “I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained. 
But how could she hate the girl that always took #1 in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be #2 for?
Or the time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.
A/n: Gif credits to @aftertheglitterfades
Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing
Word Count: 4.1k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
One Month - Spring Semester
“Please be a hundred - please be a hundred.” The brown eyed girl silently pleaded under her breath. Her hands were clenched together, easily covering her mouth. She couldn’t, actually wouldn’t, give her the satisfaction of seeing her nervous. 
With her dark brown hair, quick green eyes, and pretentious smile, Wanda Maximoff already had a lot going for her, something Y/n could easily list out. ‘So god forbid, please humble her for one moment’ Y/n thought to herself. 
Trying her best to not seem so obsessed, Y/n carefully studied Wanda’s reaction. While the rest of the class seemed upset over their grades, seeing Wanda’s smile among the crowd of frowns ticked something inside Y/n. ‘Oh please, not another 100.’ But there went that fucking cocky smile, one that brought Wanda’s dimples out, and Y/n knew the answer. 
Looking back at Professor Hathaway, the older woman gently smiled at Y/n as she handed her test backwards, careful to not expose her grade. Once she passed, Y/n slowly flipped it over, eyes squinted as if it would help lessen the blow. 
‘Oh god - a 99.’ Y/n tried to steel herself from any reaction. She knew Wanda would be looking at her like a hawk. Taking a peak past the paper, Y/n could easily spot those green eyes anywhere in a crowd. And just as Y/n expected, Wanda was looking. 
“Okay class, this week's test was better. We currently have a class average of 65. There were two outliers that have caused the average to bump up. For those that need help for next week, please feel free to reach out to see where we can improve. No homework due but please try to review the remarks I’ve made.” 
Everyone was quick to start packing up, especially those that barely scored a passing D. But for Y/n, she packed quickly to avoid Wanda. Hearing Wanda talk about another perfect score would only rile her up and considering she still had to study for the managerial accounting test, talking to Wanda was the last thing she wanted.
But Y/n never got what she wanted. When a classmate accidentally bumped into her backpack, causing the contents to spill, Y/n couldn’t help me internally curse at her luck. “I’m really sorry about that Y/n!” 
Y/n didn’t dare focus on the feeling of Wanda getting closer, she didn’t even need to see to know she was only a meter away. “It’s okay Katie. Just be careful next time.” The blonde meekly smiled as she walked off to her next lecture, leaving Y/n behind to pick her stuff up. 
Just as the final book was stuffed into her bag, Y/n rose up from the ground, ready to grab her test, but Wanda was quicker. Holding back her distaste, Y/n watched as Wanda’s smug smile grew seeing the 99 plastered right at the corner. 
“Better luck next time, Y/l/n,” Wanda proudly stated as she held up the perfect grade written on her test. Holding back her profanities, Y/n snatched her test and shoved it at the bottom of her backpack. “And messing up a simple year for Renoir’s paintings, my my, this is easy at this point.” 
Y/n slung her backpack and started to walk out of the lecture hall. Usually, no response and the sight of someone leaving would give a normal person the idea that they don’t want to talk. But Wanda wasn’t normal by any means. 
She walked at a similar fast pace beside Y/n, enjoying the silent treatment she was receiving. “Not gonna talk? Ya know, I could help you study in case you need it.” 
Y/n scoffed as they exited the humanities building. ‘The nerve.’ Y/n thought. 
It was a nice spring at Evergreen University. The weather was at a perfect 75 degrees. People were out on the lawn, enjoying themselves, hanging out with friends, having picnics, overall having a great time. But none of that was something Y/n hardly got to experience nowadays. 
For the majority of the first month of the spring semester, Y/n had either been stuck at her dorm, the library, or some other student’s dorm, helping them study. The luxury of having fun was something Y/n could hardly afford. Not when Wanda Maximoff was a constant reminder of your failure to beat her. 
“99 is still good, Maximoff, in case you forgot.” They passed by a couple of people that knew Wanda, but that didn’t deter the brunette at all. She waved at them with her perfect smile which irritated Y/n even more. 
“She speaks! Didn’t know you were settling for second place now. You must’ve lost your confidence. Afraid you can’t beat me?” Y/n grumbled something that Wanda couldn’t hear. 
With Y/n’s dorm hall getting closer, the brown eyed girl quickened her pace, hoping that Wanda would stop. “More like I don’t want to humble you. Princess might get hurt if I actually try my best.” 
Wanda feigned hurt, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. “Going for the ego jab? What will I ever do?” Wanda laughed, a laugh that came from her chest, one that was wholehearted, and god did Y/n hate it. “Takes more than that to hurt me.” 
Stopping right before the entrance, Y/n halted infront of Wanda, the two almost colliding.
“Oh yeah? Then-” 
“Y/n, can you help me with accounting?” Y/n turned around to her savior. It was one of her classmates from her managerial class. Her name was Holly. 
“Sure thing.” Unbeknownst to Y/n, Wanda rolled her eyes at the pathetic excuse. Holly was a smart girl, one that hardly needed to study. This was all just a lame excuse to hang out with Y/n, something Wanda easily saw through. 
Adjusting her backpack, Y/n walked towards Holly, holding the door open. Looking back at Wanda with a frown, Y/n remarked, “Next time, I won’t go easy.” 
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Midway - Spring Semester
“Are you going to come with me to the party?” It was a Saturday night at Evergreen University. Parties were a typical thing especially since the campus had a large selection of greek life. 
However, today was not a typical Saturday. Midterms were finally over and the majority of campus was out for the night, trying to enjoy a little stress reliever. 
“Can’t Natty. I gotta study.” Y/n said hunched over a book. While Y/n did receive well above passing grades, none of them could compete with Wanda’s. It’s like no matter how much Y/n studied, there was always one small detail that would prevent her from being perfect.
“You’re always studying. Can’t you give me at least one night away from all of this.” Natasha looked around the room, Y/n’s side was filled to the brim with various books, journals, and papers. It was an academic mess. 
“You know I can’t.” Natasha sighed at Y/n’s response. She walked towards her bed, giving Y/n a tight hug. Having been roommates since freshman year, Natasha knew how Y/n was when it came to her academics. 
“At least I have senior year to try.” Y/n laughed, knowing that she’d never really go to a party. She had nothing against them, but the idea of pretending like you’re having fun was exhausting for her. 
“Text or call me if you need me to pick you up, okay? I’ll have my ringer on the highest volume.” Natasha grabbed her phone and keys, blowing a fake kiss to Y/n. 
“Thanks love. Stay up till 1:00 am for me? If I don’t text you by then, go to sleep. I’ll have a ride.” Y/n gave a thumbs up as Natasha left. 
Looking back at the time, it was only 10:00 pm. The dorms hardly muffled the loud music playing on the floor above. And knowing the RA on the floor, they’d simply dismiss it until 2:00 am. 
Shaking her head, Y/n grabbed the nearest bag and stuffed the essentials she needed. A night trip to the library wasn’t going to hurt. 
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“Accounting can literally go fuck themselves,” Y/n uttered. She was currently tucked away in a far corner on the fourth level of the library. This place hardly had any students around and with midterms being over, not a single soul was in the library at this time, well besides Y/n. 
“I need a break.” Pushing the chair back, Y/n stretched her legs and arms out, releasing out a weird primal groan in the process. Tapping her phone screen, it was a quarter past twelve. Her body was stiff and desperately needed a walk. 
“How the hell am I so stiff?” Y/n cracked her neck, hands, and knuckles, a very bad habit she developed at a young age. 
Grabbing her wallet, Y/n walked away from her spot and traversed through the long aisles of books. She eyed a couple of interesting subjects on the way to the vending machine, saving them in her head the next time she needed a new book to read. 
It didn’t take long before she spotted the bright fluorescent machine. Eying the choices, there wasn’t much. To play it safe, she got a Pepsi and quickly started to drink it. 
‘I really need to start drinking more water.’ The thoughts on being healthy always came around this time, among other things. So to distract herself more, Y/n walked around the floor, hoping to do some exploring. 
She was hardly a couple of meters away when Y/n saw her. Asleep on top of her books and notes, mouth slightly parted, and slightly shivering was Wanda Maximoff. The sight caused Y/n’s breathing to hitch. The grip on the bottle tightened, feeling already irritated and Wanda hadn’t even said a word. 
Looking around for anyone nearby, Y/n grumbled knowing that no one else would be studying on a weekend this late at night, but of course the only two people on the campus that would be are herself and Wanda. 
Y/n wanted to leave, everything from her mind and body told her to walk away and act like you didn’t see her. But how could Y/n ignore the way Wanda’s body shivered from being under the a/c? How could she ignore the way her lips twitched from reacting to a dream? How could Y/n ever ignore her? 
Betraying all logic, Y/n walked to Wanda’s table. Although she wanted to wake her up, which would’ve been the nice thing to do, the large part of Y/n didn’t want Wanda to know she could be kind to her. 
They’ve been at this stupid ‘race’ or ‘competition’ since freshman year ever since they took the intro to biology together. A lot of the people in the class had struggled, especially those that were not pursuing a STEM major. So when the professor made a light comment that Wanda was always first place in the class and Y/n was second, something inside them changed. 
Maybe it was the way Y/n noticed how much Wanda thrived under praise or how she loved answering the professor’s questions. None of the characteristics really bothered Y/n at all and she certainly didn’t care to be second. But then more exams came and Wanda was always first and Y/n was always second. 
Next came the light taunting from her friends, saying Wanda has never been beaten academically that it started to rub you the wrong way. And then came the fateful day, where Wanda had come to Y/n after class ended and asked, “Do you want help with biology?” 
The question was supposed to be harmless, but it was the fact that Y/n was around with her friends who then started to chuckle and taunt the question. It felt embarrassing especially since she didn’t even suck at the subject. 
So with a sore ego and hurt pride, Y/n mumbled a no and walked away as her friends howled even more. Ever since then, the two have been at it. And by the looks of it, it was not going to stop. 
‘Just walk away and let her deal with it.’ The thoughts in her head were convincing. Wanda would eventually wake up and be fine. She would get up, go back to her dorm, and probably act like nothing happened. 
Turning back around, Y/n almost walked away but her heart couldn’t. Sleeping alone in this lonely part of the library was not something Y/n wanted for Wanda. Looking around the table, Y/n spotted Wanda’s phone past all the humanities notes. 
Grabbing it, Y/n was surprised to find that there was no passcode. ‘Maximoff, you really need to change that.’ 
Looking through her contacts, Y/n finally was able to find Pietro. Sending a quick ‘pick me up from the fourth floor of the library’ felt harmless. Especially since it sounded like something she would say. 
Placing the phone back in its original spot, Y/n felt satisfied enough to walk away. But Wanda just had to whimper in her sleep, still shivering from the cold. 
Y/n would never admit it outloud but she would have cursed Evergreen University for making their libraries so cold. Taking off her flannel, Y/n shook her head as she placed it on top of Wanda. She had plenty more in the closet, so losing one was not going to hurt. 
‘I fucking hate her.’ Y/n convinced herself as she finally walked away from Wanda. The brown eyed girl got back to her table. It was useless to continue to study. Wanda was all she could think about right now. 
Sighing, Y/n grabbed her phone. It was getting close to 12:30 and there was still no text from Natasha. Packing her stuff up, Y/n walked out the library at a slow place. Within a block away from the library, Pietro had jogged past Y/n, not even recognizing the girl with how dim the streetlights were. 
No one else witnessed this, and once again Y/n would never admit it, but she did smile knowing Wanda was going to be okay.
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Pietro could hardly make his way through the library. If we’re being honest, he kind of forgot that this library was 24/7. After scrounging through the fourth floor, he finally found Wanda asleep at her study table.
Muttering curses under his breath, he walked to her, ignoring the flannel that covered her. ‘I didn't even take that long.’ He thought to himself. Pietro had only taken around 10-15 minutes to get to her. How did she manage to fall asleep? 
“Sestra.” Wanda woke up from the constant tugging on her shoulder. Grumbling a few incoherent words, she sat up, barely awake. Yawning into her hand, Pietro shook his head at the sight of Wanda. “You fell asleep studying, again?” 
Wanda shrugged her shoulders, too tired to even respond. “Let's get you back to your dorm.” 
As Pietro helped Wanda pack her stuff up, the brunette finally noticed the flannel on her shoulders. She snaked her arms through it, enjoying the warmth and comfort it provided. 
Too tired to think, Wanda followed Pietro out of the library and to her dorm hall. It didn’t take long for them to arrive. Thankfully, Wanda didn’t have a roommate, perks of having rich parents. 
Pietro had muttered a goodbye as he dropped Wanda’s bag near her desk. He flipped the lights off and closed the door. 
Wanda easily slipped under the covers, flannel still on. The cologne was distinct, something her body already knew who it belonged to. But having been too tired to think, Wanda simply thought it was Pietro’s flannel. 
But had she actually paid attention, she would’ve noticed the only person using this cologne was Y/n. Had she been paying attention, she would’ve noticed how much her body enjoyed having the flannel on. Had she been paying any attention, she would have noticed that the flannel was slightly too small to fit on Pietro. 
And if Wanda had a bit more energy, she would have noticed that her subconscious didn’t fight the feeling of Y/n. 
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Almost a week has gone by since the library situation. Y/n was certain that Wanda had figured out her stunt. I mean the flannel had her initials written on the underside of the tag. But when Wanda walked into class, flannel surprisingly on, it shocked Y/n. 
‘Does she seriously not know?’ During the whole lecture, Y/n could not focus. All her undivided attention was on Wanda Maximoff. The way the flannel hung off her shoulders or the way she would purposely cover her hands with the sleeves. 
Every single detail was not left unnoticed. And as class ended, Wanda came over with her usual smug self. She made a comment or two, but Y/n hadn’t heard a single thing. Not when her flannel was still being worn by Wanda Maximoff. 
And by the looks of it, Wanda didn’t know. It literally took Natasha shoving Y/n for the brown eyed girl to even respond. “See ya, Maximoff.”
Y/n had panicked and blanked hard. She left in such a hurry that even Wanda was confused. 
“What’s up with her?” Wanda asked Natasha, but even she didn’t know. 
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“Okay, this has been like the 10th time you’ve looked at her in this past conversation. What’s up with you?” If Y/n could, she would leave the country at the moment. Feeling so embarrassed, Y/n thought about denying Natasha’s comment, but god she was being so obvious about it. 
“I-,” Y/n sighed with her head in her hands. “I did something nice to someone I usually don’t do anything for.” 
Natasha hummed as she ate her banana. She carefully looked back and noticed Wanda talking with some of her friends out on the lawn. They were too far away to even notice the pair, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. 
“So you were nice to Maximoff? What’s the big deal?” It irritated Y/n that Natasha could be so nonchalant about everything. Couldn’t she clearly see why it was a big deal? 
“I guess
” Y/n looked over at Wanda once more. Her smile was radiant even if she was a little far away. And the way her body tilts back every time she laughs, Y/n could have sworn that she could hear it from her spot. Or maybe it was the way her mind remembered everything about Wanda. 
“It just made me think what if we were actually friends rather than
this.” Natasha could easily see this was a big deal to Y/n. However, their whole situation was rather odd. The banter and competition was just a children's game to her. No harm really came out of it. 
“Well I think there’s still time to make up. Why don’t you go over there and just try to talk to her?” Y/n scoffed at Natasha’s absurdity. 
“Yeah - over my dead body.” 
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“We’re partners.” Y/n wasn’t dead but it certainly almost felt like she was as she choked on Wanda’s comment. Quickly gaining the attention of other classmates, Y/n waved them off and regained her composure. She wiped the water from her lips and stared at the piece of paper that Wanda shoved in her face. 
Team 7 - Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff
“I told the professor that you and I could easily do this project alone, but he wasn’t having it. Apparently we need to improve our teamwork skills.” Y/n looked up and easily saw how displeased Wanda was. Using all her acting skills, Y/n did the same. 
Before Y/n could say anything, Wanda commented, “Just come over to my dorm after math club. It’s at Bourbon Hall. Dorm 321.” And just like that, Y/n easily forgot all about her kindness as Wanda walked away. 
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The day was almost over. All Y/n had to do was enjoy another meeting at math club, be civil with Wanda, and then go to sleep. Although she didn’t necessarily want to do it in that order, duty called. 
Y/n was about to enter the room for math club until Lily stumbled in front of her with urgent eyes. “Hey Y/n, Dean Holloway wants to see you.”
“Do you know why?” The Dean never had random meetings with students. Generally, students would pop up to him with issues. Not the other way around.
Lily shook her head no with a small frown. “Sorry, he didn’t say.” Looking over the math club, Y/n could see that Wanda had already arrived. There was never an instance where Y/n wasn’t at a meeting, but knowing Wanda, she could handle it like a pro. 
“Okay, can you tell Wanda that I’ll be late and to start off without me?” Y/n adjusted her backpack.
“Sure thing, I’ll let her know.” Y/n gave Lily a small smile before walking away. 
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Their banter was supposed to be a children's game, simple, harmless. Nothing was supposed to come out of it. But the look in Y/n’s eyes told a different story. Her thoughts flooded with insecurities as the conversation she had with the Dean replayed. 
“Thank you for coming at such short notice Y/n. I wanted to see you before your current meeting with math club.”
Y/n hadn’t gone back to attend math club. It meant seeing Wanda, the very last person she wanted to see at all. She knew that the brunette would already be pissed at her being late, but it was better to avoid that conversation entirely. 
“I’m going to cut to the chase since you’re a very busy student. By the board, new requirements have been added to your scholarship effective immediately.”
“What are they?” There was no letter or notice coming from the school about her scholarship so this must have been a very recent decision. The Dean was unable to look Y/n in the eye as he recalled the meeting. He looked stiff and strained, something that was easy to notice. 
“For the upcoming math club state competition, the school is requiring that you and your group must achieve first place. There is no tolerance for anything less than that.”
Y/n could remember the silence being deafening. She didn’t know what to say. The whole reason she was even at Evergreen University was due to her full ride. And for the board to randomly put that on the line felt so targeted. 
Y/n tried to beg for an explanation as to why the board decided this. Wasn’t she a great enough student? Regardless, Dean Holloway was useless. He couldn’t give her a single reason as to why they decided to implement this. Essentially making Y/n deal with it herself. 
For a minute, Y/n allowed herself to dream about first place. It felt plausible, but as her phone buzzed in her bed, reality came back. Right on the screen it said Wanda Maximoff. Not wanting to speak, Y/n let the phone ring until it hit voicemail. Before she could have her moment of peace, a harsh set of knocks were at her door. 
Figuring it was Natasha forgetting her key again, Y/n slowly got up. “Coming - coming.” Not bothering to check the peephole, Y/n opened the door, her eyes landed on her.
The girl who knew every answer to every question. The girl who hasn’t left Y/n’s mind since freshman year. The girl who was the reason she was second. 
“Not going to the meeting is one thing, but ditching our plans is another.” Wanda passed Y/n up, allowing herself to enter without permission. She sat down at Y/n’s desk, immediately spouting out ideas about their project. 
But as Y/n stared at Wanda, she couldn’t help but think, ‘You’re the reason I will never be first.’ 
And that made it real. It was no longer a children’s game. This was a competition. And Wanda Maximoff was going to have to lose. 
Chapter 2
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neotyty · 5 months ago
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oral fixation ËšË–đ“ąÖŽà»‹đŸŠąËš | yang jeongin oneshot
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WARNINGS !! : smut in like the first few seconds, dom! jeongin, not a lot of use of y/n, fempov, jeongin has an oral fixation clearly, y/n treats jeongin like a baby and he gets fed up, not proofread don't shoot me, got lazy at the end, degrading/rude jeongin ??? idk anymore, slightly shitty diologue bc i'm better at writing the atmosphere than what ppl say
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It was supposed to be a joke, or at least that's what you thought it was. Your best friend, Jeongin, had been close to you ever since kindergarten. You would help him with pretty much everything due to the fact that he was 3 years younger than you, even if it wasn't a big age gap in his eyes. You treated him like a baby. Your baby.
Jeongin, on the other hand, grew to absolutely despise being treated like a child. Any time the two of you were together, he would do anything to show you he was grown up now-- purposefully touching your waist or "playfully" pulling you into his lap, he needed to show you who he really was, not some kid you had to protect.
He would often come to your place, not bothering to text prior or set specific dates, it was just natural.
So when he plopped down next to you on your bed completely uninvited, you didn't mind, your head lying on his solid chest for a change as you attempted to match his breathing with yours. You completely missed the way his eyes darted to your lips, just imagining how well they would wrap around his fingers as you focused on the meaningless video playing on your phone.
"Look at me." His voice was monotone, your eyebrows furrowing as he spoke but glanced up at him nonetheless. He took his time soaking in your features, to your freckled cheeks down to your soft and slightly uneven lips, grinning to himself as a hand came up to caress your cheek.
"Jeong, what are you doing?" You questioned with a small chuckle, a confused expression on your face watching his thumb trace your lower lip, pressing down on it lightly and not enough to cause any pain.
"You need something? I can whip something up real fast, just give me a second-"
His thumb quickly shoved past your lips, watching with narrowed eyes as you mumbled against him, cheeks growing a deep red at his confidence.
"Fuck, y/n. I can make my own goddamn food," He paused, letting his thumb roam around your tongue-- just like he imagined. "I don't need you to pretend like you're my big sister just to hide that you're a slut, alright?" Jeongin's gaze never left those glossy lips of yours, noting how your pupils dilated with each word he spoke.
"So sit here, and take it."
With that, he added another finger, observing the saliva dripping down your chin. It was sinful. He shouldn't be enjoying this, he shouldn't enjoy watching his best friend struggle to take his fingers down her warm throat, but he did. He lived for it.
The soft whimper that escaped your mouth was enough to send him into a spiral, letting out a low groan as his free hand reached for your hair. "I need to taste you. Let me taste you, baby." He whispered lowly, pulling you close just for you to feel the growing tent in his pants.
You nodded shakily, ignoring how you looked like a complete mess with his large fingers shoved down you throat and drool seeping through the corners of your mouth.
"That's a good girl." A smirk corrupted his face, your eyes ones of disappointment as he pulled out of you-- but quickly replaced his digits with a kiss, his tongue pushing against yours.
He was quick to flip you on your back, not breaking the kiss as his hands fumbled for your hips-- moaning against your lips after feeling the obvious wet spot he had caused.
"I could stare at you all fucking day,"
He pulled back only to rip your panties down your thighs, gently shoving your legs apart. He couldn't miss the way your hands came up to your face at his perverted comments, a coy smile appearing on his mouth.
"Don't hide from me baby, let me see all of you," A rough hand came up to grab your wrists, keeping them held in one hand as he buried his face deep inside your cunt, making mental notes of how you moaned and cried for him.
"Ah- Fuck! Jeongin, please.." You didn't know what you were begging for, to be entirely honest, you were so fucked out you could barely think.
He hummed against you, lapping at your folds as his tongue circled your clit-- making your thighs shake from the stimulation.
It wouldn't take long for your release, chest heaving and cheeks red as he gave your inner thigh a harsh smack, letting you know to be still. "You wanna come for me?" He mumbled, inserting a finger inside your hole, feeling you clench around him as he sucked on your clit.
Your eyes shut tightly, letting out the most shameful sound on earth as you came to your high.
The only sound was your heavy breathing, which didn't last long as Jeongin went in for another kiss. This one was softer and full of apologies, slowly moving down to your neck.
"Get the hell off me, Yang Jeongin, you're such an ass." You attempted to suppress your laughs, pushing him away from you with a weak grunt.
"And stop being such a pervert!" Your hand gently striked his shoulder, unable to hide the growing pout on your face.
"You should've told me to stop treating you like a kid instead of shoving your fingers down my goddamn throat." Jeongin watched with his head propped up on his hand, licking your juices off his fingers with a sly smirk.
"Oh come on, where's the fun in that when I can just fuck you to your senses?"
Well, he wasn't entirely wrong..
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user211201 · 4 months ago
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Modulated
--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---
“I ain’t no motherfuckin’ redneck, you assholes! Don’t you fucking get it? I’ll never be ok with you being here and disrespecting our gay spaces!” I had shrieked and screamed, and I was being sassy as fuck. But they had darted me, so it was too late for me already. I had been one of the hottest little twinks in Colombia back then. I had such a tight little body, I was non-binary, and I was supportive of my local drag scene. I was absolutely into resisting these fucking fascists and their goddamn bullshit lifestyles, which I couldn’t stand.
That’s how I thought of it all back then, anyhow.
Man, that dart though, it had done its dirty work. I was writhing on the floor of the club, so I didn’t even get to witness the way it transformed me as I went into spasms. It was almost like having a seizure, but I could feel the muscle growing on me, and I could hear my shrieks and wails shift in pitch as I grew on into this whole new, far more masculine body.
I was getting to be built like a brick shithouse really fucking fast, and was taking on more of a mature look. Everywhere I was getting more muscle. I was splitting the seams of my jeans, and my underwear, and felt my back pressing up and splitting my tight pink t-shirt.
When I finally was able to sit up, I was in a daze. I had rendered my clothes asunder. I had bristles of hair all over my face, and the har on my head had grown longer, too, sort of flopping in my eyes. I was a mess.
And then the headache came. I was clutching the sides of my head and moaning, almost screaming in pain out loud, as my twinkish mind collapsed and got replaced by a growing part of me I didn’t even know existed. That part, my friends, is the motherfucking, take-charge redneck stud I am today.
My friends helped me get out of there, and I was still in transition. It takes a good seventy-two hours at least until you can fully collapse one of those weak-ass brains like the one I had before and until a more dominant, superior personality takes over like the one I was starting to get.
So yeah, like I said, I was a mess, and when my friends got me back to one of their apartments, I was still sporadically ranting about how dare those fascists do this to me, they’d never win, this was fucking awful. But as I heard myself talk, there was a growing part of me that was observing myself and thinking “so what? You sound like a raving lunatic. Look at this body! Damn, boy, just look at that muscle!”
Sleeping on it, man, that twink brain of mine must have collapsed even further. I woke up and I just wanted coffee with a splash of alcohol in it, so that’s what I got. Then I added two splashed. I had already stripped out of my shredded pink t-shirt, and my friends had some loose boxers that fit me, but I was just this naked, muscular stud in awe of his own body and trying to come to terms with who I was now.
I was seeing my friends with new eyes, too. They seemed anxious to me, weak, full of nervous, overly feminine motions, jittery, immature, skittish and mostly just kind of fucking annoying. “Those are your friends,” I’d remind myself. “This isn’t you who’s thinking this.”
But that growing part of me was thinking “This is you. This is all you, stud. You’re so much better than them. They don’t even know you’re thinking this, and if they only knew, they’d probably be terrified.” That thought made me want to laugh out loud, so I did.
“What are you laughing at?” one of them asked.
“Oh, nothing man, nothing,” I said, looking away and scratching my head. “These are your friends,” I told myself again, but I didn’t really seem to believe what I was trying to tell myself that morning. “So what if they’re your fucking friends,” my new mind was saying. “They’re fucking losers, man. Don’t let them drag you down. You ought to just get out of here.”
That morning, I was feeling just hornier and altogether more fucked up than I’d ever been. I was thinking, nah, this can’t be the new me. I’m no motherfucking redneck. I don’t think like them. But already I was feeling excited, having this body, having these different feelings, realising that I didn’t feel like such an evil guy like this, not like I thought I would, anyhow. All I wanted to do at that point in time, I felt like, was get the hell away from these people. I didn’t know to where. I borrowed some shoes and a t-shirt that was so tight it hurt, pleading that I had to get back to my apartment. It felt like the shoes would split, and the shirt was riding up on my belly, as I trotted back to my place.
I didn’t know what I was doing or what I was gonna do. When I got home, I felt thirsty, just wanting to drink a little, feeling like that would make this feel better, even though I told myself no, you have to compose yourself, you have to call people, you have to report this. Just one drink, I thought. It turned into shot after shot, and before I knew it, I was drunk, hard in my boxers, having kicked off the shoes and thrown that tight-ass shirt on the ground as soon.
Then I was beating off, and cumming, and the build-up to that orgasm, man, it flooded my brain with some real redneck juice. I wasn’t thinking of the type of guys I usually did. I was thinking about redneck studs, studs like myself, feeling the drool run down my chin as I beat off. As I came, shooting way up on my pecs, rubbing it in with my hand, I was whispering to myself, almost like a confession that I had yet to voice to anyone, “You hot fucking redneck. Holy fuck, you love this, don’t you. You’re a redneck now. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.”
The desire to live for working out and fucking was already growing in me.
Thoughts were just racing through my head then. I knew I didn’t want to be some lame-ass yuppie or some weak-ass queer, man. I felt this powerful attraction to the redneck scene, the working class scene, the country scene, the military scene, the jock scene, you name it, any scene were men were men instead of the glitter fairy I had been before. I couldn’t quite pin it all down at that point yet, but my thoughts were sure racing.
Can you picture me, getting drunk in my apartment, turned on at my own body and swirling thoughts? And then I started to really know, man. I started to know. There was no going back now. The guy I used to be was a loser. I didn’t want to be him anymore. I was pissed off that I ever even was him.
I walked barefoot into the bedroom, checking out his stuff in the drawers and on the walls. Almost none of it would even fit me anymore. His feminine attire and the way his shithole apartment was decorated disgusted me. It made me want to punch the wall, even, so I did that and it felt good. I saw the paint crack and the drywall cave in. This new body had power.
I screamed then, a roar of pure rage and exhilaration. I punched the wall again, and it felt so fucking good that soon I was ripping all his shit off the walls and throwing it in a corner, ripping that flouncy shit off the mattress and I didn’t stop, screaming the whole while, until the bedroom at least look bare bones enough to resemble something a man would want to sleep in. I’d be damned if I ever let that loser back into this mind.
There were a few flashes, sure, and man was he a crybaby as he went out, as well as one hell of an angry little prick. Lots of hatred in his heart. I’d just laugh and say, “Fuck you!” sometimes out loud as I felt that twink brain collapse forever.
And now, as far as I’m concerned, he’s gone man. No longer a part of me, thank God.
I was nervous at first, when I started trying to hang out with guys I thought I’d have a lot more in common with that my old friends. Would they accept me? I was pretty desperate for acceptance at that point. I starting hanging out at a diner that I knew a lot of them liked to frequent, classic diner that pre-dated even the 1950s, a real antique. But these sexy ass guys would show up there, and soon we got to talking over waffles and hash browns.
Soon I was telling them I was darted, and they were saying that was hot as fuck, wanting to hear the story. Soon I was telling it to them, my legs in the air, sweat dripping down my bearded chin, as I was getting fucked.
Months after that, I was almost fully integrated into the lifestyle, man, and soon I was the one doing more of the fucking, especially after I got these sweet-ass tattoos all over my right arm. Getting fully into it, the desire to be that all I could be as man, hell, it ran in my veins now. I was going to let those commies know that I was better than them in every single way imaginable, and I wanted to show it off. I still get hard just at the thought of that, demonstrating my own superiority in the most tangible – well, to them, intangible, because I don’t want them even fucking touching me – methods available to me.
Yeah boys, it meant war for me, just like it had when I was a stupid twink, only this time I was playing for the other side, and it was chess instead of checkers.
Of course, there’s a lot more to life than just that for me, namely having hot-ass sex with all sorts of country studs and military men, hell, being part of that whole network of strong and powerful men who worship and respect other guys who’ve worked for it. I feel like I’m serving my country and being a paragon of virtue for it even when my legs are slung over some guy’s bull neck and thick, rounded deltoids as he plows the fuck out of me with his long-ass rod.
I had never gotten fucked this good when I was a twink.
I do real work with myself now, a man’s work. I dress like a man, I eat like a man, and I live my life like a man. I’m fucking proud of it, too. I love who I am now, and relocated to the other side of town, too, where the action’s hotter and I have way more in common with most folks.
I am sure glad I’m a buff stud with a thick-ass chest these days, and I don’t ever go clean-shaven. Been really into guy’s pits lately, and getting them to flex for me so I can lick those. Yeah, shit, I’ve gotta stop, because here I’ve got a raging boner just telling you all about that right now. I swear I’m way more horny than I used to be. At least seventy-five percent of the time now, I’d bet, I’m a top these days.
I don’t really like bottom boys, either. Their mere existence tends to piss me off, to be honest, so when I do fuck them I tend to be an aggressive power top. A lot of the time I don’t even think of it that way, though. I just think of them as so weak that the same rules don’t even apply to them. Different rules, in a way, because they’re a different kind of guy than me. Much more like women, unable to control themselves, you know how they are. I used to be one of them, and I’m so glad I’m not anymore, that’s for fucking sure.
A lot of the time I prefer to just fool around with guys such as myself. I love topping another top, having to wrestle somebody for hours in a strength and dominance competition. Gets the blood flowing. I like somebody who puts up a fight. C’mon, son, do you have any idea how fucking fun that is for me now? To meet up and hook up with another guy who’s just as manly as I am? That’s the stuff I live for now. I’m ready to just fuck my life away with hot ass guys at this point.
So, yeah, I’m a top who loves to wrestle with other tops and see who can dominate. I must be pretty good at it if I swear I’m scoring a seventy-five percent these days, but that’s just because occasionally I throw in some twink losers. Yeah bud, even some of these leftists get thrown a bone by me every now and again. They need us, and I like them to know they need us. They wouldn’t know what to do without us.
One of these days, I might even check with one of my army friends and see if I can come along on a mission so that I can dart one of them myself. I think I’d laugh my ass off when my dart goes in his neck or his shoulder, wherever it his him. Just to see the look on his face, shit boy. That could turn a guy on just by imagining it, so one of these days I’ll have to make it legit.
Fuck if I care about the loser I once used to be or what I’m supposed to be doing with my life. My life is better now and that’s all that matters to me.
Hot-ass guys, man. That’s what I live for.
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cognitiveleague · 1 month ago
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Something I really enjoy about the Dressrosa arc is the narrative comparison and contrast presented between Law and Doflamingo.
Oda, especially post-timeskip, devotes a lot of storytelling to looking closely at protagonists and villains alike, asking the audience to join him in exploring questions of “what made them like this?” and “does it matter what drove them, at the end of the day?”
And Dressrosa is one of the places where those questions hit the hardest for me, because one after the other, he shows us two children — both having experienced a fall from (different degrees of) privilege and into incredibly traumatic situations at a young age, both victimized for things they had no means of controlling as children. Law and Doflamingo are both shown as being radicalized by that trauma and loss of control, rejecting the gentler values their parents tried to instill in them because they reached a point of not being able to see a point in compassion, or hope for any justice but revenge.
In the present, Doflamingo hasn’t really known for a very long time who Law truly is, but in a sense, he wasn’t wrong when he saw himself in the way a younger Law reacted to the loss of his former life by wanting to lash out at the world. In that moment, there was something in Law that DID reflect his own wounded inner child’s rage, and in a strange way, he clung to the connection he felt with that worst possible version of Law long after Law had discarded it and moved on.
The question implied there is “what made them different in the end? What redeemed Law, and what (if anything) pushed Doflamingo past the point of redemption?”
While the second question (as is often the case) is up to a lot of interpretation, the answer (as with Big Mom in the following arc) seems to me to lean toward “while his choices were his own and he ultimately has responsibility for them, it’s also true that when he was young and vulnerable and poised to go down a path of destruction for himself and everyone around him, the adults in his life used his brokenness to their own selfish advantage, encouraging him along that path instead of teaching him better; whether or not it absolves him of ANYTHING at this point (and it certainly doesn’t absolve him of EVERYTHING), there is a tragedy in the fact that we will never see who he might have been if he wasn’t encouraged and enabled to embrace his worst impulses.”
That tragedy is a core part of Corazón’s story — Corazón’s big brother who never grew past fear and rage and clinging to the selfish comfort of the memory of how easy their past life of privilege had been, who thought he loved him on some level, and who on another level probably knew he never developed the capacity to truly love anyone but himself. I think it’s probably why Corazón didn’t pull the trigger fast enough, when it came down to it — even after seeing what a monster his brother had become, even after dedicating his whole adult life to stopping him from hurting even more people, part of him still remembered the wounded, frightened child in his big brother, and the times he’d tried in his selfish way to protect him. Something in him still had sympathy for that child, and wanted, if not to believe, then at least to hope (even against all evidence) that enough of him was still in there that HE wouldn’t pull the trigger without hesitation, either.
We know how that story ended. It was far too late for his kindness to save Doffy by then, if it had ever been possible — there might have been something left in him that could feel something akin to regret over killing Corazón after the fact, or at least greedily resent the loss of him, but if there was, it wasn’t able to stop him.
But in the end, Corazón’s kindness — his compassion, his determination to believe that even a deeply wounded, deeply flawed world was worth placing his hope in and fighting for, his unrelenting love — was worth it, because it saved Law. It was enough to save the bitter, broken child Doffy saw so much of himself in.
Corazón took Law away from the adults who would have enabled him the way Doffy was enabled at his age, and put in the hard work of showing him, day after day, that while his pain was worth acknowledging and sympathizing with, he was worth more than just revenge — he was worth love, and healing, and the fight for a world better than the one that had hurt him so badly. He taught him not a naïve hope like the one the adults in Flevance had tried to give him, but a stubborn, bitter hope, one that laughed and spat a bloody declaration of victory right in the face of the enemy even when their backs were to the wall, hope with its teeth bared in defiance of a world that Law already knew to be unjust and pitiless.
That is what made Law’s story end differently than Doflamingo’s, and how we ended up with the version of Law that we and the Strawhats get to know - a man determined to trudge on, in spite of his own pain and disillusionment, as the bearer of lights that would otherwise be lost, those left in his hands by people he saw (still sees) as having been kinder, gentler, more deserving than he was of survival. A man who covered his body with reminders of the love that dragged him kicking and screaming into the light when he’d given his own heart up for lost, who named his crew in honor of that love, who devoted the rest of his life to making sure that love and that sacrifice mattered. A man all too familiar with his own worst impulses, who struggles to see or to trust in his own kindness, but who has chosen to be a defender like Corazón was to him, to be a healer like his birth parents were to those around them, to be not a tyrant like his former mentor, but a leader who loves and respects the people who follow him, and who is genuinely cared for by them in return.
And, despite his own misgivings, despite not being someone who reads to strangers as warm or caring, he is kind. He has chosen, through the love that was shown to him, to be a genuinely good man — faithful and just to his friends and allies and those he’s seen wronged in front of him, unwilling to demand sacrifices of others that he wouldn’t give of himself, determined to fight back against the ugliness and apathy and cruelty of the world, to wrest every bit of hard-fought justice he can from life not only for himself, but for others who have been crushed down by life.
It’s thematically fitting that he specializes in surgery, even completely aside from how suited his power is for it. As a character, his narrative is fundamentally about having chosen to become someone who can offer the world a surgeon’s sort of kindness —not warmth or softness, usually, but the mercy of a sharp, careful blade, a steady hand, and a clear understanding that sometimes, you have to roll up your sleeves and do the ugly, messy work of cutting away what’s too damaged to save before the healing can begin.
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calypsocolada · 6 months ago
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how they kissed you for the first time... ft. soshiro, gen, & kafka
authors note: kaiju no. 8 is addictive. i bought the first manga then proceeded to buy the next nine. i'm obsessed with these three <3
cw: light violence
wc: 2.8k
click here for my masterlist
“Burning the midnight oil?” A familiar voice asked. You practically jumped out of your skin as you spun around in your wooden chair. Vice Captain Hoshina was comfortably leaning against the door to the library, eyes amusedly taking you in. 
“Vice Captain!” You gasped, holding a hand over your heart as you quickly gathered up your things. “I-- I apologize, sir.” Hoshina chuckled playfully, pushing off the door as he approached your table.
“No need to apologize, cadet. But you do know sleeping is a part of the job too.”
“I know. I’m just
 not tired. Thought I would study a bit.” You responded as Hoshina snickered slightly. He ruffled your hair.
“This late? You’re a real overachiever aren’t you?” He teases as you fix your hair, blushing slightly.
“I just like to be prepared, that's all.” You huffed slightly as Hoshina leaned against the desk beside you, he looked down at you.
“You say you’re not tired but look moments away from falling asleep.” He points out.
“Well
 maybe it is getting a little late.” 
Hoshina chuckled again, that same smug look on his face. He nodded, a small hint of concern in his expression. “Yeah, it is. And you should be in bed like everyone else. Besides-”
He stood up straight and pushed himself off the desk, crossing his arms and towering over you for a moment. He returned to his playful smirk and spoke. “-We have drills tomorrow and I can’t have you falling asleep during it, can I?”
No, sir.” You responded, turning and hiding the blush on your face. He chuckled softly and gave you a smug smirk, he was an observant person so of course he saw your blush before you could hide it. 
“Don’t act so embarrassed, I’m just looking out for you.” He chuckled again and that damn smirk grew slightly.
“I’m going, sir.” You answered quickly, loading yourself with books. Hoshina watched you amused until you dropped one. He caught it with ease, cocking his head.
“Do you really need all of these?” He asked as you pouted slightly. 
“I only have the hold on these books for two more days.” You said as he sighed softly, reaching and grabbing over half of what you were holding. 
“Lead the way.” He said as you nodded your head, walking out of the library and down the dark halls of the agency. Your room was a short walk and when you arrived you quickly unlocked the door and Hoshina followed you in, placing your books on your desk.
“Thank you, sir.”
“It’s just us, you can call me Soshiro.” Hoshina said over his shoulder. You froze, staring at his back as he straightened, his eyes taking in your private quarters. You jumped when your door fell shut behind you and when you turned back Hoshina was looking at you. A smug and satisfied look on his devilishly handsome features. “Go on, I give you permission.” Your mouth goes dry, your lips parting but no sound comes out. He laughs then. He knew the effect he had on you, knew exactly the kind of attack he just dolled out on your nervous system. Hoshina, up to this point, had been nothing but mostly professional around you. The only thing unprofessional before was his constant joking but other than that he had been an angel. Kind of. But you on the other hand fell fast and hard. It was embarrassing and something you would try very hard to take to your grave. “Did I make you nervous?”
“What-- n-no. It’s just-- I’m tired, that's all.” You covered, albeit sloppily. Hoshina raised his head slightly, a brow quirking up.
“Well
 I wouldn’t want to keep you from sleeping.” He says, there was a glimmer of something in his eyes as he walked towards you, you moved out of the way of the door and gave him a terse smile. He looked down at you. “You’re actually going to sleep, right? You won’t read those books once I leave?” He jests as you nod your head. 
“I’m going to sleep.” You affirm shakily. He was standing so close. You could move your hand a few inches and you’d be touching him. You could take one step and meet his lips with ease. You looked away quickly at that thought. Ashamed of where your mind could take you. 
“Good night.” He says softly, hand reaching for the door. You’re not entirely sure what came over you but he was so close. Just right there. And walked you back to your room, carrying your things, talked to you like that and you were so weak already for him. You kissed him. It was probably the quickest kiss known to man. You had just gently pressed your lips against his in a quick peck and pulled back faster than you’d ever pulled back. Your face was beat red.
“M-my apologies, sir.” You said, turning and moving away but he caught your wrist. 
“You call that a kiss, Cadet?” He asked and when your wide eyes met his he pulled you back to him and lowered his lips to yours.
-
Your breath caught in your throat as you stopped mid walk into the doorway of your boss’s office. To call it a disaster would be an understatement. For the past week you’d been on a much needed vacation. 
“Y/n?” A voice exclaimed, surprised to your right. You almost dropped your tray of tea. 
“Mr. Narumi, you startled me!” You gasped, turning.
“You’re back a day early?”
“Mr. Hasegawa asked me to.” You said, walking carefully over the discarded boxes of yamazon orders to place the tea on his desk. Gen’s jaw tightened.
“He did, did he?” He asks as you nod your head.
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to clean up your office a bit-”
“No. No, I will take care of it. You should be home, enjoying your last day of vacation.”
“It’s alright, sir,” You reach and grab a trash bag but Gen reaches out, hand gracing yours to grab it away from you. 
“I wanted,” He sighs. “I wanted to clean this place before you got back.” He mumbled, cheeks red in embarrassment. 
“I really don’t mind, Mr. Narumi, it’s my job to help you out.” You say and Gen shakes his head. 
“This is my mess, you can go home early.”
“I just got here, sir.”
“And I’m giving you the rest of the day off, as well as tomorrow. Both paid of course.” He says, crossing his arms. You stare at him for a moment, parting your lips but Gen just shakes his head. “Go on, enjoy it.” He says, turning to start cleaning up his own mess. 
“Alright, thank you sir.” You say, leaving the tray behind as you make your way towards the door, glancing back to see Gen dutifully shoving things into a trash bag. 
An hour later you knock on his door and when he opens the door you hold up take out from his favorite restaurant.
“Before you try and send me home I thought we could have lunch together.” You say and his eyes sharpen before he inevitably steps to the side and lets you in. His office is much cleaner and this time you walk with ease to his desk, he follows behind and grabs two drinks out of a fridge as you pull out the food. “It looks nice in here.”
“Can you pretend you didn’t see the mess this morning?” He asks as you smile.
“What mess?” You ask and watch his face relax as he grabs and drags his chair to sit beside you. 
“I
 wanted you to come back unstressed from your vacation but Eiji just had to ruin that.” He says, taking a drink before popping open the container of his food.
“I’m not stressed.” You say, popping open your own container as you feel Gen’s eyes on you.
“Would you like the rest of the week off too? Paid of course.”
“No!” You laugh, shaking your head. “Seriously, sir, I feel fine. It was a good vacation, I feel rested and relaxed. Ready to work.” You say, taking a bite of your food. 
“Are you sure?” He asks as you finally meet his eyes, he looks so worried for you. You furrowed your brow.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, he looks back at his food. 
“You deserve better than to be my assistant.” He says and you pout slightly, tilting your head.
“What? I like being your assistant, sir.” You say as Gen sort of sighs, it was clear something heavy was weighing on him. You should’ve known he was acting strange from the first moment you talked with him.
“I don’t want you to be.” He finally says. You stare at him, shocked and slightly hurt. 
“Oh.” You say, the bite of food you were about to eat paused. “I
 I apologize. Did I do something to upset you?” Gen’s eyes fly up to yours.
“What! N-no of course not, Y/n.” 
“I can speak with Mr. Hasegawa and have him transfer me to-”
“That’s not
 I didn’t mean it like that.” Gen says, rubbing his forehead in a stressed sort of way.
“What way did you mean it, sir?” You ask. Gen looks down at his food, he then inhales deeply and turns towards you. You hadn’t noticed how close you two were sitting until right now. He was so close, his eyes soft on yours until they dipped low to your lips then snapped back up. Your stomach flipped at that little action. 
“I want
 more.” He says and your lips part in surprise. 
“More?”
“More.” He affirms. “May I
 kiss you?”
“Kiss?” You echo, eyes sort of wide. He reaches over and tucks your hair out of your face. 
“Yes. May I?” You can’t wipe the shocked expression off your face. Your lips barely form the word yes and he’s leaning in, hand sliding across your cheek to pull you to meet his lips impatiently. He wanted it and needed it.
-
You breathed heavily, staggering to the side, hand placed on debris to keep yourself standing. You were sure you were dead. The jaws of a kaiju opened up to swallow you whole but suddenly you were on the ground, dizzy and unaware of how you got there. But then you saw it. The infamous Kaiju no. 8. You watched as it killed the kaiju that had you in its clutches moments ago. You staggered back when the kaiju turned to face you, fear jolting through you as you fumbled over debris to get away. 
“Y/n! Be careful, you're injured!” The kaiju said as it ran over to you. You screamed, you didn’t know those things could talk! You scrambled to your feet, rushing and dizzily falling as you tried to get to the gun you’d dropped in your fight with the last kaiju. Strong hands gently grabbed you and when you turned you were face to face with kaiju no. 8. You screamed and threw a punch, connecting with its jaw but the creature just stared at you, seemingly hurt until its eyes connected with something behind you. “Oh
 shit.” The creature grunted as you stared at it, shell shocked. It’s voice
 somehow familiar. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, the kaiju still had a tight hold on you as you glanced back. The creature was looking at its reflection? There was only so much strangeness you could take as your body practically shut down, the adrenaline that was fueling you moments ago drained out as your legs gave out and you fell backwards into the Kaiju’s arms. “Y/n! S-shit
 we have to get you to the infirmary!” The kaiju expressed and in that moment, seconds before you lost consciousness one name left your lips.
“Kafka?” You breathed out completely dumbfounded.
When you woke up it was light, almost a blinding white. You blinked a few times, groggily yawning as you carefully sat up, your entire body ached as you gently stretched out your muscles.
“You’re awake!” A voice to your right exclaimed in a breathy whisper. You turned and there was Kafka, he dropped his coffee and dive bombed towards you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight bear hug. You grunted in surprise as he held you tightly, as if he was keeping you grounded from floating away and never being seen again. Your mind was still a bit foggy on things as you gently pushed Kafka back.
“How long was I out?”
“Days
 at least two or three.” He answers, his face clearly worried. It was also clear he hadn’t slept, dark circles had formed beneath his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”
“Fine
 a bit sore.” You answered as he sat on the side of your hospital bed and sighed out in relief. 
“I was worried.” He said, forcing a small smile on his face. He was still worried as you winced slightly, pushing down your blanket and inspecting the bandage across your midsection. His eyes followed your movements and when you looked up at him he had this intensely worried look on his face. 
“I’m fine, Kafka.” You implored as his eyes snapped up to yours. He nodded his head and swallowed. 
“Do you
 remember anything? Anything at all?” He asks. You blink a few times, pursing your lips.
“I remember you
 being there? Did you save me?” You ask, trying hard to recall what exactly had happened. You retraced your steps as Kafka fumbled through his words.
“I--- yes-- I was
 there
 technically.” You remembered a kaiju swiping at you, you lost your gun in the scuffle. You recalled it grabbing you up and tossing you towards its open mouth but you never landed in there but rather on your feet on the concrete. You blinked a few times as things started to piece together. 
“I saw
 kaiju no. 8.” You said and watched Kafka’s face go pale white. “It
” you trailed off when you remembered its voice, remembering it grab you as you passed out. Remember saying a name. “You
” Your eyes snapped to Kafka’s. He looked stricken, scared and caught all at once. “Kafka
 you
 you’re-”
“Yes.” Kafka breathes out quickly. Like he’d been dying to tell you. “Yes
 that was me.. I’m-”
“A kaiju.” You finished his sentence unblinking. You swallowed as Kafka’s lip trembled and he gave you a curt nod of the head. He looked embarrassed and guilty. 
“I’m a monster
 I wanted-- I wanted to wait until you woke up to- to turn myself in because I wanted
 no I needed to know you were going to be okay. I needed to tell you that I-”
“Kafka,” You interrupted, shocked by this revelation. He looked at you with a pained expression. 
“I promise I’ll turn myself in I just need to tell you that-”
“No!” You jerked up, wincing in pain.
“C-careful!” Kafka admonished, you reached for him, barely grabbing his shirt.
“Don’t turn yourself in. I-- I don’t want you to.” You stuttered painfully. Kafka’s lips parted wordlessly. 
“What? I was sure you would want me to
”
“That’s the last thing I want.” You said, trying to wrap your head around this all. You tighten the hold on his shirt and look at him. “They would
 kill you and turn you into a weapon, Kafka.” You say as Kafka looks down, nodding his head.
“I know that.”
“And you think I would want that for you?” You hissed as his eyes snap back up to yours, a shocked expression on his face.
“You
 hate kaiju.”
“I don’t hate you. No matter what you are.” You said, yanking his shirt towards you as you wrapped him in a tight hug. “Don’t you dare turn yourself in.” You warned, he was stiff in your arms for only a few seconds before he completely melted, the fear and anxiety of you possibly hating him kept him up for days. He wrapped you in a hug and you felt him breathe out and relax, hands sliding across your back, gently gripping your shirt as he held onto you. You could tell then that he’d really expected a different outcome. He’d expected you to tell him to turn himself in. When you pulled back to say something his mouth pressed against yours, stopping your words and your thoughts. His arms were still around you as he kissed you tentatively.
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thewritetofreespeech · 4 months ago
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Could I request Astarion's s/o giving him a massage that has him making suggestive noises?
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-------------------------------đŸ©ž-------------------------------
Gale hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep reading until he opened his eyes. It had been a long day of running around the city. Looking for clues on the Bhaal cult. Gathering more information on the Brain and allies to stop it. Saving orphans & kittens out of trees.
He wasn’t sure what woke him, until he heard quite, hushed voices at his back.
“You have to relax, Astarion.”
“I’m trying.” The vampire replied. His voice sounded different. No longer the charming lark, but a little strained and husky. “You’re going too deep, too fast.”
“You said you wanted me to take care of you.” Tav seemed to remind him. Then there was a gurgled groan from Astarion. “Don’t I always take care of you?”
Gale’s face was as red as an apple at this point. Were they really doing that just a few feet from his bed?? Where was everyone else?? Down in the tavern he hoped. Who has sex just mere foot steps away from another person??
“Your fingers are magic.” Astarion groaned.
“Well, they carry literal magic.” Tav chuckled. Mystra’s eye
.
“Oh! Oh Gods right there!”
“Don’t tense up on me.” Tav hissed at Astarion. The bed creaking under them.
“I’m trying, it’s just that
mpmh!”
“Alright that’s quite enough! If you two can’t keep it—” Gale’s indignation had reached it’s peak, and he whirled around to confront the lovers about what they were doing ‘in front of him’, only to find Tav fully clothed and sitting across Astarion’s waist. Clearly not doing what he thought they were doing, and his face grew hot again.
“Oh. Gale. I’m sorry. Did we wake you?”
“Sorry old chum. Tav darling was just working out this kink in my back from sleeping on all those rocks. One never realizes how much tension that binds up until they’re in a proper bed again.”
Gale coughed and swung his legs over the side of his own bed. “Yes
well
I appreciate the apology. I think I’m going to head downstairs to the tavern for a night cap.” Then the wizard all but raced to the door to make it downstairs.
“Poor Gale
”
“Poor Gale indeed.” Astarion agreed. “Imagine what he would have done if he could see what your Mage Hands were doing under this blanket.” Tav pursed their lips and pinched at Astarion’s ear lobe. The spell in question fading, perhaps out of spite.
The vampire just grinned over his shoulder. Somehow grabbing Tav and flipping them onto the bed. The blanket over his waist now asunder as he was completely nude with non-nude counterpart. “Alone at last, my love.” He cooed before kissing them.
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johnbrand · 1 month ago
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Future Plans
“Don’t mind if I just pop these off real quick.”
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Luke readjusted awkwardly on his yoga mat, carefully watching as Mr. Bergstrom plopped each of his massive feet out of their equally massive prisons.
“Oof!” Mr. Bergstrom exclaimed as he leaned forward to massage his feet. “These things have quite the kick to them.”
“Proof of a good workout?” The 18-year-old replied, unsure of how to continue forward with the conversation. He had not spoken to Mr. Bergstrom in almost six months, so it had come as a surprise when the middle-aged man had pulled him aside at the gym to discuss Luke’s "future plans".
Mr. Bergstrom chuckled, “I guess so.” Both sets of eyes followed Mr. Bergstrom’s hands as they peeled the grimy socks away, exposing two long, firm soles. The socks were then tossed aside between the pair. After a moment Luke was able to pick up on their slightly cheesy funk.
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“Mr. Bergstrom, if you don’t mind me asking,” Luke knew he was treading on rocky ground. “Why did you want to speak with me?”
“As I said, I wanted to hear what your plans were moving forward.” Mr. Bergstrom put his calloused paws to work, rubbing away and massaging his feet. “My son already told me you’re going to a different university, I’m just curious to hear your reasoning.”
Luke shifted uncomfortably. He and Mr. Bergstrom’s son had grown up together, been best friends from elementary through most of high school. Mr. Bergstrom had practically been a second father to Luke, to the point that Luke’s own parents joked that they should have been paying for child support. That was until Luke had come out. Mr. Bergstrom promptly banned his son from ever speaking with “that homo” again.
“Well, I was offered a really great scholarship from the school. My grades were excellent this year, and my test scores were pretty much the same.” Luke was not trying to be boastful. “They are hoping to fast-track me through the engineering program, my counselor said I’ve got some real talent.”
The bustling noises of the busy gym were present, but dampened by the closed doors of their private studio. Mr. Bergstrom continued his cooldown, stretching his legs. “You know they’re just buttering you up, right?”
Luke’s face grew warm. Mr. Bergstrom continued, “You don’t really think your talents will be utilized by furthering your education, do you?”
Embarrassed, Luke found himself looking down. He would be leaving for college in a week, he already had made his mind up. He could not understand why Mr. Bergstrom was trying to convince him otherwise.
“I know you miss my son, Luke. And I know you miss me.” Mr. Bergstrom started, a friendly smirk smearing itself onto his face. Luke was familiar with that smile, its fatherly warmth attempting to lure him in. But he resisted, its friendliness almost artificial. “You should be less concerned about education and more focused on rebuilding the bridges you’ve burned.”
“What do you mean?” Luke queried without lifting his head.
“You can get a degree at any point of time in life,” Mr. Bergstrom argued. “But if a relationship has broken apart, you only have so much time to fix it.” Mr. Bergstrom’s fingers interlocked between his toes, smoothly caressing each of the pockets in between. “Your time at university will be, what, four years? But the bonds you make with others are for a lifetime. It would be selfish to put your own wishes before others, especially those you’ve hurt. And if this university really wants you, then they will be willing to wait."
Mr. Bergstrom sighed, "As an adult, it’s my responsibility to tell you this kind of stuff.”
Luke’s face was still flushed, but no longer out of embarrassment. The odor of Mr. Bergstrom’s feet had by now completely filled the room, its pungent, sour funk somehow warm.
“So, what do you suggest I do?” Luke’s eyes began to water, although it was unclear if it was out of despair or a reaction to the feet in front of him. Luke only realized now that this entire time he had been staring at the older man’s soles dancing in front of him.
“Put your actual talents to good use, kiddo,” Mr. Bergstrom’s face lit up with that fatherly pride once more, its affectionate smile inviting. The affirmation felt good to Luke. “You should cancel your college plans for the time being so that you can focus on your relationships. A gap year or two, or maybe three, or as long as it takes to make up for lost time.”
“Does that mean I’ll get to be best friends with your son again?” Luke asked.
“Well, he already left for school a few days ago, so he won’t be back until the winter holidays.” Luke was a bummed to hear this, beginning to reconsider Mr. Bergstrom’s offer. But before Luke could escape, Mr. Bergstrom wiggled his thick toes, drawing him back in.
“But in the meantime,” Mr. Bergstrom’s tone held its protective tone, as if it was only offering what was best for Luke. “You can work on rebuilding our relationship. You can live with me so your parents think you’re still at school, except I will be your professor. Won’t that be fun?”
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Luke’s body began to tingle. Subconsciously, he could sense danger. But there was something so alluring about Mr. Bergstrom’s feet. His thick, juicy feet and their nauseating, mesmerizing, heterosexual scent.
“Whaddya say, kiddo? Do you trust me?” Mr. Bergstrom asked. 
Luke’s reply came out robotically, “...Yes.”
Mr. Bergstrom smirk reappeared, although this time the mask was off. It was now cocky, assured, but yet still familiar, as if this was not the first time. “Good boy, then lets give you your first assignment.”
The sweetness in Mr. Bergstrom’s voice had completely disappeared. “How about you start servicing these big manly feet." Mr. Bergstrom then threw one of his dirty socks right into Luke’s face, its sweat a metaphorical stamp on his future. "And while you’re at it, you can suck on this like the pathetic little faggot you are."
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henneseyhoe · 8 months ago
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Daddy’s Money.
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Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader.
WARNINGS:lil bit of nasty smut, brief one sided relationship, lewis being pussy whipped, reader is heavily implied to be a gold digger(she is but shhhh! let her rock frl), daddy kink, money making reader hornayyy(me asf), not edited(idc rn i’m sleepy), there MIGHT be plot holes(again, i’m sleepy) and das it i think.
ps. also i’m ngl i wrote this halfway lazily, i just wanted to get back into writing sooo yeah.
✼✼✼✼
The arrangement was really an accident (at first). You were hired to fit and dress the man after practically begging for the job, needing the money to jump start your fashion career since your father had cut you off the month prior. It’d take nearly five years to do so, but with someone as easy going as lewis, time would fly fast.
Eventually he grew fond of you, and you of him..him a bit (a lot) more than you actually. Months after getting hired he began bringing you around for things that wasn’t about his style, things that someone would do for a budding romance. You didn’t mind either, it was working in your favor getting the extra hours to do nothing. You didn’t mean to snag a sugar daddy, a famous one at that, just like you didn’t mean to fuck him before the met gala, damn near making him late. It just
happened; Which is what you’d say to judgy bitches.
You also didn’t mean to point out that midnight black bag (and a few other things) you had been wanting when shopping for him the week after the met. Those things mysteriously showed up on your door step two days later to your surprise. You were beginning to think he was a little generous
so you tested something out.
“Ugh! Wouldn’t this look so good on me?”
You pout as you held the designer dress up to your body. It was originally intended to go to another woman they paired him with for an event, but seeing it up against you instead was all he had to see before he told his assistant to inform the woman she’d be wearing something else. In awe, you proceeded to wear that dress to the event that night, easily gaining eyes from guests and earning yourself a name as Lewis’s “sexy ass stylist” online when the pictures taken of you went viral.
Later on that night the dress was being ripped apart from the back and thrown to the floor by you know exactly who, him doing everything in his power to get to what was underneath.
You couldn’t tell if your pussy was good or if he was just that whipped for you after that night. Either way, you were having fun.
Before you could snap your fingers, whatever you were THINKING of wanting was at your fingertips. He had more money than he could spend, and you had no problem helping him find what to do with it! It was only fair, ya know, for his sake.
The first time you realized he was really wrapped around your little iced out finger was the last time you had wanted for anything for long.
“I could have anything I want? seriously??”
You looked to him in shock, the man shrugging as he debated on a pair of versace shoes. “Have at it, love” He responded simply with a quick endearing smile to you before waving over an assistant to help you. You felt like a kid in a candy store.
^Also the last time you referred to him as anything other than daddy when not in public, (or at least not noticeably to others in public).
He was liquid when you called him that. soft putty in your hands, ready for you to shape him into anything you desired.
“Come on, daddy. Don’t you wanna see your name in diamonds on me? Don’t you wanna mark me? claim me?”
You taunted him in a seductive tone as you rolled your hips onto him. You flipped your hair to one side of your shoulder so you could look back at the work you were putting in, Lewis staring back at you with hearts in his eyes and his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. Both of y’all’s jeans were halfway down with your pretty brown ass perched up for him to see the tip of his long dick teasingly slide between your lips and into your honey coated walls repeatedly. He was right there on the edge, you could feel it and you hadn’t even sat all the way down on him yet.
Really it was either say yes to the chain or be left to make himself cum, he understood that completely. As he nods eagerly in agreement, you plopped your plump self down into his lap and he came as fast as police in white neighborhoods.
By the seventh month of being together your closet was every woman with a fashion sense dream. Designer galore (and not the ugly shit neither). He got you designs that wasn’t on racks yet but straight off a runway, things that fit perfectly to YOUR body. (Seeing that he was getting to know it so well..He could probably draw a map of you with just his damn tongue.)
You began getting way more noticed by his fans and friends, not only for suddenly having a thing for wearing expensive clothes and jewels, but for also being close with Lewis. Dating rumors had started to run amuck. The first plan was to deny, deny, deny but it was hard to do that when you were wearing his name on your neck, hiding the chain under your shirts or wearing it backwards so no one would see the name plate.
But the chain wasn’t what caused the dam to break. It was when you posted bags and gifts with flowers, a card attached that had a heartfelt and flirty handwritten poem on it, forgetting to even scribble out his name. Fans and close friends were on the fence, some of his associates madder than an ant colony in the rain and some fans confused on where the hell you even came from and where you got off on gold digging. The clothes and jewelry were finally starting to make sense and you gave the saying “Look like money” a new meaning.
Lewis was quick to come to your defense in interviews, you had never seen anyone get so nice nasty or petty in your honor. He was witty and quick with comebacks, his polite tone masking rude comments at any interviewer that dared to have an opinion about you that he didn’t like. He made sure as everything went on online and your name trended for the second time that week that you didn’t lack reassurance ever.
“Look in the mirror and let daddy know who’s it is”
He pulls you by your braids up to the direction of the reflecting headboard, your back pressed against his chest as his hips met your ass with a hard smack. After hours of pleasurable “reassurance” there wasn’t a spot inside you that his dick didn’t hit, a place on you that his tongue didn’t lick. The chain you had asked for a bit ago clinked freely against your chest and a fucked out evil smile grew on your face as you look him in the eyes through the mirror. “It’s yours, daddy. you know it’s all yours” You would reply before your walls gushed around his dick.
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Fans who prayed on your downfall weren’t so happy when they got the news that you two married two years later in Greece. The wedding was private, but it was no secret that a fortune was spent and that didn’t make the gold digging comments better. (Even though your father paid)
Those comments followed you into your fashion brand era and though you chose to be mysterious about private life and yourself in general, (for obvious reasons) you felt it was only right to defend your honor at least once.
Like the great actress you were, you did what white women around him had been doing to you since the beginning and threw on the waterworks, crying in front of any watchful eye when the rumors were brought up with your amazing husband by your side comforting you immediately. How dare they say such things about THEE Lewis Hamilton’s wife?? THEE Y/N Hamilton???
Your newly grown fan base called it blasphemy. There wasn’t an online blog on beyoncé’s internet that went untouched when having something to say about you. Everything they said was untrue! You had your own money, your own brand, (funded by your husband) and your own name.
“They’re so mean to me”
You pout as Lewis carefully takes off your heels and kisses the top of your feet before standing and caressing your cheek. “You know how the media is, and I know nothing they say about you is true. I’ll have my team take care of it, okay?” He reassured and you smile, mentally noting to suck his dick before bed. As if you were rewarding a dog for jumping through a hoop, being soft and on your side at all times was Lewis’s hoop, and he had better jump through every. single. time.
To be fair, there may have been some superficial motives behind the building of this relationship (on your side at least) but he genuinely did grow on you, and that was before you knew he was a trick, that part just made it deeper.
You were in shock when he asked you to marry him originally, so much so that you refused the first time because it scared you. You avoided him for an entire week and refused to go to work until you realized you had grown so accustomed to being around him that you could barely function. Apart from the fact that you were opening doors by yourself and eating dinner alone, you hadn’t noticed how much you liked talking to him, being with him and simply in his presence.
Materials aside, you loved him, you were in love with him. Infatuated just as much as he was with you by now and you came too long of a way to be scared off.
In reality you telling him no wasn’t gonna stop him from perusing. He knew you were gonna be his wife for a long time now and nothing was gonna get in the way of him finding you (and he kinda duped you with the whole falling for him thing anyway because he knew what half of your motives were and played his role well), you just found him first and made him pop that question again, which that time you happily said yes to.
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